‘Whelp? Rowenna is not some piece of livestock to breed from.’
‘She is, to Jasper Glendenning.’
‘As I am to you?’ cried Cecily.
‘Am I trying to breed from you, Cecily? Or am I saving our life?’ snarled Peyton.
Anger and shock made her reckless. ‘You would profit from rescuing me,’ she cried. ‘You want me in your bed. You men are all the same – all lust and bullying and forcing.’
‘Do not flatter yourself, lass.’
An angry silence fell between them, and then Peyton spoke a damning truth. ‘Your sister has married a Glendenning – that means you MacCreadies are no friends of mine.’
‘It is not my fault this has happened.’
He glared at her. ‘Why did you lie and say Glendenning wanted you? Tell me.’
‘I did not lie, and Rowenna can’t have wed him. She hates him.’
‘Well, she has.’
‘Oh, this is awful. It is unbearable.’
Peyton frowned. ‘Are you disappointed that Rowenna has had to take Jasper in marriage or that he hasn’t taken you? Which is it?’
‘I despise that man. I hate that my sister has been forced to have him, and forced she was, for she’d not have him willingly. He will hurt her. He is a brute. It is unbearable.’
‘I would blame your cur of a father,’ said Peyton. ‘If he’d had any love for his daughters, neither of you would have been forced to marry men you despise.’
‘I do not despise you, Peyton.’
‘And how am I supposed to believe that? You shun me. You run from my bed, from your own wedding. You have lied to me since I met you, Cecily. And you are looking at me now with such disgust. How can I think otherwise?’
‘You have it all wrong.’
‘On that, we can agree. I have it all wrong, for I thought you might come to care for me, and now I know that I am just a safe port in a storm.’
‘Safe? Peyton, you imprisoned me, took me from my family and dragged me into your bed. How is that safe?’
He kicked the shingle. ‘I am not an animal like Jasper Glendenning, nor will I ever be. I will not be forcing myself on you again, for I want a woman in my bed, not a spoiled bairn. And if you really think that bedding you is all I want, Cecily, then we are done, woman. Enjoy your lonely bed this night.’
Peyton stormed away. Why was he so touchy when it was she who had received terrible news? His temper was like gunpowder, one spark, and it blew up in her face.
‘Peyton. Forgive me. I did not mean it,’ she cried.
‘Aye, you did,’ he called back, and then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty
The sun was setting, and the wood pile had grown, yet Peyton was still torn about what to do. Sweat cooled on his forehead as he leaned on the door jamb to take a breath. His skin cooled a little as the strong wind billowed under his shirt.
When thinking things through, he always needed a task to occupy him. Father Luggan had gone east at dawn, taking his wise counsel with him, not that he had anything to offer beyond entreaties that Peyton give Cecily the benefit of the doubt. ‘She is young, and maybe her vanity was pricked at Glendenning taking an interest. She would have read into it, making up girlish notions about him admiring her. Or her father put the notion in her head. Either way, from what she has told me, Cecily loathes that man.’
The priest’s word had done nothing to dispel Peyton’s anger, so he had avoided Cecily lest he lash out at her. He placed a lump of wood on the ground and was about to attack it with the axe when he heard a swish of skirts behind him.
Cecily stood there in a simple brown dress, the lowering sun leaving a halo of gold around her head. She had sought him out for some reason. A thud of desire went straight to Peyton’s loins, but he tried to banish it.
‘I did not lie to you about Jasper Glendenning,’ she said.
