He narrowed his eyes. Damn her hide. Dallying with a guard. She could even now be carrying Farquar's bastard. As her guardian, Neacal was the one responsible for finding her a husband. Since she'd only been his ward as long as he'd been chief, he'd had no time to even think about her.
"I'll find a suitable husband for you," he said.
"What? Nay!"
"You could be with child," he growled. "And if you are, 'tis far better for you to be married to someone when that child is born."
"I wanted to marry Farquar, but you made sure that didn't happen!" She burst into sobs again.
"Hell," Neacal muttered. "Farquar tried to force himself on Mistress Douglas, you daft lass!"
"That is ridiculous!" she cried. "He would not do that. He was a sweet, gentle man."
Neacal shook his head. "And then he drew his sword and challenged me. If he had gone quietly to the dungeon, he would yet be alive."
"You wanted rid of him because you knew I loved him and you thought him beneath me! Not good enough for me to marry. But he was. You and that Douglas whore concocted this lie so you could murder him!"
Rage streaked through Neacal at blinding speed, but he forced himself to remain where he was and take a deep breath. Constance had annoyed him his entire life but she was growing worse.
"I cannot believe this has happened. You will regret this, Neacal!"
He wished he could tell her to pack her trunks and get out, but 'twas impossible until he married her off to someone. He would have to find someone suitable, who could deal with her forceful nature.
A knock sounded at the door. He crossed the room and opened it. Tavia waited in the corridor holding a tea tray. "Come in," he said. "Constance was just leaving."
His cousin gave him the evil eye as she exited. He closed the door behind her.
"I brought you more chamomile tea to help you sleep, m'laird. I mixed it with mint and honey just the way you like it." She set the tray on the table.
"I thank you, Tavia. I was able to sleep better the past two nights."
She straightened and faced him, her eyes curious. "I'm glad. What caused this improvement?"
"I'm not certain," he fibbed, knowing it had something to do with Anna, but to admit that would sound foolish. He trusted Tavia above anyone in the clan, for she'd dragged him back from death's door when she'd healed his severe injuries. She was almost like a second mother to him, even though she was less than ten years older than him. Still, he didn't want her to ken the extent to which Anna affected him.
"How is Anna Douglas?" he asked. "Did she sustain any injuries?"
"Several bruises. Nothing broken that I could tell. I checked her from head to toe."
Relief eased his tense muscles a bit. "Thank God I got to her in time." Aye, thank God ten thousand times over. And Dunn, too, for he'd alerted Neacal.
"Indeed. It could've been far worse. She wanted me to tell you not to worry over her."
He wouldn't now that Tavia had given her the once over. He had never known of another healer as skilled. "I wonder, did she tell you where she's from or anything about herself?"
"Nay. She seems a very private person."
He nodded. "I merely wondered if she is married, widowed or betrothed."
Tavia lifted a curious brow. Damnation, she saw right through him. Now she knew he held a bit more interest in Anna than he should.
"She's a widow."
"I see." He was relieved to hear there was no husband who might arrive and be furious about the guard attacking her. And, although he didn't want to admit it, he was also glad Anna was unattached. "Can you check on her in the morn and see how she is?"
"Of course. I'd be glad to. She's a very pleasant and likable lass."
"'Tis true." Beyond pleasant, truth be told, but he would keep his mouth shut on the matter.
