Page 37 of Scot of Seduction

“How?” Tad asked in an undertone of danger.

“Because ye ken I would kill fer Ilyssa. I’d sooner kill meself than ever see her hurt. Ye ken that,” Bran hissed venomously.

“And ye think I would ever see Cat hurt?” Tad asked, gesturing toward her. She was doing her best to hold her tears in but failing. Behind her in the doorway, others were approaching. Tad was sure he could see Ilyssa at the front, though he kept his focus firmly on Bran. “Ye think I would risk her? Risk tae see her hurt?”

“Ye trail women behind ye like they are beetles crushed beneath yer feet,” Bran said tartly.

Tad took a step back. It was a low blow, even now.

“I have never done that.” He shook his head. He looked at Catreena, watching as she wiped another tear from her cheek.

“Bran, we talked of courtship,” she said, cutting into their conversation. “It isnae what ye think.”

Tad marked the change in Bran’s expression. It was momentary surprise before he seemed to shrug it off and shake his head. He walked away.

“Probably just what he said tae get that dress of ye in the first place.”

“Bran,” she said in a small voice.

It sounded wrong to Tad’s ears, to hear Catreena speaking in a small tone at all. It wasn’t her. She was full of defiance and fire. It was one of the things that drew him to her so much. It made the way Bran had belittled her all the more painful.

“That isnae what happened,” Tad said with fierceness. Bran turned back to face him, struggling to stand still. Ilyssa had moved to Bran’s side and taken his arm in an attempt to calm him, though it did very little. The moment’s hesitation it gave though, was what Tad needed to keep speaking. “It was me plan tae speak tae ye and yer braithers. I was going tae ask fer yer blessing tae court Catreena.”

“Strange,” Bran said, thick sarcasm in his tone. “Ye could wait tae speak tae me, but ye could nae wait tae bed me sister.”

Catreena flinched, as if she had been struck by Bran’s words.

Tad felt as if he had been hit yet again. He fell back, slumping on the table behind him.

He’s right.

Tad had been weak. For all his plans to speak to Bran and his brothers, to do this properly, Tad couldn’t stay away from Catreena. The moment she had begged him, he had been malleable to her, happy to break all his rules just to taste her and make her his for good.

“Bran, just breathe, please,” Ilyssa begged, but Bran ignored her. He rounded on his sister instead.

“Catreena, how could ye? Ye of all people ken what he is.” Bran thrust a finger at Tad as if he was sludge beneath his shoes. “Ye must be mad. Ye must have lost all semblance of yer sanity tae even consider it in the first place.”

“Bran,” she said with sudden fervor and feeling. She jerked her chin high. Despite the tears, she suddenly looked regal indeed. It made the guilt swell in Tad even more. He had compromised her. It was his fault. “Ye forget, what I dae with me life is me concern. I am nae yer marionette tae control. So, instead of belittling me fer nae having sanity, why dinnae ye respect me decisions as just that? They are me decisions.”

Ilyssa waved her hand madly behind Bran’s back, clearly thinking that was not a good route for Catreena to go down, but something in what Catreena had said took the wind out of Bran.

His shoulders slumped an inch and he stepped toward Catreena.

“I am nae yer faither, nor yer controller, but I am yer braither and yer protector. Ye have more heart than most women I ken, Catreena.” Her words made Catreena look down at the ground between them. “And I dinnae want tae see ye hurt by the likes of him.”

“Ye were me best friend just minutes ago, Bran,” Tad spoke up, though Ilyssa now started waving her hand madly at him, trying to get him to hold his tongue instead.

“Dinnae say another word,” Bran mirrored her silent order with words instead. “Pack yer bags, Catreena. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Ilyssa spluttered, speaking up at last.

“We cannae leave,” Catreena murmured, shaking her head.

“Aye, we’re going. Just as soon as we’re packed, first thing in the morning. Go. Now.” Bran thrust a finger at the door.

“Ye are nae me faither!” she barked at him again. His hand lowered an inch, an apologetic look in his eye.

“But I am yer family. We shall go home where we will discuss this as a family. We’ll also discuss this friendship too,” he said, scoffing as he looked at Tad. “And as fer ye,” he kept his eyes on Tad. “Dinnae come near her again.”