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When Roddy glowered at his father, Mungo stomped up to his son and whacked him in the shoulder. “Yer a Murray, are ye not? So, start actin’ like one. Take what’s yers and be done with it.”
“But—”
“The lass gave herself to ye, did she not?”
“Aye,” Roddy said. “She did.”
“That’s entirely beside the point,” Donella indignantly butted in. “Besides, I’m now—”
“Well, ye did, lass,” Roddy interrupted. “Ye canna deny it.”
“She denied it and called us liars,” Mungo said. “I’ll have our honor restored if I have to lock ye in here all night.”
Donella shot to her feet. “Now, see here, you old goat—”
“Get the job done.” Mungo pointed a gnarled finger at his son. “Ye owe it to yer family’s honor.”
With considerable alacrity, he stormed out. The door slammed, and a key turned in the lock.
“Blast.” She sank into the chair and covered her face. She was cold, tired, and her head was pounding again.
She’d gotten herself into this mess by telling lies all those years ago, and now she’d get herself out of it by telling the truth.
Roddy cautiously approached. “Can I do something for ye, lass?”
“Yes, you can get me out of here.”
“But my da locked the door, ye ken.”
Really, the poor man was hopeless.
Then he brightened. “Can I fetch ye a glass a wine?”
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And you wouldn’t happen to have an extra sock or slipper lying about, would you?” She wriggled her stocking foot at him.
Looking concerned, he hurried to pour a goblet of red wine from a pitcher. Then he dug around in a small pack stowed in a corner, and unearthed a pair of thick woolen socks.
“I won’t hurt ye, Donella,” he earnestly said as he returned to her. “I promise.”
“I know.” She thankfully pulled on one of the socks. It was too large and smelled rather musty, but was blessedly warm.
“But my da’s right. Ye betrayed me and dishonored my family. Da just wants to make things right, and I want to do right by ye, too. I still have feelin’s for ye, Donella. Yer the bonniest lass I ever did meet.”
She hated what she had to do. “Please sit, Roddy. We need to talk.”
He perched on the edge of the other chair, looking as boyishly eager as he had ten years ago.
“Roddy, I’m truly sorry I lied about us all those years ago. It was very wrong.”
He tilted his head. “Why did ye tell such a great fib, lass? I knew ye didn’t love Gilbride. Ye loved me.”
She winced. “I didn’t love Alasdair, but I didn’t love you, either. I was mad at Alasdair for running away from me. You were very nice to me, and I appreciated that.”
He blinked. “Ye mean, ye didna have feelin’s for me?”
“Not in the way that you wanted me to. Besides, Iwasbetrothed to Alasdair. For my family’s honor, I could not go back on that vow.”
“But ye did canoodle with me, so ye must like me a little bit. Ye were happy that night, were ye not?” he finished on a hopeful note.
