Page 50 of Moon Craving

her mother's machinations had been behind Abigail's ignorance. Maybe he had called

Sybil an indelicate name?

Abigail did not care. "Yes. She did not think I needed to know the plans for my

future."

Neither man asked Abigail why her mother would treat her so cruelly. Thank

goodness. They probably attributed it to the fact Sybil was English.

Talorc winced. "When I arranged my sister's first wedding, I told her the moment

the plans were finalized."

Emily used to remind Abigail that tone of voice held as much or more meaning than

the words people spoke, but Abigail could not even remember what those tones might

sound like. She only knew that when watched closely, a person's face told its own story.

One that did not always agree with the spoken word either.

Talorc's expression was a mixture of chagrin and righteousness, both at odds with

his claim.

"That was the same night he had her wed to his second-in-command," Niall said

with a wink.

Ah, that explained it. Her husband had no wish to think he was like the

Englishwoman he had called bitch.

"'Twas not the same. I had not arranged her mating with a stranger from a foreign

land. Caitriona knew Sean from the time she was a babe, and they liked each other well

enough." But something in Talorc's expression told Abigail he felt guilt for his actions all

the same.

She liked him for that. He cared that he might have hurt his sister. It was something

Abigail could cling to in regard to her own future. She hoped.

"The first time she wed?" she asked.

"Sean died in battle. Cait wed Drustan, second-in-command to the Balmoral,

after."

"No wonder you are now allies."

Niall snorted. It was not words but an expression of disbelief that Abigail had seen

far too many times not to recognize. Talorc gave his soldier a quelling glare--with little