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By Monica McCarty
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Extra resources for The Chief
Sample text
Stop shaking, man,” he snapped. ” Rather than looking reassured, however, the clerk seemed to turn an even sicklier shade of gray. Churchmen, Tor thought with disgust. For all their learning, they were delicate creatures. But he had no patience for subtlety. The clerk had best toughen his hide. And if he didn’t, he could be replaced. ” The clerk shook his head, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t know, Chief. ” If Torquil had one wit of sense he had taken his stolen bride and sailed to perdition—which was about the only place Tor would not follow him.
You’re lying,” he growled, grabbing her by the arm. His strong fingers tightened around her like a steel clamp. Her heart fluttered wildly. Fear clutched her throat. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his other hand lift. Her insides curled. She tried to pull away. ” he demanded, giving her a violent shake. The last shard of sun from the fading daylight caught the gold of his ring on his open hand. No! She turned her face away, anticipating the strike. Tears blurred her eyes. “I don’t know,” she sobbed, hating this feeling of helplessness.
After the trouble caused by their sister Muriel’s abduction, he’d assumed Torquil would know better. But he should have anticipated something when the negotiations fell through, and Nicolson announced a betrothal between his daughter and MacDougall’s son instead. Hell. MacDougall would have to be recompensed, and knowing the greedy bastard, it was going to cost him. Tor tossed the balled letter into the fire in the middle of the hall and dismissed the clerk with a curt wave of his hand. Though the churchman looked anxious to scamper away and retreat to the safety of his books and papers, he didn’t move—other than to shift back and forth on his feet anxiously.