‘I’m the person who would like to know why you were rubbing yourself against my brother down by the water.’
‘Your brother?’
‘Aye, did Peyton not mention me?’
‘No.’
The lass shrugged. ‘Too busy kissing your face off, I suppose. I am his sister, Lowri. As I hear it, you have been sharing his bed, and Lorna Gilpin took offence and ended up brawling in the muck with you.’
‘Whatever you may have heard, I…’
‘It is of no matter.’ Lowri came closer and looked Cecily over from head to toe. Then she said, ‘I never much liked Lorna. She always looked down her nose at my brother, even though he was steadfast and true. And she has strung him along quite enough for my liking.’
Cecily stared unflinchingly into Lowri Strachan’s fierce brown eyes. ‘I didn’t care much for her either.’
‘My brother is too good for her,’ said Lowri.
‘I cannot speak to that.’
‘Is he too good for you, I wonder? I know it all, Cecily MacCreadie, or Connie, as I should call you. I know what Peyton did for you, killing your lover, and the danger that puts him in.’
What awful things had Peyton told his sister? ‘If you are here to tell me what a whore and a fool I am for falling for an Englishman’s lies, don’t waste your time, for your brother has already done that.’
She frowned. ‘No. I am here to get the measure of you. Peyton seems rather smitten, you see. I would hate for him to be spurned again. Tell me, what is your arrangement with my brother?’
‘He says we should marry to save me from disgrace. Everyone at Fellscarp thinks I am his mistress, to my eternal shame.’
‘And did you accept him?’
‘No. I will marry when I have a choice in the matter. No man is going to tell me what to do.’
Lowri laughed. ‘If you think that, then you are a fool. All men ever do is order us around. But think about this. Your folly has brought danger down on every man, woman and child in Clan Strachan. Have you not heard of how the King is scouring the Marches with his wrath? On my travels, I have heard tales of forced evictions from land held for hundreds of years, on the whim of the King. What do you think the King’s man, Sir Henry Harclaw, will do if he finds out you had anything to do with his son’s death?’
Cecily had no answer to that.
Lowri’s bonnie face was grave as she said, ‘I love my brother and would protect him with my life. Can you not sacrifice your girlish notions of love and marriage and make the sensible choice? Sacrifice your happiness to keep all these souls at Fellscarp safe, your family safe.’
The lass was right. Did she really have a choice?
‘If you do wed Peyton, you’d better treat him right, or you’ll have me to deal with, said Lowri.
With a last withering look, Lowri departed. Her words had stung Cecily, but did she not deserve them? She had to do the right thing for once in her life. She had to grit her teeth and marry Peyton Ruari Strachan.
***
Peyton went down to the stables. Brothers Donnan and Rory Boyd were dozing in the hay but scrambled up when they saw him. Donnan, the older brother, was tall, mousy-haired and brawny, swelling with muscle as young men do, as if he would burst out of his skin. He was handsome, save for a pimply face and ears that stuck out of his thatch of hair, but he would grow into them. He would appeal to the lasses, which irritated Peyton. Rory was not so blessed, being but fifteen, gangly and skinny. He was no threat to Lowri’s honour.
Both lads quaked under his scrutiny. ‘I know you two helped get my sister out of that abbey,’ he said.
‘Aye, Laird, because she wrote saying that she was in dire straits and that we had to come to her aid,’ said Donnan boldly.
‘Silence, fool.’ Peyton put up a hand, and Donnan closed his mouth.
Rory wasn’t the cleverer of the two. ‘We would never let down a friend in danger. Lowri is…she is dear to us and…’
‘Friend, is it?’ snapped Peyton. ‘It had better stay that way. I have just this to say to you, lads. If Lowri comes to any harm, or if either one of you so much as looks at her in a lustful way, you will be squatting like a lass to pee for the rest of your miserable lives. Am I heard?’
They both nodded.
