A Hellion for the Highlander

Is someone actively tryin’ to sabotage me an’ Alexander both?

“What…what do you think Nathair and his Lairdship will do about it?” Cicilia asked hesitantly.

Graham looked uncomfortable as he shrugged. “Ye see, that’s where the warnin’ comes in. Everyone kens the Laird likes ye a lot, but that’s part o’ the problem. The rumor is that ye’re bein’…improper in exchange for favors.”

“That’s preposterous!” Jeanie snapped angrily. “Cicilia is—”

Graham held up his hands. “I’m nae accusin’ her!” he said hurriedly. “I’m just reportin’ the rumors. I dinnae ken for sure, but wi’ the economic an’ the status threat, there’s nae so many choices left for Me Laird to take.”

Cicilia wasn’t as outwardly angry as Jeanie, but her fists clenched by her sides when she spoke. “An’ what choices would they be?”

Graham chewed on his lip. “Well, first, he could try to cover up the whole…situation at yer farm, but I dinnae think that’ll work well now.”

I’m sorry, Daddy. This is me fault for lettin’ the slaughter an’ the fire happen under me watch.

“Second,” Graham continued, “An’ most likely, he could reacquisition yer farm.”

“What?” Cicilia asked, suddenly standing as straight and stiffly as she could.

If Graham noticed her sudden cold fury, he didn’t comment. Instead, he just kept talking. “I imagine they’ll either give it to someone else completely, or more likely, find a minor noble o’ some sort to take yer place until yer wee brother is of age. It’s his to inherit, after all.”

“It’s mine,” Cicilia said angrily. “Me faither meant it for me an’ me siblings both!”

The poor young soldier looked a little nervous now. “I’m just reportin’ the facts, Miss,” he said.

“I ken, I ken,” she said, trying to swallow the fury bubbling up in her throat. “Go off home wi’ ye. Thank ye kindly for the warnin’.”

The soldier didn’t need telling twice, and he hurried off without another word.

Black fury clouding her thoughts, Cicilia turned and began storming back towards the castle.

“Where are ye goin’?” Jeanie asked, worried.

“To talk to Alexander,” she snarled.

Alexander was eating bread and cheese in his study when she barged in. He’d skipped lunch to go over some ways out of this horrible quandary that Nathair reported. He could not tolerate this kind of unrest, not with his rule and not towards Cicilia. He didn’t know how he was going to solve it, but whatever action he took must be quick and decisive.

From the look of fury on Cicilia’s face when she slammed open the door, he guessed she’d heard the rumors. He got to his feet, ready to placate her and assure her they’d do everything they could to smooth this over.

“Cicilia,” he started calmly.

“Dinnae ye Cicilia me!” she snarled, and it was only then, to his shock, that Alexander realized that fury was directed at him. “How dare ye talk to me like we’re friends? How dare ye, when ye’ve been goin’ behind me back this whole time?”

Alexander froze, his mouth working soundlessly, and his brain disengaged. He had no idea what she was talking about, and so surprised was he by the accusation that he didn’t even know for sure how to answer.

“Tell me, what we’ve been doin’—has it just been to soften me up?” she shrieked, angry tears in her eyes. “Did ye think if ye tupped me like a docile ewe a few times, I’d be willin’ to just cave in to whatever ye had to say? Well, ye need nae worry because I can assure ye nae such thing will be happenin’ ever again!”

That hurt like an arrow directly to the heart.

Is that what she thinks o’ what we’ve been doin’? Was there nae meanin’ to her?

He tried to talk again, tried to force himself to work out what was going on, but her rant continued to cascade.

“To think, I thought ye were a good man! I thought ye cared about me, about me siblings…but the second things go awry, yer precious Lairdship is the only thing that matters, aye?” She stomped her feet in fury. “At least yer accomptant was honest about his disrespect. Ye just led me along until I was in such a place as ye could steal everythin’ away from me! Maybe ye’re even the one spreadin’ these thrice-damned rumors. I bet ye thought I’d be compliant, an’—”

“Cicilia. Quiet yer tongue, now,” he growled, anger washing over him and finally propelling the air from his lungs.

She blinked at the harshness of his words. Even though she’d just been yelling at him, she had the audacity to act like he’d done something wrong by speaking so harshly.