Ulf's jaw clenched, but he did not answer.
The air inside the great hall crackled and seethed with potential violence.
Emily crowded back into her hidden nook, hoping Ulf would not be that stupid. She agreed with Lachlan; his brother's suggestion for revenge was both stupid and horrible. It gained nothing but pain for either clan. Hearing the other option made Emily glad Lachlan had chosen the path he had taken.
Realizing the alternative, she could finally see that his choice to use Cait to effect the redress was not a matter of taking his anger out on an innocent woman. It was, in fact, his solution to a problem that would otherwise have resulted in bloodshed and much grief.
Cait and she were both better off among the Balmoral. Emily could admit that. Cait was either very close to being, or was already in love with her husband, and Emily grew nauseated at the thought of allowing Talorc to touch her the way Lachlan had done. From what Cait said, Susannah was very happy with Magnus. She would be devastated if he were killed by her former clan.
Lachlan had made a choice that embraced life rather than undervalued it. She did not know if her own father would have been as wise. Ulf certainly was not.
Neither he nor Lachlan had moved for the past several seconds. Emily held her breath in anticipation of what would come next.
Lachlan's hands settled on his hips and he seemed to tower over his brother even though they were close in height. "Show throat or fetch your sword."
"Wolves show throat; I am human."
Emily bit her lip.
"You are Chrechte. You are my brother."
Ulf gave a single jerk of his head and then tilted it sideways, exposing his throat.
Lachlan said something Emily did not understand. It did not sound Gaelic to her. Ulf replied, his words just as incomprehensible, spun on his heel and left the great hall.
Emily silently let out the breath she'd been holding and realized she was shaking violently.
Lachlan looked toward where she hid. "Come here, English."
And in that moment she knew Cait had told the truth, about everything. Ulf had not known she was there, she was sure of it, but Lachlan had known even though he had pretended not to notice. When she had thought he was looking at her, he had been. But most convincing of all was his demand that Ulf show throat. It was not a human tradition and yet it had placated him in the face of terrible fury.
Her father would have demanded a soldier kneel at his feet. Even then, he might have beaten him for his insubordination.
Knowing that she had no hope of hiding, she stepped into the glow cast by the candles lighting the hall. "Why didn't you say something?"
"The situation was volatile enough. You bring out the worst in my brother. I did not want him challenging me out of pricked pride."
"I do not mean to bring out the worst."
"I do not blame you."
"You don't? Even though I have a sharp tongue?"
"I like your sharp tongue, but Ulf is not so tolerant."
"Oh." She licked her lips. "So, I can be plainspoken with you and you will not be offended?"
"If you offend me, I will seek retribution, but not of the kind my brother would like to mete out."
For some reason, that promise made her want to offend him rather than fear doing so.
He smiled as if he knew.
She swallowed. "You do not want to kill your brother."
"Is that such a surprise to you, or do the English not balk at killing their family?" He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression relaxed, but there was a tension about him that the calm stance and expression could not hide.
"I thought you did not care who you hurt as long as you got your own way."
"Did you?"
She licked her lips. "I was wrong."
He gave her a questioning look.
"About the revenge… you could have done far worse than to take Cait and see her mated to your first-in-command."
"Do you think?"
Irresistibly drawn by the intensity emanating off of him, she stepped closer until they were almost touching. "Yes, I do think. I also think that if you had wanted to hurt Talorc's pride and were as uncaring of the feelings of others as I accused you of being, you would have used me and then discarded me. But you did not."
In truth, he had not harmed her in any way.
"Only a weak man has to resort to using a woman."
"I don't think Ulf would agree, but that is why you were so sure Drustan would not hurt Cait, isn't it?"
"He is not weak."
"And neither are you."
"Ulf thinks I am."
"Ulf is hotheaded and bloodthirsty. He truly does not seem to care who gets hurt or ends up dead if his pride is satisfied. I don't think he would make a good leader. Your clan would constantly be at war."
"I agree."
"It is a blessing you were born first then." The urge to touch him grew with every passing breath.
"I wasn't. He was born two years before me."
"But you are laird."
"He did not challenge me when I stepped into my father's place upon his death."
"Because he knew he could not win against you."
"Yes. If he were truly stupid, that would not have mattered. He would have challenged me anyway."
"You admire him."
"In many ways."
"It hurts you that he criticizes your choices."
"A warrior is not so easily affected."
Unable to stifle the desire any longer, she reached out and laid her hand against his chest, right over his heart. "I think a warrior is affected, but he does not show it."
Her body jolted in recognition of that slight connection, and that secret place between her legs that only he seemed to affect ached for something she could not name. It also grew moist and she pressed her legs together in private embarrassment and tried to assuage the ache.
Lachlan's nostrils flared and she could swear he knew her body's reaction to being so near him. "I am not so weak."
"Neither was my father, but when he lost my mother, he lost part of himself. Warriors feel, even when they don't want to."
"Your father was a bastard to you."
"He never hurt me again after that time at the pond."
"Physically maybe, but he hurt your tender heart."
"How can you know?" she asked in a whisper.
"He sent you to marry a Highland laird he knew nothing of. He was willing to let you go to pay for his own mistake. He did not value you as a father should value his daughter."
"I told you, I asked to be sent."
"Because you were terrified they would send your deaf sister."
"Yes."
"He forced your hand."
"Sybil did."
"You were wrong about more than my character, you know."
"What else was I wrong about?" she asked with a smile. His arrogance was starting to charm her.
"Abigail would not have been miserable here."
"I think you are right. Given time, I think even Talorc would have warmed to her. She is very sweet."
"Then you two must have a great deal in common."
Emily did not know what to say to that and stared into Lachlan's dark eyes with their intriguing golden rims for several silent moments.
He ran his fingertip over her lips, making her shiver. "You are a good friend to Cait."
"I care for her."
"She cares for you, too."
"Yes."
"Very much. She offended Drustan by insisting she be allowed to check on you."
"He thought she should have trusted him that I was unharmed?" she guessed. She was beginning to understand these Highland warriors.
"Yes."
"You are both so arrogant."
"But not cruel?"
"No. I do not think you are cruel."
"And Angus?"
Confused, she asked, "What about Angus? I never thought he was cruel, except maybe by association."
Lachlan didn't look pleased by that bit of news. "You show a preference for his company."