“I must speak with Ross,” he said to his cousin. “Stay with Mistress Faye, aye?”
Moiré looked at Faye, and the confusion in her gaze deepened, but she nodded.
“This is my cousin, Moiré,” Ewan said. “Ye can listen all ye like but stay here. Away from them.”
When Faye opened her mouth to protest, he took her slender shoulders in his hands. “Stay here.”
She remained quiet, and a shiver ran through her, reminding him of how cold she’d been. He drew off his cloak and draped it over her shoulders.
She tugged it more tightly around her and gave a nod. He wasn’t sure if it was in compliance or thanks, but she offered no further protest.
Assured she would remain hidden while he handled the situation, he left her in the corridor and pushed through the door leading to the Great Hall. He secured it closed behind him and made his way to the dais where Ross and several of his men waited.
“Where is my granddaughter?” Ross demanded with a scowl as he pushed Monroe to Ewan’s side.
Ewan narrowed his eyes at the older man. “I’ll no’ marry a lass being forced to wed me. Especially no’ one who has been held captive and abducted from her home.”
“Berwick is mine.” Ross’s shout rang off the walls around him, and his face turned a dark shade of red. “If ye refuse to wed her, I’ll attack yer people until every last one of them is dead.”
The threat sent a chill scraping down Ewan’s spine. Regardless, he folded his arms over his chest and scoffed. “We’ve endured yer fighting for years. We’ll do so again now.”
“Give her to me,” Ross demanded.
“So ye can sell her into another marriage?” Ewan widened his stance. “Nay.”
Ross took several menacing steps forward, his hand on the hilt of his blade as though he meant to draw it free and slay Ewan where he stood. Still, Ewan held his ground and met the icy glare of the older chieftain.
Ewan had anticipated more threats, mayhap even an attempt at gutting him. He had not expected a shrewd expression to cross Ross’s face or the question that followed. “What if there was another option?”
4
Faye leaned against the crack in the door. Her ear ached from pressing it so firmly to the wood, but her grandfather’s words had become difficult to discern.
Ewan’s cousin stood at her side, in deep concentration as she also tried to listen. She was a pretty young woman with light brown hair and dark eyes, mayhap older than Faye, though only slightly.
No doubt, she was worried about what she heard. Faye would be if she were of the Sutherland clan.
Ross had threatened war. He intended to kill them all, and still, the Sutherland chieftain had stood his ground. Protecting Faye. Just as he’d promised.
Her chest squeezed. Could she have so many deaths on her conscience simply because she refused to wed a man who was willing to risk his people to return her to her home?
She gritted her teeth, determined to remain as stoic as Sutherland.
“What other option?” Sutherland asked, his voice wary.
“A more biddable lass,” Ross said. “Another of my granddaughters.”
Faye’s blood chilled. Even the heavy cloak Sutherland had draped over her shoulders could not quell the coldness frosting in her veins.
“I’ll no’ marry anyone ye force my way.” Sutherland’s reply was resolute. Heroic.
“This one is a good lass,” Ross continued. “She’ll do as she’s told and is as bonny as her sister, but with hair dark as peat.”
Clara.
Nay.
“I told ye,” Sutherland said. “I’ll no—”
“Nay.” Faye pushed out into the Great Hall before she could stop herself. Before fear drowned out the last of her bravado. “I’ll marry him.”
Sutherland frowned at her, but her grandfather grinned. “I knew that would lure ye out.” He chuckled. “But make no mistake, I’ll take that sister of yers for a marriage if ye manage to worm yer way out of this.”
“Promise me that ye’ll leave my family be.” A storm of rage and sorrow swept through her and nearly made her voice quaver. “No more marriages, no more abductions. Ye leave them be.”
Her grandfather stared at her as if she were a child attempting to rebuke him. “Ye’re no’ in a position—”
“I’m not done.” Faye wanted nothing more than to lower her gaze from the steely cut of his glare but refused to give him the satisfaction. She would win this battle.
After all, he’d shared his weakness. Berwick. And she was the key to obtaining his greatest desire.
“This marriage will stop all fighting between the Ross and Sutherland clans.” She looked between the two men. “There will be peace.”
Her grandfather sputtered his disbelief and looked to Sutherland as if seeking confirmation to what Faye had demanded. She nodded at the man she would marry, letting him know her mind was set.
“Give the lass what she wants,” he said solemnly. “And I’ll wed her.”
Ross studied them both as the options weighed and counterbalanced against one another in his mind. “The wedding will take place now,” he said finally. “Followed by a bedding ceremony.”
“A wedding with no bedding ceremony,” Faye countered before Sutherland could speak.
Her grandfather turned his green eyes on her. They weren’t soft with tenderness like her mother’s, but hard and unyielding, like chips of emeralds. “A bedding ceremony as well to verify the marriage canna be annulled. That, or I walk from these doors and send my men in two directions. One here to kill every Sutherland they can find, and another down to Castleton to bring me the rest of yer sisters.”
“Enough,” Sutherland snarled. “Ye’re mad.”
“Aye.” Ross turned a wide-eyed gaze to Sutherland. “And I’ll no’ be duped by a false marriage.”
“Fine,” Faye said abruptly. It didn’t matter if people saw her in her chemise.
But despite her attempt at bravery, a hum of nervousness vibrated within her.
Ross gave a low growl of irritation but finally held out his hand. Sutherland clasped forearms with
