Page 94 of The Lyon and the Unicorn
His father pulled him close and hissed in his ear.
“M-my chest. C-can’t br…” He drew in a shallow breath. “I-I—”
He broke off, coughing, shaking, and Marsaili let out another wail.
“G-get rid of that slut,” Da whispered.
Marsaili’s sobs continued and footsteps approached. Then Murdo’s father lifted his free arm and pointed toward the doorway.
“Witch!” he croaked. “Ye bring nothing but ill to the clan, cursed whore! What have ye done to me?”
Murdo turned to see Clara in the doorway. She stared at his father, her eyes filled with remorse.
Remorse…andguilt.
Elspeth and Joan appeared beside her.
“Elspeth,” Clara said, “send for a doctor—quickly!”
“Aye, ma’am.” The woman bobbed a curtsey and disappeared.
“What have ye done, Clara?” Murdo asked.
“What haveIdone?”
“Aye, that’s right, ye whore,” his father croaked. “Ye’ve brought about my death. So I curse ye! Ye’ll never know satisfaction. Ye’ve set out to ruin Clan McTavish with yer whoring and yer savagery, but I say to ye that ye’ll be cursedforever!”
Clara’s expression hardened. “It’s you who’s cursed, Lord McTavish. You’ll meet your retribution in hell for what you did to my mother.”
Murdo caught his breath at the fury in her voice.
“Clara,” he said, “ye shouldn’t—”
“Let her spill her poison,” his father said. “Let her show what she truly is.” He grasped Murdo’s nightshirt and pulled him close. “Son, ye must make yer father one final vow before he departs this earth.”
“Ye just need to rest, Da, then ye’ll be well.”
“Promise me, son!” the older man said through gritted teeth, fervor in his eyes.
A swell of sorrow thickened in Murdo’s gut. Despite how he’d treated Murdo’s ma—despite the beatings he’d given Murdo and his brother—the old man before him now was his father, the man who’d taught him the meaning of clan loyalty. His father’s harshness had made him strong, and he needed to be strong, for a weakling stood no chance of survival in the rugged Highland landscape. His da had taught him strength. And he’d taught him honor.
Strength and honor…
The essence of what it meant to be a McTavish.
Murdo blinked, and moisture stung his eyes.
“Aye, Da,” he said. I promise.”
“Rid yerself of that whore, lad. Honor the deathbed wish of yer da and find another wife. For if ye don’t, then the clan will be no more.”
“But James—”
“Yer brother’s no man!” his father snarled. “It’s up toye, son. Ye’re the future of the clan. But ye’ll have no future if ye remain wedded to that slut.”
“My wife’s…” Murdo began, and his father sat up with a flare of life.
“She’s awhore, son!” he cried. “Allwomen are whores—deceitful sluts who’ll ride any cock if it serves their purpose, then spin their lies to suit themselves. I curse them all!”
