Lowri and Butcher locked eyes as if they were the only two people in the world. Cullen caught the wink Butcher gave to Lowri, the look of guilt that flashed across her face. A wave of rage hit Cullen so hard, it was a fist punching inside his chest. Blood rushed to his head.
What had Lowri been doing? Getting revenge on him and all the Macaulays with handsome cutthroat Butcher. ‘The long grass?’ he said.
‘Aye, ‘tis a fine day for lying in the long grass, feeling spring’s warmth through the earth. Are you going to tell me the name of this goddess?’ said Butcher.
‘No, I am not.’
‘Why not? Is she yours?’
‘Aye, she’s my wife.’ Cullen forced a casual smile to his face, but it was an effort, for it was stiff with jealousy.
Butcher laughed. ‘A wife for Cullen Macaulay. Who would have thought it?’ He looked Lowri over insolently. ‘I suppose, I can’t have her then.’
‘I’d not have you,’ snapped Lowri.
Butcher ignored her. ‘What say you, Cullen? Can I borrow her every now and again? I’ll pay generously, for I’m partial to a black-haired lass with a bit of fight in her.’
‘She’s mine, and you’ll not touch her. Be on your way.’
Lowri stormed past both of them and went inside the cottage, and Butcher watched her go with the look of a fox spying a juicy rabbit. Once she was gone, he lost interest in taunting Cullen.
‘I can see that I’m not wanted, so I will bid you and your lovely wife good day. Do heed my warning, and don’t try to put your hand in my pockets again.’
With a nod of his head, he was gone.
Cullen stormed into the cottage, flinging the door open so hard it crashed into the wall. He was about to explode with rage. Lowri better have a good explanation for what had passed between her and one of the most ruthless men in Ireland.
Chapter Eighteen
Lowri was standing beside the fireplace when he entered, and she quickly got behind the table.
‘What is it between you two?’ raged Cullen.
‘Nothing. I encountered that man on the coastal path. He just appeared out of nowhere.’
The way Lowri stumbled over her words only served to raise his ire. The lass always had the courage to fight back, but now she seemed fearful, almost apologetic. What had she done? She rushed to the other side of the table when he moved towards her.
‘Did he touch you?’ said Cullen, leaping around the table and grabbing her.
‘No. He came up to me. I didn’t like the way he was talking, so I pointed my pistol at his head until he went away. And what did he mean, borrow me now and again?’ she spat.
‘Nothing,’ snarled Cullen through a jaw that felt wired shut. His jealousy had been a slow burn, but now it took flame. He was powerless to understand or control it. ‘He’s a dangerous man, so don’t go thinking you can replace me with him.’
‘Replace you?’
‘Why did you go roaming about on your own?’
‘I went for a walk.’
‘You should not have gone alone.’
‘I am always alone, and you never said I couldn’t. I’m not your prisoner, and I don’t need your leave to do anything.’
‘Aye, you do. You are my wife.’
She squirmed in his grasp. ‘Not for long, and not by choice, and I took the damned pistol with me.’
‘Just as well you did. Christ, Lowri. You should have stayed here. Now Butcher has seen you, he will not forget you.’
