Page 21 of The Anguish of the Scottish Lairds (Clans of Mull #3)

Eva

Eva stood back listening to the two elders argue, and she had no idea what to do. She’d come down the stairs when Dermot Rankin had come storming in, yelling for her mother. And her mother hadn’t backed down one bit.

In fact, her mother helped her to stand a wee bit straighter, so much so that she didn’t wish to interrupt.

“How dare you insult me and my son, Rut MacVey. Your husband is rolling in his grave over this slight, and you know it,” Dermot said, striding across the hall until he stood toe to toe with her mother.

“How dare you walk into my home and talk to me like that, you old coot. Take yourself back out and enter with a bit of decorum. You’ll not yell at me like that.”

“The hell I won’t. You let your daughter refuse to marry my son? Did you approve of her decision too?”

Eva glanced over as the door opened, and Sloan stepped inside. She’d never been so glad to see anyone. Hurrying around the outside of the hall, she was nearly in tears when she reached him, so she did the only thing she could think of. She launched herself into his arms. “Sloan, I don’t know what to do. Help me.” He set something down in a chair, then wrapped his arms around her.

Lennox came in behind Sloan, his eyes widening when he saw his friend and sister locked in a warm embrace. Sloan set Eva down but kept his hand at her back as if to protect her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll end this now.”

But Lennox stopped Sloan. “Nay, let them have it out. It’s time.”

Rut said in a calm, even tone, “She wasn’t refusing, but delaying, and since when does your son have to have her brother ask for him? Did you think that mayhap she was waiting for Sloan to come and ask her appropriately? Had that thought ever crossed your old, daft mind, Dermot?”

“That’s the way it used to be done, and you know it. There’s naught wrong with the old ways. The chieftains made the matches, based on what was best for the clans, just like yours and mine were made.”

“Mayhap I didn’t like it happening that way. I wished to choose my own husband. I don’t like someone telling me what to do.” She crossed her arms and swayed her skirts enough to hit Dermot across the legs, an intentional movement. Eva knew her mother’s ways well.

“You’ve always been like that, Rut MacVey. You gave your husband gray hairs because you speak your mind too much. Women should sit demurely by the fire and do their needlework.”

Rut turned to all the servants who stood by watching and shouted, “Get out. All of you. Now.” The scurrying nearly set Eva into gales of laughter.

Eva took two steps, but Rut pointed at her and said, “You do not move, daughter, because this man will apologize to you, or I’ll spit in his face before I put my fist in it. Sit demurely by the fire. The shite of all the birds on the isle should fall on your head on your way back, Dermot Rankin. How dare you come in here, insult me, insult my daughter after she’s barely recovered from the attack. Can’t you see the bruises on her face and neck, you old coot? The whole world isn’t about you.”

Eva jumped and Sloan stepped in front of her, his hand guiding her behind him.

“Sloan, step aside. I wish to see that lass for myself.”

“Da, her name is Eva, not ‘that lass.’” Then Sloan glared at Lennox and said, “We need to end this now.”

Lennox made his way toward his mother while Sloan moved toward his father. “Da, you need to apologize to Lady MacVey, and I’ll take you home. You’ll leave Eva out of this.”

But his father, as stubborn as he was, pushed Sloan aside so he could stare at Eva. His entire countenance changed, and he blushed. “Who did that to you, lass?” Then he looked at his son. “Did you know that happened? You need to settle the score for your betrothed, Sloan. Get your sharpest sword, and I’ll go with you. Who dared to touch your betrothed?”

“Da, stop! She’s not my betrothed.” His voice came out so loud that everyone stared at him. “Leave her be.”

Lennox said, “Mother, Dermot, and Sloan. In my solar now.”

Dermot turned to disagree with him, but Lennox said, “Don’t argue with me, old man. You’ve said enough to my mother and my sister.”

Dermot grumbled all the way over to the solar, casting an occasional glare at Rut MacVey. “My Ailis would never speak the way you do to a chieftain, Rut. And your son should respect his elders.”

Her mother, always quick with her tongue, said, “Your Ailis was one of the sweetest women I ever knew. You didn’t deserve her. And she wouldn’t have allowed you to do what you just did to my innocent daughter.”

Dermot hung his head. “Nay, I’ll not argue that one.”

Lennox stood outside and said to Eva, “I’d like you to sit in the back. I will not ask you to speak, lass.”

Eva nodded, doing her best to hold her tears as she found a chair behind the others. The entire clan would be talking about this on the morrow. All her fault. She glanced over at Sloan, seeing him much differently from how she’d ever seen him before.

They’d grown up together but sitting in the solar, looking at the two chieftains standing behind the desk while the two elders sat down, Lennox in his best green plaid and Sloan in his fine-looking purple plaid, they looked so mature, so adult.

They looked like chieftains. Both of them.

And Sloan was far more handsome than she remembered. His skin carried the bronze color from the sun, nearly the same shade as his hair that hit his collar just so. His chiseled jaw was locked right now, if she were to guess, because he was angry with his father. And when she thought of how he’d saved her from the brute in the stables, she nearly teared up.

“Da, you need to apologize to everyone here. You insulted Lennox’s mother and sister, yelled at Lady MacVey, and embarrassed Eva. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Dermot got up to face Eva and said, “I do owe you an apology, Eva. My son didn’t inform me of your attack. Who did it?”

Lennox said, “Dermot, we don’t know who the man was, or he wouldn’t have any skin on his back now, but your son stopped it and beat him silly before he got away.”

He turned toward the front. “Why did you let him get away, Sloan?”

Eva finally stood. “Because he had to catch me when I passed out, or I would have hit my head and been much worse.”

Lennox said, “I saw what Sloan did to the man, and I watched my sister nearly hit the ground, but your son saved her from much worse. I couldn’t reach her in time because the fool dragged her into the back of a stall in the stable. You should be proud of Sloan for knowing enough to follow him and stop his attack. He did what he could.”

Dermot looked at his son and reached for his hand, staring at the bruised and cut knuckles. “That’s how you got those wounds. I wondered. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sloan said, “Truly, you need to ask me that, Da?”

The old man nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Her reputation. Wise. You’re smarter than I give you credit for sometimes, Sloan. I’d like to see the bastard’s face… Oh … sorry, my ladies.”

“Don’t be. He was a bastard to dare touch my daughter,” Rut said. “He’ll get his due before we’re done.”

“Rut, forgive me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy seeing your daughter attacked. But you know I think they’d suit.”

“That’s our decision, Da, not yours,” Sloan said. “Eva’s and mine.”

The old man sighed and moved over to the door. “Forgive me, MacVey. I’ll take my leave now.”