Sadie frowned. “Convince you of what?”
“That you two should be allowed to continue your Season here and not be sent back home.”
Iseabail’s eyes widened in horror, but Sadie knew him too well to be fully intimidated. “Connall, you’ll not be—”
He raised a single finger. Thankfully he still held enough authority to silence her mid-sentence. “Downstairs. We’ll not disturb the countess again.” Then he turned on his heel and left.
*
The countess’s libraryhad been the province of her late husband, but that had been several years ago. A large desk dominated the back corner of the room, its top gleaming with fresh wax. But that was the only beautiful part of the whole room. Every other thing looked slightly shabby and rarely used.
A week into his sojourn in this house, Connall had taken this place as his own. And though he never disturbed what was already in the room, he’d set it to use. The desk now had a pile of letters he’d received from Scotland yesterday afternoon. A moment after Connall entered the room, the butler brought tea in and placed it on a table near the fire. And best of all, Connall had found a love of the chair behind the late earl’s desk. It was soft and fit him well.
He sat and tried to pull in every ounce of authority he could. He’d barely sat down when all three women filed in.
Sadie and Iseabail took the seats directly in front of him. They both looked nervous and a bit ashamed, though Sadie, as usual, had a defiant tilt to her body. Mairi came last and settled in a chair by the fire. Near enough to hear, but not officially part of the interrogation.
He had a moment of pure pleasure seeing her there. That would be the act of a wife to the laird. She would be there to listen and support but would not challenge his authority. It made him smile at her until she blushed rose. And given the morning sunlight falling on her face, he could see every delightful shift in color.
“Would you rather we skip this?” Sadie drawled. “We are happy to raise our hands and swear never to do something so foolish again, aren’t we Iseabail?”
Iseabail’s hand shot up. “Never again,” she said firmly.
Connall forced himself to look away from Mairi to glare at Sadie. “Tell me what happened,” he commanded.
“Well…” began Iseabail.
“It was nothing,” interrupted Sadie.
“The countess has it well in hand,” continued Iseabail. “She’s brilliant about these things.”
Sadie nodded. “She was very angry and chastised us thoroughly.”
“We’ve learned our lesson.”
The patter went on for a tediously long time. Long enough for Mairi to lose her patience. “Oh, for the love of heaven above,” she snapped. So much for being the silent lady who did not interfere. “Out with it. Iseabail, you first.”
And so, the whole tale spilled out starting with poor Miss Duncan who was attacked by a blighter, Sadie’s risky measure, and Iseabail’s surprised participation.
“I don’t regret it,” Iseabail said. “It ended perfectly.”
“Has it?” Connall asked. “Did the man die? Do you know what the English might do to a Scottish woman who killed one of their own? A darling son—”
“Do you know what he did? Do you know what he has been doing?” Sadie demanded.
“Do you think an English court will care?”
That silenced them all. They all knew that the courts were not friendly to women, and Scotswomen were even more vulnerable. He let them stew in that fear. He would have to find out what had happened to the man. He completely relied upon the countess to mitigate any damage to the girls’ reputations, but she could do nothing to stop any more violent revenge. Given what he’d already heard of this Mr. Carr and Mr. Barrett, he feared that nothing would restrain them from seeking revenge in a more tangible way.
It was up to him to stop that, and that would take time and information. But in the meantime, he couldn’t have Sadie and Iseabail thinking what they’d done was safe or even sane.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked. “I could have handled this—”
“Among men?” Iseabail challenged. “That’s exactly why bastards like him exist. Because men allow them to.”
Connall’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know me well, Iseabail, so I will forgive you that statement. But do not think that I am anything like your uncle or his men.”
“Then you know their character,” she said.
