The urge to apologize bubbled up inside Fiona then, yet the words stuck in her throat. She was too mortified. How long had the laird been standing outside? Had he heard them?
Heat rolled over her.
Aye, she could tell from his face that, indeed, he had listened to them coupling.
He had all the proof he needed that his son was swiving a servant.
From the day Fiona entered this castle, she’d been warned about the laird’s reckless son. But she hadn’t stayed away fromhim. Instead, she’d let the excitement of it all carry her away. And now, it had come to this.
“I never took ye for a half-wit, Ailean,” the laird continued, his gaze locking with his son’s once more. “I told ye I wouldn’t suffer ye messing with any who work under this roof.”
“For God’s sake … ye speak as if the end of the world is nigh,” Ailean shot back, frustrated now. Dizziness swept over Fiona. Lord, he was making this worse. “Fiona and I have only been doing what thousands have done before us … and many more will do so after us,” he continued. “Enjoying each other. That’s nothing to get yer braies in a knot over.”
A sickly sensation washed over Fiona.Enjoying each other.Aye, that was what they’d been doing. There had been no promises. No vows of love and devotion. Yet he made it sound so casual. As if she were just another notch on his belt. Another lass he’d swive and then forget.
Of course, she was. Had she expected anything else?
Her breathing grew shallow.Ye have the wits of a goose, Fiona Mackinnon.
“So, ye’ll wed the lass, then?” Maclean ground out, his eyes narrowing. “Ye’ll throw over a chieftain’s daughter and take this weaver as yer wife instead?”
20: UNWORTHY
A SHOCKED BEAT OF silence followed.
Fiona started to tremble, her pulse racing so wildly it felt as if her heart would burst from her rib cage.
Moments slipped by, and as they did, she forgot how to breathe.
Now was Ailean’s opportunity. His chance to prove this had been more than a game to him. Aye, it had started as a bit of fun between them, but perhaps she misjudged him.
Maybe it washerhe really wanted, after all.
But as the pause drew out, his silence damned them both.
And when she glanced Ailean’s way once more, queasiness twisted in her gut. The man looked horrified, as if his father had just suggested he take a hag as his bride.
Maclean had called his son’s bluff. He’d given him a test. One he’d failed.
He’d just confirmed that he’d never bind himself to a lowly weaver.
And despite that she’d never expected Ailean to fall in love with her, the truth was a hard blow to the center of her chest.
Maclean’s mouth twisted. “I thought as much.”
He cast another pitying look in Fiona’s direction—one that made her want to lash out at them both.
Caught between two proud men, she’d never felt so humiliated.
“I’ll not discuss this sordid business where anyone could be listening in,” the laird continued, when it was clear his son wasn’t going to answer him. “We shall continue this upstairs in my solar.” Maclean turned then to Fiona. “Return to yer bower for now, lass,” he said, his voice softening just slightly, even if his gaze remained flint-hard. “I will let my wife decide yer fate at dawn.”
Fiona nodded woodenly. In truth, she’d expected to be dismissed on the spot. However, she felt no relief. Instead, numbness rolled over her, as if all of this were happening to someone else.
“Fiona—”
Ailean roused himself then, as if coming out of a trance. He stepped forward, one hand reaching for her arm, but she nimbly sidestepped him.
“Let her go, Ailean,” Maclean’s voice lashed across the smoky barmkin. “Ye have caused enough damage. Don’t make matters worse.”
