Page 62 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
"So ye struck her."
"I disciplined her, aye. Someone had to teach her to be more careful." Duncan spread his hands as if the matter were perfectly reasonable. "These servants get lazy if ye daenae keep a firm hand with them. Surely ye understand that."
Lachlan's jaw clenched. "A firm hand doesnae mean strikin' anyone."
"She'll remember to be more careful next time." Duncan's tone carried just a hint of defiance. "And the other servants will take note. It's effective management, cousin."
"Effective management." Lachlan repeated the words slowly, as if tasting something foul. "Is that what ye call it?"
"What would ye call it?"
"Takin’ advantage of yer position. Cowardice." Lachlan planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Strikin' someone who cannae fight back."
Duncan's mask of reasonableness finally cracked. "She's a servant, Lachlan. They exist to serve us, nae the other way around. If ye coddle them, they'll walk all over ye."
"Like they walk all over me now?" Lachlan's voice was deadly quiet.
"I dinnae mean?—"
"Because from where I sit, me servants respect me. They work hard, they're loyal, and they daenae flinch when I walk into a room." Lachlan straightened to his full height. "Can ye say the same about yerself, cousin?"
Duncan's face flushed red. "They fear ye because ye killed yer own father. That's nae the same as respect."
The words hung in the air like a challenge. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire in the hearth.
When Lachlan spoke again, his voice could have frozen blood. "Ye want to repeat that?"
Duncan paled, suddenly realizing he'd crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed. "Lachlan, I dinnae mean?—"
"Nay, ye meant it. Ye think because we share blood, because yer faither was me faither's brother, that gives ye the right to question me methods?" Lachlan moved around the desk with predatory grace. "Ye think it means ye can terrorize me people without consequences?"
"She's just a servant?—"
"She and every other person in this clan is under me protection!" The words exploded from Lachlan's chest like thunder. "Every person in this castle is under me protection, and that includes protection from ye."
Duncan shrank back in his chair. "I was just?—"
"Ye were just showin' yer true nature. And it's ugly, cousin." Lachlan stopped directly in front of Duncan's chair, close enough that his shadow fell across the smaller man. "Me wife had to step in to protect a lass from her own laird's family. Do ye have any idea how that makes me look?"
"Yer wife should mind her own affairs," Duncan muttered.
Wrong answer.
Lachlan's hand shot out, gripping the arms of Duncan's chair and effectively trapping him. "Me wife is the Lady of this castle. Protectin' the servants is exactly her affair."
"She's nae even been here a month?—"
"And in that time, she's shown more leadership than ye've managed in years." Lachlan's face was inches from Duncan's now. "She saw someone in trouble and acted to protect them. Ye saw someone vulnerable and decided to hurt them. Which one of us do ye think deserves to lead?"
Duncan's throat worked as he swallowed hard. "I... I apologize, cousin. I dinnae realize?—"
"Ye dinnae realize that cruelty is wrong? That a man doesnae strike a lass half his size over spilled water?" Lachlan's laugh was harsh. "What exactly did ye think gave ye that right?"
"Nothin'. Nothin' gave me that right." Duncan's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Nay. It dinnae." Lachlan straightened, but didn't step back. "And if I hear of ye layin' a hand on another servant—ever—there will be consequences. Do ye understand me?"
"Aye."
