Page 91 of The Lyon and the Unicorn
“Youwitch!” a voice said, and Clara cursed as she saw James standing nearby. “Ye wish ye’d married elsewhere?Iwish ye’d married elsewhere. Ye’ve brought nothing but shame on the McTavishes. If my brother won’t punish ye, then I’ll—”
“No, James,” a quiet voice said, and Duncan appeared at his side. “Striking the lass won’t serve any purpose. What’s done is done. Go help yer brother with the laird. He needs ye.”
“Come along, Shona,” Lady McCallum said. “Ye’ve nothing to gain from speaking to that Sassenach.”
Shona squeezed Clara’s hand then followed her parents out of the hall, leaving Clara alone with Duncan.
She curled her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms to suppress the sob swelling in her throat.
The ghillie placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Och, lass, what were yethinking?”
His gentle touch threatened to breach her defenses.
“I-I thought I was doing the right thing, Duncan,” she said, her voice wavering.
“What ye did was wrong.”
“How so?” she said. “I saw three unhappy souls who each want to be with the one they love. What’s wrong about wanting to be with the one you love? Isn’t it a greater sin to force lovers apart, make them miserable? And for what? For honor? How old is Shona McCallum? Sixteen? Where’s the honor in forcing her to marry a man she can never love, and who’ll never love her? As for James…”
She met the ghillie’s gaze.
“I didn’t only do it for Shona,” she said. “I did it for you—you’re my only friend here.”
“Och, lass, Murdo cares for ye also, even if ye refuse to see it.”
“You’re the only one who understands me—an outsider, a misfit…”
She caught her breath on a sob, and the ghillie drew her into his arms.
“Daft lass,” he whispered. “Ye may have had good intentions, but ye’ll find that honor is something the McTavish clan values. You see, it’s—”
“Oh, Iknow,” she said with a huff. “‘Strength and honor’ is the family motto. The Mountain of Honor is an ever-present monolith looking over the castle. You say that your lives are governed by honor, but none of you understand its true meaning.”
“What doyethink honor is, lass?”
“It’s doing what you know to be right, not what furthers your family name or the purity of the ancestral line. Honor isn’t obeying the orders dictated by a parent, or a husband. Sometimesdisobeyingis the honorable thing to do.”
“And ye’d know all about that,” a deep voice said.
Clara’s stomach fluttered in apprehension as the ghillie stiffened and withdrew his arms.
Murdo stood in the doorway, his eyes dark with anger.
“H-husband, I was just—”
He raised his hand. “I know what ye werejustdoing. I’m here to ask ye to come to bed.”
How dare he show anger after what he’d done! And how dare he order her to his bed as if she were nothing more than a body to service his needs?
She folded her arms. “No. I’m in no mood for a beating.”
His expression hardened and he crossed the hall, his boots clomping on the floor.
“Whatdid ye say?”
“You heard,” she snarled. “If you’re going to beat me, then do it here, in front of Duncan, not behind the bedchamber door like a sniveling coward!”
