Page 46 of Return to Clan Sinclair
“It’ll be good for Ceana to be back where she belongs,” Dennis said, eyeing him closely.
Was this some sort of damn test of his tact and tolerance? If so, he was about to spectacularly fail it.
“Why, so you can make sure she’s miserable? What’s wrong with her being with her family?”
Dennis reared back on his chair. “We are her family.”
“Some family,” he said. “You make sure she’s still wearing mourning three years after her husband dies. She has to sneak away from Ireland in order to visit her brother. You come chasing after her the minute she’s been gone too long—according to you. Are you sure you’re not her jailer?”
Before Dennis could speak, he added, “I don’t think she should go back to Ireland. Her home might have been there once, but it isn’t anymore.”
“And where do you think it is? With you?”
“That’s not your decision to make, is it?” he asked.
Or his. Only one person could make it. If he was brave enough to give her the choice.
Yes, damn it, he was.
“She’s no better than she should be,” Brianag said, staring at Ceana and her daughters. “She and the American have been creeping about at night.”
Macrath turned and looked at his housekeeper.
“Ellice was the same,” she said. “Each itching to share a bed with a man.”
“I think it’s about time you retired, Brianag,” Macrath said.
The older woman stared at Macrath, her eyes narrowing.
“You should take life a little easier. You’re no longer a young woman.”
To Virginia’s surprise, Brianag only nodded.
What on earth would Drumvagen be like with Brianag remaining in her cottage in the village? She wouldn’t be stomping about Drumvagen all day, issuing dire pronouncements and Celtic curses.
They all loved the old dear in their way, but Brianag’s love was sparingly given and only after a test of wills. The only two people she was certain Brianag adored were Macrath and Alistair. Even she was regarded with suspicion by the housekeeper.
“You’ll send for the wagon, then?” Brianag asked.
Macrath nodded. “Whenever you wish.”
“Sooner done, sooner over.”
She’d never peered into Brianag’s room on the third floor and didn’t know anyone who had. She couldn’t even imagine all the treasures she’d accumulated over the years.
When Brianag left the room, she turned to Macrath.
“Are you really certain you want to pension her off?”
He nodded. “I’m fond of her but I’ll not have her scaring Fiona. And I’ll not have her telling tales of Ceana.”
“Even if they’re true?”
“Are they?” he asked, looking startled.
She wrapped her arm around his and headed for the door of the Great Hall, intent on giving Ceana and her daughters some privacy.
“I don’t think she’s going back to Ireland,” she began.
