“Why have ye taken wee Kenneth, Father?” she cried out.
Rory dropped his head onto his arms on the table.
Jesu!This was Grant’s daughter, the lass he was supposed to marry.
***
Sybil stood frozen, transfixed by the young woman’s startling appearance. She looked like a distraught Viking princess, tall and striking and uncontrolled. The violence of her emotions was evident in her red-rimmed eyes, dirt-smudged face, and unruly tangle of blond hair.
“Why are ye here, Daughter,” the Grant chieftain ground out, “and not at home where ye ought to be?”
“As soon as I found out ye took him,” she said between gasps for breath, “I had to come.”
“By all that is holy,” Grant shouted, “tell me, Flora Grant, that ye did not ride all the way here by yourself?”
“I did,” his daughter said.
From the state she was in, she had ridden hard to get here.
“Ye bring shame upon me and our clan.” Her father’s face was growing dangerously purple. “Wait for me outside in the courtyard.”
“I must know why ye brought Kenneth here,” the lass persisted, clenching her hands. “I’ll not let ye leave himhere with no one to protect him.”
God help her, was this Kenneth’s mother? And Rory’s lover? Sybil felt faint.
There was talk of a marriage between me and a chieftain’s daughter.The pieces fell together, like blocks of stone. No wonder Grant was angry upon learning that Sybil was Rory’s wife. This lass was the chieftain’s daughter that Rory was meant to marry.
The woman hewouldhave married, if he’d known his marriage contract with Sybil was false.
Sybil had managed to keep her composure through the shock of learning he’d kept the existence of his son and heir from her. But this was too much. And yet she remained at the bottom of the stairs, unable to leave until she heard the rest.
“Why would the lad need protection in the MacKenzie castle?” Rory’s voice was low and dangerous, and his eye twitched. “Are ye suggesting I would harm a bairn?”
“Ye don’t want him,” the lass said, “or ye would have claimed him.”
“I haven’t claimed him,” Rory said between clenched teeth, “because I don’t believe he’s mine.”
How could Rory say that to the mother of his child? And in front of the child, for God’s sake. Sybil’s gaze caught on Kenneth. The poor boy was struggling against one of his uncles, who was preventing him from running to his mother.
“How dare ye insult my dead daughter!” the Grant chieftain roared.
Dead daughter?Sybil had no time to absorb this information.
Swords were about to be drawn. Sybil had to stop this before blood was spilled.
***
Too late, Rory realized that he’d let his temper get away from him and gravely offended his guest. He needed to make amends with the Grants and keep them as allies, not cross swords with their chieftain.
“Stop this at once!” Sybil shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. “Can’t ye see you’re frightening young Kenneth? And if there’s to be a fight, it willnotbe inside my hall.”
Before they recovered from their shock at her bold words, she crossed the hall to the high table and pointed at Grant’s son, who was holding the lad.
“Release him, please,” she told the uncle, and he complied.
She took the lad’s hand and led him to Grant’s daughter, who threw her arms around him. The only sound in the room was the lass’s weeping, while the men who had been on the verge of fighting all stared at the three of them.
When the lass finally released the boy, Sybil said something to her. The two women then whispered back and forth, nodding. Then, to Rory’s amazement, Grant’s daughter embraced Sybil like a long-lost sister.