near her ear. “Explanations are worse than bog lands, you step deeper into the muck with every misspent word.”
Breghan scowled up at him, not intending to say another word with her father staring them down.
But then he went and did it.
Another damned shrug, so casual and unconcerned.
“Afraid of what I might reveal?” she challenged with mock sweetness. “I knew you were a devil and a boar. Now I discover you are a coward too.”
“Woman,” Arran growled, his fingers folding over her arm in an iron grip.
At that same moment, her father grabbed her other arm with no less force and looked past her to Arran. “I need a private moment with my daughter.”
Breghan held her breath as the two men locked gazes.
Yesterday she’d feared only the Devil of Jedburgh, the Curse of Roxburgh.
Now she feared Arran Kerr, the man. He’d likely have her drawn and quartered for calling him a coward.
He has no right or power over me, she reassured herself, and he never will. Her father would never accept Arran’s humiliating proposal.
She glared first at Arran and then at her father. Neither man took notice. They were still staring at each other, but the tension between them had ebbed, as if some unspoken agreement had already been reached.
Her suspicions were confirmed a heartbeat later when her father’s fierce colour returned to normal.
“Breghan belongs to you, Kerr. I’ll no dispute that with the evidence presented. Now will you grant me a quiet word with my daughter?”
“As many words as you require.” Arran’s grip on her arm tightened fractionally before he released her. “Though I doubt any one of them will be quiet.”
Breghan came to life with a gasping shudder.
“I don’t belong to you and I never will,” she informed Arran, then turned to her father. “What do you mean by evidence presented?”
“I gather McAllen is referring to our night spent together,” Arran supplied amiably.
“We didn’t spend the—” Breghan cut the lie short and changed tactics. Reasoning with Arran was a hard-learned lesson in futility. “Nothing happened,” she told her father firmly.
“You didna kiss me?” Arran taunted.
“ You kissed me.” Breghan blinked hard and gritted her teeth. “Papa, it isn’t what you think.”
McAllen’s thick brows arrowed. “’Twould appear it is far more than I was thinking.”
“Explanations,” Arran tutted.
Breghan sent a glare his way. “Heed your own advice and keep quiet.”
A sharp tug on her arm jerked Breghan forward. She was happy to oblige as her father dragged her off between two rows of trestle tables. Before they reached the small charter room where her father did his business, she was matching his stride.
“Absolutely nothing happened,” she said as they entered, her confidence slightly restored now that Arran could no longer interrupt.
Her father kicked the door shut, folded his arms and gave her a long, gruelling look.
Succumbing to the pressure, Breghan blurted, “I loathe the man. Why would I let him touch me? He feels much the same. ‘I will never marry you.’” She mimicked his husky burr. “‘The act of begetting a child on you appals me.’ He doesn’t want a marriage trial, he wants revenge for some imagined grand scheme he thinks I played him. Arran Kerr humiliates our entire family with this preposterous suggestion of a handfasting.”
“You refused to be his wife,” McAllen pointed out, his blue eyes hard and narrowed.
Breghan backed away warily. “My behaviour has been atrocious. I’m deeply sorry for any trouble I’ve brought upon you.”
“I, too, am sorry. You decided your future when you ran yesterday and denied the Kerr today.”
Something hard hit behind her knees. Breghan glanced down to see she’d backed into a chair and sank into it thankfully as she mustered her dimming spirits. “You cannot mean to do this.”
“I already have.”
Her chin came up, but the disapproval stamped on her father’s
Breghan scowled up at him, not intending to say another word with her father staring them down.
But then he went and did it.
Another damned shrug, so casual and unconcerned.
“Afraid of what I might reveal?” she challenged with mock sweetness. “I knew you were a devil and a boar. Now I discover you are a coward too.”
“Woman,” Arran growled, his fingers folding over her arm in an iron grip.
At that same moment, her father grabbed her other arm with no less force and looked past her to Arran. “I need a private moment with my daughter.”
Breghan held her breath as the two men locked gazes.
Yesterday she’d feared only the Devil of Jedburgh, the Curse of Roxburgh.
Now she feared Arran Kerr, the man. He’d likely have her drawn and quartered for calling him a coward.
He has no right or power over me, she reassured herself, and he never will. Her father would never accept Arran’s humiliating proposal.
She glared first at Arran and then at her father. Neither man took notice. They were still staring at each other, but the tension between them had ebbed, as if some unspoken agreement had already been reached.
Her suspicions were confirmed a heartbeat later when her father’s fierce colour returned to normal.
“Breghan belongs to you, Kerr. I’ll no dispute that with the evidence presented. Now will you grant me a quiet word with my daughter?”
“As many words as you require.” Arran’s grip on her arm tightened fractionally before he released her. “Though I doubt any one of them will be quiet.”
Breghan came to life with a gasping shudder.
“I don’t belong to you and I never will,” she informed Arran, then turned to her father. “What do you mean by evidence presented?”
“I gather McAllen is referring to our night spent together,” Arran supplied amiably.
“We didn’t spend the—” Breghan cut the lie short and changed tactics. Reasoning with Arran was a hard-learned lesson in futility. “Nothing happened,” she told her father firmly.
“You didna kiss me?” Arran taunted.
“ You kissed me.” Breghan blinked hard and gritted her teeth. “Papa, it isn’t what you think.”
McAllen’s thick brows arrowed. “’Twould appear it is far more than I was thinking.”
“Explanations,” Arran tutted.
Breghan sent a glare his way. “Heed your own advice and keep quiet.”
A sharp tug on her arm jerked Breghan forward. She was happy to oblige as her father dragged her off between two rows of trestle tables. Before they reached the small charter room where her father did his business, she was matching his stride.
“Absolutely nothing happened,” she said as they entered, her confidence slightly restored now that Arran could no longer interrupt.
Her father kicked the door shut, folded his arms and gave her a long, gruelling look.
Succumbing to the pressure, Breghan blurted, “I loathe the man. Why would I let him touch me? He feels much the same. ‘I will never marry you.’” She mimicked his husky burr. “‘The act of begetting a child on you appals me.’ He doesn’t want a marriage trial, he wants revenge for some imagined grand scheme he thinks I played him. Arran Kerr humiliates our entire family with this preposterous suggestion of a handfasting.”
“You refused to be his wife,” McAllen pointed out, his blue eyes hard and narrowed.
Breghan backed away warily. “My behaviour has been atrocious. I’m deeply sorry for any trouble I’ve brought upon you.”
“I, too, am sorry. You decided your future when you ran yesterday and denied the Kerr today.”
Something hard hit behind her knees. Breghan glanced down to see she’d backed into a chair and sank into it thankfully as she mustered her dimming spirits. “You cannot mean to do this.”
“I already have.”
Her chin came up, but the disapproval stamped on her father’s
Similar Books
