“You’re warning me that you don’t trust me and intend to keep a close watch on me.”
“At all times.”
“Even when your brother sleeps beside me,” she asked bluntly.
“That arrangement will change starting now,” he informed her. “There is a small cottage beside the keep. It will be your home while you are here and a guard will be close by.”
“This is not my home,” she said with a cutting curtness. She had been a stupid fool to think that anything would ever come of loving Ronan.
“And it would be wise for you to remember that.”
Carissa stood. “Be careful, Cavan. Hate is a powerful weapon that can easily destroy.”
“I’m sure you know that better than anyone.”
“More than you’ll ever know,” she said, and turned toward the stairs, wishing she could return to Ronan and yet knowing…
“The cottage waits for you,” Cavan said. “I will have one of my warriors escort you there.”
She simply nodded, knowing it would be senseless to argue with him. He was the laird and would have his way, though she wondered over Ronan’s reaction when he discovered what his brother had done.
“You what?”
Ronan’s shout had everyone in the great hall stopping and glancing at the closed solar door.
“The choice of who I sleep with is mine,” Ronan said with a slap to his chest.
“When your choice of sleeping partners affects this clan, then it becomes my choice,” Cavan said, his hands splayed flat on his desk as he leaned across it to glare at his brother. “If I allow this to continue between you and Carissa, then she will be with child for certain in no time. And then she will never answer for her crimes.”
Ronan wanted to lash out at his brother, but he was right. He didn’t want to keep his hands off Carissa. He ached to make love to her again.
“Did you ever stop to think that this was her plan all along, that if she became pregnant with your child, she would be immune to punishment?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Ronan said. “I want time with her so that I may finally find the truth.”
“Coupling with her isn’t going to help you find it.”
“No, but it sure in hell feels good.”
Both brothers suddenly grinned and laughed.
“I don’t do this to hurt you,” Cavan said.
“I know that,” Ronan said, rubbing his chin in frustration. “And if part of me wasn’t blind to Carissa, I would have realized the same thing.”
“It cannot be denied that she is a beauty, but beauty bewitches, so be very careful,” Cavan warned.
Ronan nodded.
Cavan walked around his desk and looked his brother up and down. “Finally, you’re dressed like a Highlander. Welcome home.”
The guard had knocked on Carissa’s door early and instructed her that he was there to escort her to the keep for the morning meal. She was tired and not at all hungry, but she knew she couldn’t refuse. After all, she was a prisoner of the Sinclares.
She donned her cloak and wondered if Ronan had brought along the meager belongings she had left behind in the cottage at the village Black in her haste to help Dykar. She needed a good washing and change of garments. And she prayed that he had thought to bring them with him.
The day was gray and the air biting cold as she walked the few feet to the keep. A sharp, icy wind whipped her through the open door, and when she turned and got her bearings, the sight near stole her breathe.
Ronan stood dressed in the Sinclare plaid, dark green and black. A white linen shirt lay beneath the strip of plaid that crossed his impressive chest, and black winter boots trimmed with fur and secured with leather strips crisscrossed his thick calves and shins. His long dark brown hair shone as if it had been washed. And she knew then that Ronan had finally returned home.
He was a Highlander.
She suddenly felt more a barbarian than ever. And though she wished she could have improved her own appearance, she walked with the dignity her father had forever demanded of her.
She was disappointed when it was Zia who rushed to greet her. She had expected Ronan to be the first to welcome her, and when he failed to do so, she knew that her situation had changed. And she had no doubt Cavan had been the cause.
“How are you feeling?” Zia asked.
“I am fine,” she said.
“Good. I worried that perhaps your head might continue to pain you,” Zia said, walking her to the table.
“No pain,” Carissa said.
Ronan said nothing while Zia proceeded to introduce Carissa to those she was not familiar with.
A lovely woman with dark hair and a generous smile was first.
“This is Honora, Cavan’s wife,” Zia said.