Page 2 of Plaid Attitude
Unconsciously, her fingers curled around the rag.
What we deserve.
The clan’s Easter celebration was in a few days, and during all the planning and arranging, a sense of dread had pooled in Coira’s stomach. The laird was undoubtably going to use this opportunity—with so many of his family and clan around him—to finally make an announcement about who would follow him.
And Coira would love to delay that announcement as long as possible.
Although not knowing who Da’s heir was made life difficult, especially when it came to the everyday running of clan business, which she’d been handling for years…having the decision made and announced would be even worse.
Because, despite what she deserved, despite being the best choice, Coira knew it wouldn’t be her.
She was awoman.
Curse her stupid vagina!
If she’d been born a man—especially as the eldest of six—with her abilities, there’d be no question of her taking her rightful place as the next Oliphant leader. Since Da’s decline, she’d taken on more and more of the clan business; not just training with the warriors, but also overseeing improvements, commerce, and planting.
But the lairdship would be handed to one of her brothers-in-law, just becausehehad a cock.
The sound of water being poured from the ewer shook her from her angry thoughts, and she watched Bessetta dip a cloth into the bowl then wipe at her forehead.
“Life can be a battle, milady, but it doesnaehaveto be. ‘Tis what my father always says.”
When she offered the cool, wet cloth, Coira snatched it with a scowl. “Aye, well, yer father is famous for no’ being riled.”
“Ye’re just saying that because he never reacts to yer insults.”
The girl was right, so Coira snorted again. “Mayhap he’s too stupid to realize he’s being insulted.”
“Careful.” The lass’s eyes were twinkling when she dropped her hand to her sword hilt. “That’s my Da ye’re speaking of.”
Coira rolled her eyes then splashed more water on her face.
The lass was the daughter of Doughall, the Oliphant Commander. A stubborn, irritating man Coira had been forced to deal with for the last five years since she’d begun to handle clan business. Before then, he’d been the one she’d had to beg to be allowed to train with the men.
Even now that she had a bit of power, she’d never forgotten how humiliating that had been.
“Da’s no’ stupid, Lady Coira. He just doesnae mind yer insults.”
“The man doesnae mind much,” she muttered, scrubbing at her face.
Bessetta was scratching behind Rebecca’s ears. “Nay, he only seems that way. He listens and makes a decision, then goes and does what he thinks is right. Words dinnae matter as much to him. Unless those words areDa, braies, can, please, wear, I,in any order.”
Straightening, Coira frowned her way through that sequence. “Please wear I braies can?”
The lass nuzzled her nose against the heavy red pelt of the coo. “Speaking of being stupid…”
“What?”
Snapping upright, Bessetta grinned. “Da, can I please wear braies?”
Unbidden, Coira’s chin dropped so she was staring at her own bare feet. Above them stretched her calves, but her knees were carefully hidden by the leather braies she wore. In the winter she often wore a skirt—and stockings and boots—over them for warmth, but since they’d been sparring…
“What’s wrong with braies?”
“Naught!” The girl flopped over her pet’s back. “They’re more comfortable to move about in, and much easier to fight in. Da just says it’s unnatural.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” Coira growled, turning to slap the cloth back into the bowl. “Because ye’re a woman, I suppose?”
