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send her home in disgrace.
    And she had no doubt Abigail would be sent in her place, even if he didn't request a new bride. Emily's stomach contracted at the thought.
    She sighed in vexation with herself. The man's rudeness was no excuse for
her
losing her head like that. "Aye, I did. I don't know what came over me. Sybil is always telling me I need to be more ladylike. I suppose your brother thinks I'm not and there's no hope of changing his mind."
    Cait laughed again and shook her head. "That is an understatement. My brother is not used to men challenging him. A challenge from a woman is bound to keep him in a foul mood a good long while." Cait sobered a little at the thought.
    "Do you think he meant what he said about not marrying me, even against the orders of his overlord?"
    "You needn't sound so happy about it. Talorc isn't that bad," replied Cait reprovingly.
    "Yes, of course, you should say that. You are his devoted sister after all. And I'm not hopeful… not exactly." Not when her duty to her sister dictated she marry the cranky warrior. "But do you think he meant it?"
    "I don't know. Talorc rarely says something he does not mean. In fact, I am not sure I remember a time he has done so," admitted Cait.
    "Do you think he will send me back to England?"
    Cait's eyes filled with worry. "I do not know, but I do not want you to go. I have come to rely on your company."
    It was a question that had still not been answered the next afternoon. Emily desperately wanted to go home, but knew mat no matter what Talorc had decided for her future, she had to talk him out of sending her back to England. Sure as certain, she was going to have to apologize.
    And the thought of apologizing to the laird was as unpleasant as the prospect of marrying him.
    But Abigail would never survive life amidst the Sinclair clan. They were a prejudiced people, and Abigail's affliction on top of her being English was bound to make her life a misery.
    Cait was the only person in the clan that made Emily feel welcome in any way. Everyone else either ignored her or was blatantly hostile. Especially the soldiers. It was as if they were personally offended she had been chosen to marry their laird. She felt like a leper and without Cait's friendship, she would have despaired.
    As it was, when the two women went to the stream the other clanswomen used for washing, they were greeted by glares and not a single welcoming smile. Emily did her best to ignore the waves of rejection rolling over her and began washing her gowns marred by dirt on the journey north from England. But one by one, each of the clans-women left, making it clear they did not want to be soiled by her presence. Stupid, weak tears filled her eyes.
    "Are they like this with all outsiders?" Emily asked Cait as she blinked back the wetness in her eyes and tried to pretend it did not bother her.
    "No. One of our warriors has just mated with a woman from the Balmoral clan and the other women accepted her warmly." Cait sighed. "I fear news of your confrontation with my brother has reached the rest of the clan. They're very loyal to their laird."
    "And I called him a goat."
    "Not quite," Cait said with a smile.
    "You're loyal to your brother, but you don't hate me, do you?" she asked, realizing Cait's kind heart might be moved to pity, but she could very well dislike Emily as much as the rest of the clan.
    "Of course not. And the other women won't once they get to know you either."
    "Don't they care that he called me his enemy?"
    Cait shrugged. "You
are
English."
    "And therefore the enemy?"
    The other woman sighed sadly. "Yes, but it is more than that. I suppose I should have told you. Only I had hoped Talorc would learn to be reasonable about it."
    "About what?"
    "Our father married an Englishwoman."
    "Your mother was English?"
    "No. She died when I was very small. Our father remarried when Talorc was fourteen. I was five at the time. The woman was very beautiful, but not trustworthy. They had only