She put a hand to her stomach. ‘It lies with my husband, and the bairn we have coming, first and foremost.’
‘Bairn?’
‘Aye. I am carrying Cullen’s child, but you must know that I will always be loyal to you, Peyton, and if you love me, you will hear me out and not make me choose between two men that I love.’ Lowri crossed her arms and faced her brother down. But she should not have to.
Cullen put his arm around Lowri’s shoulders. It was as much a declaration of ownership as it was of comfort. He narrowed his eyes at Strachan. It’s not as if backing down would do him any good. ‘I will not force Lowri to choose between us. She may do as she pleases.’
‘She always has,’ snapped Strachan, rolling his eyes.
‘Then it is best that I leave you to talk it out. There is no forcing from me, you may be assured of that.’
‘But I choose you!’ cried Lowri.
‘Aye, but you must reconcile with your family and explain how we came to be married. I should not be here for that. And you know that I have to go.’
‘Go where?’ snarled Peyton.
Cullen ignored the man, for it was clear there was no reasoning with him at present. He bowed to Cecily. She gave him a sweet, bemused smile in return.
Cullen walked towards the gates in a fury. Strachan had insulted him to his face, and Cullen was prepared to take it, given the circumstances. After all, his family had as good as kidnapped Lowri. But there was a pit of dread in his gut. What if Lowri wanted to stay at Fellscarp and never go with him again? Her family clearly loved her, and her brother would forgive her anything, which might account for her reckless, wilful character.
‘Cullen!’
Lowri rushed to him and flung her arms around his neck. ‘Please don’t go. Peyton will calm down. He is all bluster.’
‘There is murder in his eyes. He will never accept this.’
‘He will, and if he does not, it is you and me, always, Cullen. Just you and me, and no one else matters.
Cullen stared at Lowri, drinking in every scrap of her wild beauty. He might never see her again if it went against him at Scarcross. The thought was a gut punch and stole his words from his throat. So, instead of goodbye, he kissed Lowri like his life depended on it and rushed away, so that he wouldn’t have to see the tears streaking her cheeks and feel his heart break into a thousand pieces.
***
Peyton’s face was stern in the firelight, all hard edges and a grim set to his jaw. He was seething inside, she knew it. Cecily had wisely left them to it, after much fussing, with orders to Peyton to hold his temper and hear Lowri out. Dusk was falling outside the windows. Cullen would be at Scarcross by now, facing God knows what.
‘This is a fine mess, isn’t it?’
When her brother spoke into the silence, Lowri did not recognise the flinty edge to his voice. She had indulged in all kinds of folly, but she had never been on the receiving end of Peyton’s all-out wrath before. In her absence, he seemed to have taken on the mantle of Laird Strachan, and he now had the command and presence of one who men obey without question. Not so his errant sister.
‘Are you going to sulk at the fire all night?’ she said.
He glared. ‘What do you expect – joy, celebrations, a wedding feast. You went off with a Macaulay without so much as a by-your-leave. I thought you were dead. Can you understand how agonising that was for me, for all of us?’
Suddenly, recounting all the highs and lows of her adventures seemed a daunting task. How could she ever explain falling head over heels for an enemy? How to make her brother understand that forcing had turned into loving?
‘Peyton. I never meant to hurt you. But how I came to be with a Macaulay is a long story.’
‘I have all night, so tell it, Lowri. Tell me what I did to deserve such disdain.’
Lowri took a deep breath and told her brother the bare truth. It was mortifying, but she left nothing out – not her foolish plan to reive against his orders, her degrading imprisonment, her fear that she would dangle at the end of a noose. She haltingly recounted her forced marriage and the arrangement she entered to save her friends. But she had to stop momentarily when she reached the part of the tale where Donnan revealed himself a traitor, because Peyton’s hands clenched into fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. Lowri decided it was best to leaveout the part about Butcher and Briony and the danger they had posed. That would keep until another time. She was allowed some secrets, as Peyton had kept his in the past.
‘I am sorry, I caused you grief,’ she said. ‘It was not intentional. I got mixed up in folly and paid a terrible price. But it brought me to a good place.’
‘And how is that?’
‘Peyton, there is much more to tell, but not tonight. I am tired.’
‘Am I ever to hear it?
