Elspeth gave him a cool smile edged with defiance. A searing hot rage filled Ronan, and he clenched his fists at his sides. Damn it, had she been working with Clad Sudrach the entire time?

“Ronan of Clan Macleay,” Tarag said, his tone sharp and unfriendly, “I donnae believe I’ve met ye. I’ve met yer cousin once. Eadan. Could he not join us?”

Ronan’s gaze was still fixed on Elspeth, who evenly returned it. She shifted her eyes to Kara and stiffened.

“Ah, I see ye and Elspeth ken each other,” Tarag said, looking not at all perturbed that Ronan hadn’t answered his question, his eyes shifting back and forth between Elspeth and Ronan with sly amusement.

Ye ken we’re acquainted, ye bastard, Ronan thought. He’d been in the room for mere seconds with the man and he already hated him.

“She’s a member of Clan Macleay,” Ronan said, still leveling her with a hard stare. “She vanished from her manor and we’ve been concerned as tae her whereabouts.”

“I’m no longer the concern of Clan Macleay,” Elspeth snapped. She reached out to take Tarag’s hand. “I’m tired of yer clan treating me like a prisoner though I’ve done nothing wrong. My husband has been dead for some time; I want tae move on with my life but none in yer clan will have me. Tarag has proposed; I’m tae be his bride.”

In exchange for what? Alarm skittered through Ronan and he tried to keep his expression neutral.

“Congratulations,” he said past stiff lips. “I wish ye would have informed us before ye chose tae depart so hastily.”

“My movements were restricted. Ye never would have let me leave,” Elspeth spat.

“Elspeth—”

“Ye can address any concerns ye have about my future bride tae me,” Tarag interrupted, the amusement gone from his expression now. “Ye didnae answer my question. Where is the chieftain of yer clan?”

“He is away with his new bride. I’m serving as chief in his stead,” Ronan said, finally looking away from Elspeth to Tarag.

“Ah,” Tarag said. “Tae a foreign lass, I hear. A Sassenach. None in my clan would marry one not from these lands. We ken not tae trust foreigners—especially a Sassenach.”

His eyes drifted behind him, and Ronan’s dread rose as his silver eyes landed on Kara. But fury replaced his dread at the lust that filled Tarag’s eyes. Though Ronan couldn’t see Kara, he sensed her tension at Tarag’s appraisal.

“And who is this bonnie lass?”

“My mistress,” Ronan said, trying to make his tone as dismissive as possible. “Sometimes she travels with me.”

Elspeth stilled at Tarag’s side, the jealousy in her eyes plain. Disbelief struck Ronan. Is this why she’d turned to Tarag? Did she hope to gain his attention by her betrayal?

“She is bonnie,” Tarag mused, his eyes lingering on Kara. “’Tis been some time since I’ve had a lass with hair the color of sunshine. There’s no need tae be jealous, Elspeth,” he added, as Elspeth scowled.

“I’ve come here tae discuss an important matter,” Ronan said. He wanted to turn the conversation away from Kara; he didn’t know what he’d do if Tarag kept looking at her with lust in his eyes. “I wish tae offer ye and yer clan an alliance. As ye know, Clan Acheson and Clan Macleay have put their differences aside. Together, perhaps we can form a sept.”

It was an idea he’d come up with the night before; he needed a good reason for his hasty visit. He didn’t want Tarag to know of his suspicions about his clan. Offering a truce seemed the best way to glean information from the chieftain.

“I’ve never had a problem with either of yer clans,” Tarag said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Why would I need tae ally?”

“It could be tae our benefit. In case a rival clan ever wanted tae stake a claim on any of our lands. We could band together for joint protection.”

There was a long moment of silence as Tarag seemed to consider this, pressing the tips of his fingers together.

“I thank ye for yer offer,” he said finally. “But my clan is fine on its own. Unless,” he continued, a wicked smile curving his lips, his silver gaze flickering to Kara, “ye’ve something tae trade.”

The quiet fury that stirred beneath Ronan’s skin erupted. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, as Tarag continued, "Even just a night with the golden lassie in my bed would be worth a—”

Ronan charged toward Tarag, ignoring the warning shouts of Osgar and Luag.

