Page 25 of The Plight of a Scottish Lass
“Nay,” he replied a bit too sharply. “Unless you wish to be dragged out by your hair. I’ll remind you that his intent was to kill you. I doubt that has changed.” Then he spun around and followed his guard outside.
“Artan, the situation update, if you please?”
“Aye, Chief. He came on a small birlinn. Our men watched him approach. Four oarsmen, and he has two men with him. Each with a sword.”
“Size?”
Artan arched a brow at his chieftain. “Men or swords?”
Thane snorted. “Appropriate question. Both.”
“Raghnall is the type to be all talk, his two men are larger, beefier, more muscular. Her husband has no muscles that I can see. Soft in the belly, eats too much, talks incessantly about nothing. He carries no visible weapon. The other two have one sheathed sword each that are not as fine as ours. Easily taken, my guess.”
Thane pulled on the bottom of his short beard, a habit he had when he entered into unexpected situations. He had a vague memory of scratching his chin when he was young, and an older man, he guessed his sire, would slap his hand away, telling him not to be indecisive.
This was his small form of rebellion. The man did not deserve the title of father. He left the three siblings long ago with their harsh mother, who deserted them not long after.
Neither one deserved bairns. Both were the reason he would never have any of his own.
He scratched his neck beneath his beard, an act of defiance he didn’t deny himself. It did lessen his anger to a low simmer, so he didn’t stop it. He was actually looking forward to looking the man in the eye.
He strode through the gates and across the bridge, marching up to Tamsin’s husband, because he knew exactly which one he was, thanks to Artan’s thorough description.
Stopping directly in front of the man who backed up one step, he looked down at him with derision. “You are Raghnall Garvie?”
“Aye. Who the hell are you?”
He pulled his fist back and landed a hard blow on the man’s cheekbone, nearly knocking him off his feet. Both his guards attempted to grab Thane, one placing a dagger at his throat, but Thane took the dagger from him with one smooth move. He drove the flat of his hand into the swine’s chin, snapping his head back and sending him to the ground.
The third man dropped his weapon and held up his hands, stepping back.
Raghnall rubbed his cheek and said, “What the hell was that for?”
Thane’s hands went to his hips, where he liked to keep them in case he had to unsheathe his weapon quickly. “For trying to kill an innocent lass.”
“Innocent? The wee bitch is far from innocent. She burned my dinner among many other offenses.” Raghnall didn’t reach for his weapon, but the fury in his eyes made Thane wonder how Tamsin had survived living with this arrogant fool. “She is togive me a son, and she can’t even do that. The one thing a woman is expected to do for her husband, and she’s failed.”
“Then why do you want her back if she displeases you so?”
“Because she belongs to me. I was told you brought her to your castle. I left her on the rock to think on her failures. I would have retrieved her.”
“Before the tide came up?” Thane drawled.
“Aye. Return her to me. I own her.”
Thane took a step closer, lowering his voice, one of his favorite tactics to get his point across. He found yelling to be a waste of time. “And did punching the lass before you left her in the middle of the loch to ‘think on her failures’ make you feel like a strong man? Did it make you feel powerful to beat someone who has no chance of fighting back?”
The fury increased in Garvie’s eyes, but he hadn’t moved. Thane watched for any twitch in the man’s demeanor that would give away his next step.
“She’s my wife, and I’ll do with her what I please. Return her to me.”
“So, you can beat her again? Do you think your dick will grow if you beat a woman? Is that why men with small penises like you beat women?”
Garvie lost it, reaching for his paltry weapon, but Thane was faster, taking a step back and withdrawing his sword, the point at Garvie’s throat before the man could raise his dagger.
Lazy arse that Garvie was, Thane was not going to kill him yet. “You live on Ulva?”
“I own Ulva.”
