Page 38 of Moon Craving

When the other man did not seem to know he was supposed to shut up, Talorc

turned to the baron with the full force of his displeasure. "I am neither civilized nor am I

English. We leave as soon as my wife is garbed appropriately."

"There was nothing wrong with her dress. Her clothes are the height of fashion."

Lady Hamilton looked mortally offended.

"Niall, inform this woman who thinks nothing of beating her daughter into

submission how close to death she came."

Niall said the appropriate words in English.

The woman started shrieking at her husband to take exception to such an insult.

Talorc turned to the baron. "You allowed her to harm what belongs to me. You live

only because your daughter pled for your life."

Niall started to translate into English, but the baron waved the words away. "I

speak your language," he said in English. "I was led to believe you speak English as well."

"Our laird does not allow the language of traitors to pass his lips," Niall said with

harsh anger.

Instead of getting angry, as Talorc would have expected, Sir Reuben merely

looked thoughtful. "Your father married Lady Tamara of Oborek."

Talorc nodded.

"I would not wish such a match on my worst enemy."

It was Talorc's turn to be shocked, but he did not allow his surprise to show on his

face.

"Sybil can be a grasping shrew, but she would not betray her house," the baron

said in Gaelic.

"That shrew will never see her daughter again."

"I supposed as much."

The woman in question was still complaining, but no one paid her any heed, not

even her husband. She moved from complaint to wheedling, trying to talk Talorc into

staying so Abigail could share a last meal with her family.

Since she continued to utter the profanity to his ears that was English, he made no

attempt to answer. Or even acknowledge she was speaking.