Tarag's guards instantly surrounded him, their hands going to the hilts of their swords. Elspeth stumbled back, her hand flying to her chest.

Osgar and Luag came to Ronan’s side, their hands going to their own swords.

Ronan took several heaving breaths to calm himself. It would be foolish to start a battle with Tarag in his own castle when he was so outnumbered. But Ronan ached to sink his blade into Tarag’s chest for even looking at Kara the way he did.

"'Tis all right."

He stiffened as Kara stepped forward with a seductive smile, and both surprise and anger roiled through him as she made her way to his side. The look she gave him said, trust me.

Panic swirled through his veins, but he remained still. What the hell are ye doing, Kara?

"Ronan can be a wee bit jealous, but he's shared me in the past. I'm a mere lassie, not worthy of such a trade for an alliance."

Ronan stood stock-still, his heart hammering. Kara’s Scottish accent was impressive—it was only slightly off, and he was grateful she’d used it instead of her natural one. That would have invited far too many questions—and suspicion.

Tarag’s eyes widened, and he barked out a laugh.

“Apologies. I thought ye were a foreign lass," he said, his eyes roaming up and down her body, filling Ronan with even more fury.

“’Tis an honest mistake. I’ll wait for ye in the carriage, Ronan. The matters ye discuss here donnae concern me.”

With a respectful bow to Tarag, Kara left the hall.

Ronan watched her go in quiet disbelief—and grudging respect. Somehow, her words had eased the tension in the room; all the men had relaxed, and some had looks of amusement in their eyes.

"Ye share that seductress?” Tarag asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'd not want tae let anyone else between her thighs. But she’s right. Even a lassie as sweet as her is not worth Clan Sudrach becoming entangled with other clans. I've no wish tae ally; my clan stands fine on its own. As such," he continued, his tone hardening as he got his feet. “I donnae appreciate ye and yer men nearly attacking me in my own castle. If ye donnae leave now . . . I cannae promise I willnae retaliate.”

* * *

"You two were about to kill each other," Kara said as their carriage raced away from the castle moments later.

Ronan sat in silence, his fingers pressed to his throbbing temple. Not only had he not gotten any information from Tarag, he’d almost started a battle in the man’s castle.

Kara had taken his silent tension for anger and defended herself as soon as he stepped into the carriage.

"I had to do something,” she continued. “I had to make it seem like I was a bottom-level mistress, someone you wouldn't mind sharing under different circumstances. Someone you didn't care for. It seemed the only way to diffuse the tension.”

"I'm not angry with ye, lass," he muttered, dropping his hand from his temple to look at her. “I’m angry with myself. I almost attacked him because of petty jealousy. I hated the way he was looking at ye. And when he mentioned having ye in his bed . . .” He trailed off, clenching his fists at the memory. “But ’tis no matter how I felt. I should’ve controlled myself. ’Tis what good leaders do.”

Kara reached out to take his hand.

“You are a good leader,” she insisted. She hesitated, before continuing, “Elspeth seemed . . . upset that we were together. She looked like she wanted to kill me. Were you lovers?”

An unmistakable flare of jealousy shone in her eyes. Ronan pulled her close into the crook of his arm.

“We kissed once, but that’s as far as it went. I suspect she wanted more, but I never felt anything for her,” he said. “Nothing like the fire that spreads through my belly whenever ye’re near, witch.”

Kara flushed, the jealousy vanishing from her eyes as she smiled.

“Do you think that’s why she joined Tarag?” she asked, her smile fading. “Because she wanted you, and—”

“No,” he said. “’Tis more than about me. I think Elspeth’s a lonely lass; she’s been lonely for some time. Many in the clan are suspicious of her; she doesnae have many companions. She likely feels no loyalty to Clan Macleay. I think Tarag offered her the attention and companionship she craves. Which is why,” he continued grimly, “I think that Tarag is behind the threats. With Elspeth at his side, he kens what our weaknesses are. ’Tis just a matter of getting proof that ’tis him.”

Kara nodded, her expression troubled. He didn’t want to tell her that he also suspected, despite Kara’s performance, that Tarag had to know by Ronan’s violent reaction to his "offer" of taking Kara, just how important Kara was to him.

It was knowledge that Tarag could use against him—and that scared Ronan more than any other threat Tarag could direct at the clan.