Page 3 of Highland Storm

The Earl flicked a glance toward Lianae. “Neither is your sister once she opens her mouth.”

Gritting her teeth, a memento of her own brief time alone with the Earl moments before, Lianae lifted a hand to the bruise on her cheek, urging Lulach to acknowledge it, but her brother refused to look her way again.

Lianae's heart wrenched. Oh, Lulach, she wanted to ask, where has your courage gone? Where now your scruples and foresight?

“I will make certain she understands her duty.”

The Earl flicked Lianae another, more embittered glance. “See that you do.”

“Aye, my lord… and if you would but give us a moment alone?”

His face a mask of boredom, the Earl sighed, but he raked his chair back from the table. He stood, acknowledging Lianae with another ill-tempered glance, and there in his gaze she spied something cold and foreboding. He was warning her without words, and she already knew what dangers that entailed. Had her sister angered him somehow? They might never know what happened in that room. Pressing a hand against her cheek, Lianae shuddered over the images that accosted her. Her sister’s lips and skin had been as blue as the sapphire gown she’d worn to take her vows. And still Lulach would sell her for—what?

Despair choked away her breath, along with any remaining protests.

Her brother stood, and Lianae made to do so as well—not out of deference, but to leave. Once again, the Earl’s guard pushed her down into the chair, biting his strong fingers into the hollow beneath her shoulder, until her mouth parted for a cry of pain she refused to voice—at least not in front of these monsters.

Outliers! Murderers!

The Earl of Moray turned from the table, and only then did his bootlicker release Lianae’s shoulder and move away, falling in step behind his master like the dog he appeared to be. Make no mistake, Lianae would not marry the Earl, but she recognized the stubborn set of her brother’s jaw and she knew he would not relent. It would serve no one to voice another protest. Nay, she must find another way…

Lulach waited until the Earl and his men were gone from the hall before turning to address her. “Lianae,” he said quietly. “Ye must learn to hold your tongue. If ye would but mind yourself, ye could inherit much, my sister.”

Lianae’s fingers balled so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.

Once upon a time, she had adored Lulach for his gentle nature. This moment, his gentility seemed more a weakness, and the slender, slightly downturned chin, a tell. The hall doors closed, one by one, and the heavy raucous sound ricocheted off the hallhouse ceiling. To her mind, it had the sound of a cell door.

“I dinna wish to marry that usurper,” Lianae said quietly.

Her brother sighed. “Lianae, he won his place the same way the men of Moray all once did, by the grace of his sword.”

“Nay,” Lianae argued. “He was appointed by King David, who is nae better than an outlier himself. He was raised under Henry’s tutelage. All these men were groomed to take our place, and ye give them time and they will quash every last Morayman and woman from this land.”

“He is Duncan’s heir and bears the blood of kings,” Lulach reminded her.

“On his hands!” Lianae said in outrage.

“Ach, Lianae. Be fair. His father was our king for a time.”

“Ach, yoursel’!” Lianae said, looking at her brother incredulously. “Dinna ye see, Lulach? King Duncan was murdered by his own brother, and if the rumors be true, William would collude with David even despite this fact! That should tell ye all ye need to know about the mon’s character. He would sell himself so easily to his father’s murderers. At any rate, he’s but a bastard and his mother is an outlier as well. They are all Henry’s minions—every one!”

Lulach frowned. “’Tis long past time to make our peace, sister. Óengus is dead⁠—”

Lianae gave a raw little laugh. “No one knows this better than Elspeth!” Tears pooled in her eyes at the images that accosted her anew. Her sister’s rent dress, her eyes open and bulging. Fitz Duncan not even had the decency to close her lovely amber eyes. The memory threatened to undermine Lianae’s composure in a way that not even the last hour’s discussion had managed to do so.

Her brother ignored her tears. “Our brothers, dead…”

“Nay!”

She and Lulach shared a heated look, and Lianae tried to gauge what he knew. Neither Ewen nor Graeme had been spied for many, many months, but Lianae knew they must be out there, biding their time, waiting for the right opportunity. Óengus had taught them well.

“Dinna ye ken, Lianae? We canna fight any longer—not if we are meant to survive.”

And there it is.

Her brother’s expression was full of fear, and Lianae’s heart wrenched for the man he could have been. She knew this was not entirely his wish, to see her wed to a monster. But Lulach wasn’t strong enough to stand against despicable men. She wanted to forgive him, she truly did, but she couldn’t. He would sell her all too easily. Her sister—their sister—was already dead. Lianae might see the same fate—and for what? For Lulach’s self-assurances? To line his coffers? Why?

There was only one way to avoid this fate. It was to allow her brother to assume she would relent. His mind was already made up. “When?” she asked, swallowing her grief. “When would you have me commit this atrocity?”