Page 86 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

Gavin scoffed. “Those men meant nothing to him. Just as killing means nothing.”

“No, you are wrong,” Fiona interjected. “I watched his face as he fought. Gilroy did what was necessary, yet he took no joy in the act. He is not merely a brutal ruffian. There is honor in him.”

“Then I shall afford him an honorable death,” Gavin replied, anger thickening his voice. “At the end of a rope.”

“No!” Aileen’s voice was adamant. “If ye do this, I shall tell my father to break the alliance with King Robert and withdraw his support.”

Gavin cocked his head to one side and stared at Aileen in disbelief. “Don’t ye dare to threaten me! The Countess of Kirkland will bend her knee in supplication and reverence to our rightful king,” Gavin bellowed.

Aileen pulled herself to her fullest height, tilted her chin and looked him directly in the eye. “We both know that I shall never be yer countess, Gavin McLendon. So I’m asking ye straight out—do ye want to save the alliance between our clans or toss it on the rubbish heap? The choice is entirely up to ye.”

Edict delivered, Aileen turned on her heel and stomped toward her horse.

“’Tis a shame ye’ll not have the chance to bed that one,” Ewan said with a smirk. “She’s a lively lass, assured to offer some excitement between the sheets.”

“Shut up.” Gavin cuffed the younger man on the back of the head, then shoved him toward two waiting soldiers. “Dinnae forget I can still let ye hang. Best watch yer tongue or I’ll toss a rope over a sturdy tree limb and do it right now.”

As his men took a still-grinning Gilroy away, Gavin turned his attention toward Fiona.

All expression drained from her face.

The others pulled back. After so much chaos, the glen became oddly silent. Fiona’s mouth opened several times, yet she spoke not a word, continuing to stare at him as though she were debating what to say. Gavin folded his arms across his chest impatiently.

She had defied his orders, placed herself in grave danger, scared him half to death, then led him on a harrowing chase. An explanation was the very least he deserved. And it had better be a damn good one.

“I cannae believe it, Fiona,” Gavin finally said. “The one time I’m waiting for ye to speak yer mind, ye haven’t said a word to me.”

She inclined her head. “I am beholden to you for coming to our aid. I thought traveling with the grain cart as an escort would be safe, but I was wrong.”

Fiona fixed her stare over his shoulder, refusing to look at him. Gavin would not allow it. Taking her chin, he angled it toward him, forcing her to look directly at him. “Why did ye run from me, Fiona?”

Her eyes welled with tears. “I did not have the strength to stand docilely by in silence while you married another woman.”

“Why?”

Fiona shook her head, pulling away from his hands. “I just couldn’t.”

“Why?” he repeated.

Fiona moved to walk away from him. Gavin grasped her arm, keeping her beside him, and waited. “Pride,” she finally mumbled, her chin sinking down to rest on her chest. “’Twas my pride that compelled me to leave.”

“Only yer pride?”

“Yes.” Fiona stood without moving, her hands curled at her side. Only the slight trembling of her lips hinted at the extent of her anguish.

It was a feeling he suddenly shared. He had believed she left because she cared for him, even loved him. Hopefully, as much as he loved her. Was he wrong? Had it truly only been pride that prompted such rash action? Uncertainty momentarily plagued him, but Gavin brushed it aside.

He had nearly lost Fiona today. He was not about to let her get away from him a second time. Feeling far less sure of himself, Gavin cleared his throat.

“Lady Aileen just refused my suite. Rather adamantly. And loud enough to be heard in London, I’m sure.”

His lips curved, hoping to tempt a small smile from her. But Fiona winced and looked away. “Aileen is upset, and rightly so, after this harrowing ordeal. I’m certain once she speaks with her father, all will be set to rights.”

“I willnae marry her.”

He threw the words down like a gauntlet, then waited for her to react. Would she be happy that the marriage was not going to take place? Was that enough to entice her to willingly return?

“If not Lady Aileen, then you shall marry some other Scottish noblewoman,” Fiona rasped, casting her gaze on the ground. “We both understand that is what your king wants and your duty requires.”

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