Highland Hellion (Highland Weddings #3)(77)

It would have been wiser to keep her mouth shut, but the look on Anne’s face wouldn’t let her. Katherine refused to be so fearful of life. If that meant she died as a witch for it, so be it.

“I find it very difficult to believe that a spineless woman gave you a son as fierce as Rolfe.”

William opened his mouth the moment she started to speak, clearly intending to cut her off, but her words distracted him.

“Me wife was a strong woman. Strength begets strength,” he declared, to the approval of his clan members.

“And yet,” Katherine pointed at Anne, who was watching them with red-rimmed eyes as she wept in fear, “you have brought him a woman who cringes over another woman being insulted.”

Attention turned toward Anne, who stiffened and held her breath.

“Get out of me sight, witch!” William insisted.

“She is me wife,” Rolfe stated firmly.

“I want her out of me sight,” William declared. “This is a discussion for men. All of ye, be gone!”

It was Ceit who came forward and grasped Katherine’s wrist. The Head of House offered her a kindly warning look before she tugged on the wrist.

Leaving the room was the last thing Katherine wanted to do, but Rolfe stood there, firmly facing his father, and she knew it was the only way the matter could be resolved.

But do you want it resolved?

Katherine admitted that she was torn. Marcus had been her mentor for a long time, and she trusted him. His advice had always been sage, and it had filled her with hope the day before. That confidence was struggling to stand steady in the face of William McTavish’s hate.

Strangely enough, Anne’s stricken form was what restored Katherine’s balance. Ceit made it clear that she was of the same mind the moment they made it into the kitchens.

“Thank Christ we’ll no’ be having that spineless creature as mistress,” the Head of House said. The activity in the kitchens slowed in response. Ceit propped her hands on her ample hips and stared at her staff. “Aye, ye all heard me right. And I’ll call ye lazy if any of ye try to convince me ye’d prefer that little simpering miss. The only reason would be because ye know ye can spend half yer day napping because she does nae have the spine to reprimand ye.”

There was a round of laughter before work resumed. Ceit smiled at Katherine. “Welcome, mistress.”

They heard William shouting in the hall and Rolfe answering him almost as loudly.

“A welcome that will be spoken of for years to come,” Katherine replied, to the delight of the Head of House.

Ceit offered her a merry smile, while her eyes sparkled with mischief. “It will, at that.”

There was comfort in Ceit’s welcome. Katherine didn’t want to admit just how desperately she needed a friendly face.

Or how much she feared William McTavish would have his way.

Hers would be far from the first marriage annulled in spite of a soiled sheet being flown. William would hardly spare any compassion for her loss of virtue over it. Marcus might raise an objection, but Marcus was not laird of the MacPhersons. Shamus MacPherson was a master at preserving peace at all costs.

She wouldn’t expect Shamus to threaten to go to war over her reputation being shredded. It would be considered her due for riding out and away from the protection of the clan.

No, the best she might hope for was a place with the MacPhersons. It was a fine place, too, one many would be content with.

Frustration claimed her at last as she recalled that Rolfe was displeased with her, too. It was likely he was seeing the error of his ways now, realizing she was simply more trouble than she was worth.

*

“’Tis a fine way ye repay me,” William growled. “Wedding an English girl—and no’ just that, but she has nae a single piece of silver to her name.”

“She is me choice, Father.”

William snorted. “Yer choice? Well, I say change yer bloody mind. Ye’ve had her now, so set yer thinking to wedding for the right reasons.”

“It is done.”

“And I say it is nae.” William slapped the tabletop. “No Englishwoman is ever going to be lady of this keep.”

There was a round of agreement from some of the retainers.

William was nodding in agreement with them when there was a sound of flesh meeting flesh. A man went sprawling, and another one had risen to come to his friend’s aid. William looked past his son to where Adwin was making it clear he’d take on more men if they dared speak up.

“What in the devil has gotten into ye, Adwin?”

The captain turned and tugged on his cap. “The lass did more than her share to make sure yer son came back from the dungeon Morton put him in.” The captain turned to look at the other retainers. “So I will no’ be hearing any cursing of her name.”

William opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to absorb what Adwin had said. He wasn’t alone, either. All of the men who had ridden in with Rolfe stood there, lending themselves to the stand Adwin was taking.

William pointed at Adwin. “Ye will no’ be telling me what to say.”

“Since you are me laird”—Adwin reached up and tugged on his bonnet—“I will no’.” He turned and glanced behind him. “But the rest of ye will know the lass has earned me respect.”