“Then release me,” she said. “Because I will not marry you. I will not marry anyone.”

“It would be the best outcome for all those involved, both Sinclair and Sutherland,” he replied. And he wanted another chance to kiss her. Not like the kiss in the tree, but a real kiss that would make her forget about strategy and escape. His gaze slid along the blanket covering her body.

Mutiny tightened her gaze. “The best outcome would be for the Sinclairs to leave Dunrobin and Sutherlands alone, to live apart but as allies, letting the feud fade away, since both old chiefs are dead.”

“Allies can turn against one another, like our allies, the Mackays, who are now trying to weaken us by burning our crops. Uniting under one clan, however, is firm and strong. It would strengthen our herds and increase the number of warriors. I could live at Dunrobin with ye, and Joshua and Gideon would continue to live here at Girnigoe.”

It was a sensible plan that would save her people’s lives. He would accomplish what his father had not been able to do, taking Dunrobin and Sutherland lands, and he would prove to his brothers and clan that he deserved the highest respect.

Ella shook her head at him. “You think you have it all figured out.”

Confusion bent his brows. “I do have it all figured out.” He would continue to grow the Sinclair clan, making it the most powerful in Scotland. Maybe one day he could even rule Scotland like his father had hoped.

“How could you without even discovering anything about the Sutherlands, who we are, and why your plan will not work?”

He crossed his arms to match her stance. “Very well, tell me about your clan, Ella Sutherland, and why my plan will not work.”

She exhaled through her teeth, and the cloth she’d wrapped around her hair unraveled, dropping to the floor with a thud. “I cannot.”

“Ye cannot?” he repeated. Or will not. “’Tis fairly easy, lass. Just open your lips and—”

“I made a promise to someone.”

He narrowed his eyes, studying her. “So ye accuse me of not asking about your clan, but ye refuse to tell me anything about it.”

She turned away, flipping the end of the blanket around her back. The kitten chased the frayed corner as it dragged across the floorboards. “It is complicated,” she said. “And I do not trust you.”

“I did not kill or harm ye. Ye have been given clean things, a comfortable room, food, and a gift. Perhaps ye could let go of some of your anger to see the logic behind our union. Even though ye killed my father.”

She pivoted toward him. “And you killed my father.”

“Aye, but your father was a foking bastard who branded ye.”