The Anguish of the Scottish Lairds (Clans of Mull Book 3) by Keira Montclair

Author:Keira Montclair [Montclair, Keira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keira Montclair
Published: 2025-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Eva

Eva stood back listening to the two elders argue, and she had no idea what to do. She’d come down the stairs when Dermot Rankin had come storming in, yelling for her mother. And her mother hadn’t backed down one bit.

In fact, her mother helped her to stand a wee bit straighter, so much so that she didn’t wish to interrupt.

“How dare you insult me and my son, Rut MacVey. Your husband is rolling in his grave over this slight, and you know it,” Dermot said, striding across the hall until he stood toe to toe with her mother.

“How dare you walk into my home and talk to me like that, you old coot. Take yourself back out and enter with a bit of decorum. You’ll not yell at me like that.”

“The hell I won’t. You let your daughter refuse to marry my son? Did you approve of her decision too?”

Eva glanced over as the door opened, and Sloan stepped inside. She’d never been so glad to see anyone. Hurrying around the outside of the hall, she was nearly in tears when she reached him, so she did the only thing she could think of. She launched herself into his arms. “Sloan, I don’t know what to do. Help me.” He set something down in a chair, then wrapped his arms around her.

Lennox came in behind Sloan, his eyes widening when he saw his friend and sister locked in a warm embrace. Sloan set Eva down but kept his hand at her back as if to protect her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll end this now.”

But Lennox stopped Sloan. “Nay, let them have it out. It’s time.”

Rut said in a calm, even tone, “She wasn’t refusing, but delaying, and since when does your son have to have her brother ask for him? Did you think that mayhap she was waiting for Sloan to come and ask her appropriately? Had that thought ever crossed your old, daft mind, Dermot?”

“That’s the way it used to be done, and you know it. There’s naught wrong with the old ways. The chieftains made the matches, based on what was best for the clans, just like yours and mine were made.”

“Mayhap I didn’t like it happening that way. I wished to choose my own husband. I don’t like someone telling me what to do.” She crossed her arms and swayed her skirts enough to hit Dermot across the legs, an intentional movement. Eva knew her mother’s ways well.

“You’ve always been like that, Rut MacVey. You gave your husband gray hairs because you speak your mind too much. Women should sit demurely by the fire and do their needlework.”

Rut turned to all the servants who stood by watching and shouted, “Get out. All of you. Now.” The scurrying nearly set Eva into gales of laughter.

Eva took two steps, but Rut pointed at her and said, “You do not move, daughter, because this man will apologize to you, or I’ll spit in his face before I put my fist in it.

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