“Aye, I do.” She wanted that woman out of Rose.
“Then ye’ll do it with me. We still dinna ken who spooked that horse or shot those arrows, or why. If they had anything to do with it, ye’ll no be safe facing the two of them alone.”
Mary nodded. “Ye speak sense.”
Cameron grinned. “As ye well ken, I always do.”
The healer snorted. “Except when out of yer head with fever, ye mean?”
Cameron rolled his eyes at her. “Ye would bring that up.”
“Someone must keep ye humble,” the healer taunted, then softened her remark with a pensive smile. “Take good care of our lass.”
“Always.” He took Mary’s arm and led her to the stairs. “Are ye sure ye want to do this right away, Mary, my love?”
“I am. The sooner she goes back to Grant, the better for Rose.”
“Then let’s be about it.”
Cameron rapped on the laird’s door, then opened it, not waiting to be bid to enter. He went in first, Mary on his heels.
Seona, dressed only in her shift and a robe, sat by the hearth.
Her guardsman, shirtless, muscles bulging, stood behind her, his hands in her hair. He quickly removed them and stepped back as Seona gasped. “How dare ye!” he barked.
“I did no’ invite ye in,” Seona added. “So ye are rude as well as a disobedient daughter?”
“And ye,” Mary answered, her gaze on Seona, “have dishonored yer marriage vows more times than I ken. For my father’s sake, I turned a blind eye. And for the clan, so did he.”
Seona gasped.
“Aye,” Mary snapped. “I’m told ye argued before he collapsed, so I imagine ye ken he was aware of yer betrayal. Did he tell ye he wouldha claimed the bairn anyway, had it lived?”
“If it was male, aye.” Seona sniffed.
“But ye werena satisfied. Ye had to flaunt yer affair, and eventually ye killed him.” She turned her gaze to the guardsman for a moment.
Seona shrugged, and Mary saw her mother’s arrogance reflected in her posture.
“Did yer mother put ye up to this once she learned ye were breeding?”
Seona shook her head. “She didna ken.”
“I dinna believe ye.”
At least the guardsman had the decency to look grieved at the mention of the his bairn. His daughter. Mary regretted he never got to see her before the healer prepared her for burial. She could sympathize with him—a little. He’d been trapped by his feelings for a lass he’d known since childhood.
Seona might have been a lovely child, once, long ago, but how could he continue to pine for her once she grew into the spoiled, arrogant brat she’d been since she arrived at Rose? Seona made Mary’s blood boil. “Ye will pack yer things tonight and leave for Grant at first light,” Mary commanded. “Ye dinna belong here any longer.”
“Ye canna order me about,” Seona objected, chin up. “I am Lady Rose.”
“Ye lied in order to wed my father. Ye were no’ untouched, and worse, ye already carried another man’s bairn. I will have yer marriage to my father annulled,” Mary snarled, “no matter how long it takes. And if ye dinna leave on yer own in the morn, my warriors will remove ye.”
“Yerwarriors?” Seona sniffed. She narrowed her eyes at Cameron.
Mary wanted to slap the smirk from the lass’s face.
“She is heir,” Cameron reminded Seona. “Ye heard her father declare Lady Mary and me heirs to Rose before we left for Sutherland. I have the document he signed.” He fingered the pommel of his broadsword, a gesture likely not lost on either of the Grants. “Is that why ye tried to kill her? Why ye had someone shoot at her in the woods? So there could be nay challenge to ye and yer lover? Ye must have been furious when yer husband signed Rose’s future over to Mary—and to Catherine after her.”
