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“Nay,” Henry mumbled as his eyes shifted to the ground. “I didnae see a thin’. I swear.”
“Lies daenae become ye sir,” Conner snapped as he flicked his finger and thumb together. Olivia watched as Damon scooped Henry up off the ground.
“Three days in the stocks for lyin’,” Conner said.
“I’m nae lyin’,” Henry pleaded. “Why would I lie about such a thin’?”
“I daenae ken,” Conner answered as Damon dragged the man from the room. “But from those woods ye have a clear shot of the field and the castle. Either ye saw somethin’ and are nae sayin’ or ye werenae there. And seein’ as how my men found ye around that area, it’s clear ye saw somethin’ and are nae tellin’ me. Three days in the stocks should help jog yer memory.”
“Please, I have a family,” Henry pleaded.
“And that is yer second lie to me,” Conner growled as he sprang from his seat. “Say one more and I’ll have yer head.”
Olivia’s heart skipped in her chest as she watched Henry drop his head as Damon and others dragged him out of the great hall.
“Are ye alright?” Conner asked, turning to Olivia.
“Aye,” she said, looking stunned by her husband words and actions. She couldn’t help but smile at him as she realized how similar they were in mind and spirit. “But if he’s nae the one…”
“Daenae fret, my love. There are two others my men gathered. We will question all of them. I promised ye justice and ye shall have it.”
Conner reached for Olivia’s hand and drew it to his lips. Her heart fluttered as she watched Conner gaze up at her.
“I need a dram of whiskey,” Olivia confessed. There was no doubt about what she wanted. But knew if she were to sit before two other men and listen to their tales of woe, she’d need to take the edge off her emotions. Or at the very least numb the anger festering inside of her.
“Send in the other,” Conner said with a snap of his fingers.
The crowd fell silent as another man was ushered into the great hall. Olivia’s heart stopped the moment she laid eyes on the man. The stark silver scar that raced down his face had haunted her dreams. Clinging to the armchair, she tried to remain as calm as she could. Conner’s words played over and over in her mind as she focused on the floor at the man’s feet.
In the corner of her eye, she noticed Conner. His back was straight and the compassion on his face turned cold. There was no need for Olivia to say a single word to him. He knew in the depths of his being why Olivia’s body went rigid.
“What is yer name?” Conner asked as Sionn pushed the man to his knees before the council and clan.
“Joseph,” the man answered as his beady eyes shifted about the room. “Joseph O’Mallie.”
The air whizzing through Conner’s lips didn’t go unnoticed by Olivia. She heard it as loud as thunder cracking in the sky. Whipping her head about, she stared at Conner. His brow furrowed as his lips twitched. Anger flickered across his face as did shock and panic.
“Yer Joseph O’Mallie?” Conner gasped as he rose from his seat.
“Where were ye yesterday?” Conner asked. “What business did ye have in my realm? For ye didnae come to pay any homage to me or my clan.”
Joseph’s eyes shifted and landed directly on Olivia. She felt his gaze burrow into her like a tick, searching for her weakness. Every fiber of her body screamed for her to get up and wipe the smirk from his face. It took all she had to reach for the dram with a steady hand as the servant served her.
Pulling the small glass to her lips, she downed the whiskey and strangled the glass in her hand.
“I have family here,” Joseph said.
“And does yer master ken where ye are?”
“I have nay master,” Joseph snapped. “I’m a free man.”
“Dae ye nae work for the Websters?” Conner asked as he inched closer to Joseph. Suddenly Conner’s change of demeanor made sense. Olivia’s heart sank and sputtered in her chest as flashes of yesterday’s events trickled through her mind.
“The Websters?”
“Aye,” Conner growled as Olivia noticed Conner losing his patience. “The Websters. My wife’s family. Or did ye nae think that I would ken such things?”
“I have never worked for those people. Daenae even ken who they are.”
