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Tammus eyed him steadily, struggling to imagine Davina capable of what MacLeod claimed. “You’re telling me Davina did this to you? Unprovoked?”

“Aye, she did!” MacLeod snapped. “I came tae Stewart Glen tae conduct business, as I always have. Yer niece’s hoosband nowhere tae be found, just like the last two visits. But this time, yer niece decided tae toss me oot like I was nothin’! Broke me nose, left me bleedin’ in the dirt like a mangy cur.”

Tammus folded his arms, his tone measured. “Davina is many things, MacLeod, but cruel or reckless is neither of them. Whatexactly happened?”

MacLeod’s eyes flicked away, just for a second. “She’s gone mad, I tell ye. Not fit tae run a household on her own. She told me I wasnae welcome—despite the merchant contract her father signed with me years ago! She’s grown too bold, thinkin’ herself above the law now that her husband’s always away. There’s nay a man there tae temper her wild streak.”

Tammus’s jaw ticked, but he kept his voice even. “That still doesn’t explain why she’d attack you.”

MacLeod bristled. “I asked tae stay the night, as I’ve done before. She refused—flat out. Said I was nay welcome under her roof. I reminded her of the contract, told her it wasnae her place tae turn me away.” He pointed a crooked finger at his bruises. “And what does she do? She breaks me nose and smashes a vase o’er me ‘ead! Next thing I ken, I’m wakin’ up at the inn wi’ a bleedin’billfor the room.”

Tammus said nothing, his silence stretching as he studied the man before him. He knew Davina’s fire, but he also knew her fairness. Something in MacLeod’s tale reeked like sour milk. Still, Fergus MacLeod was not a man to provoke lightly—especially if there was even a grain of truth in his account.

“She’s out o’ control, Tammus. I ken ‘tis nay my place tae say, but if ye ask me, she’s in sore need o’ discipline.”

Tammus’s expression darkened. “If you’ve a grievance, MacLeod, I suggest you take it up with her husband. Davina is no longer my ward.”

MacLeod scoffed. “Her hoosband? Did ye not hear me? The man’s ne’er anywhere tae be found! If he cannae be bothered tae look after his wife, then that leaves the responsibility taeyou, does it not?”

Tammus’s mouth thinned. He hated the implication—but theman wasn’t entirely wrong. As the senior member of their family, responsibility did fall to him when Davina’s husband was absent.

MacLeod leaned in. “I’ll nay leave this unresolved, Tammus. She owes me compensation—fer the inn I had tae stay at, fer the humiliation, and fer this.” He jabbed a finger toward his battered face. “If ye willnae see tae it, I’ll take it tae the courts.”

Tammus’s jaw flexed. He reached into his desk and retrieved a small sack of coin, tossing it down without ceremony. “Take this. It’ll cover your expenses…and compensation.”

MacLeod snatched the bag, the weight of it bringing a glint to his eye. “Aye, this’ll do…for now. If ye doon’t get that woman under control, ye’ll be hearin’ from me again.”

He turned to go, then paused at the door. “Ye’d do well tae put yer niece in her place, Tammus. Nay spare the rod, if ye take ma meanin’.”

Tammus nodded.

When the door finally closed, he sank back into his chair, shoulders heavy. He didn’t trust MacLeod’s tale—not fully—but somethinghadhappened at Stewart Glen.

And Davina wasn’t one to raise her hand lightly.

There was more to this than MacLeod let on.

And then there was the matter of her husband. The man’s absence was becoming harder to ignore. Tammus had been willing to let Davina manage her own affairs, given her strength and capable hands, but this latest incident could not be swept aside.

If MacLeod stirred up trouble, it wouldn’t just stain Davina’s name—it would tarnish the family’s as well. And no matter how distanced he kept his business from Lilias’s late husband, scandal had a way of seeping through the cracks.

He grumbled and rang the bell on his desk.

The housekeeper appeared moments later.

“Have the steward pack me a satchel,” he said. “I’m leaving for Stewart Glen within the hour.”

“Aye, my lord.” She offered a quick curtsy and disappeared down the corridor.

Left alone, Tammus stared out the window. The autumn sky hung low and gray.

As much as he loathed to make the trip, he had to get to the bottom of whatever Davina’s husband was—or wasn’t—doing.

∞∞∞

The sun had dipped below the horizon, its fiery hues now faded into the hush of twilight as Davina arrived at the last of the shepherd’s cottages. A faint chill clung to the air, the kind that whispered of frost-heavy mornings to come. She adjusted the satchel slung over her shoulder, tugged her cloak tight against the breeze, and knocked on the weathered wooden door.

It opened almost at once, revealing Colin MacKinnon—broad-shouldered, stone-faced, and taller than most. His thick beard was peppered with gray, and his ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of her.