Cain kept his gaze fastened to the now vacant archway where Ella had disappeared. He replayed the words from each character in the room. Something piqued his instincts. There were secrets at play here; he was almost certain.

“Gideon.”

“Aye?”

“Take a group of six men with ye to Edinburgh. Gain an audience with King James and see how he feels about the Sutherland Clan being ruled by Alec’s only surviving child. See if the crown supports her claim.” Aye, something did not fit together in this complicated puzzle that made up Ella Sutherland.

…

Wed him and kill him.

The words echoed through her head like a macabre chant. Kenneth wanted her to swear before God to cherish and obey Cain, and then, when she found him vulnerable, kill him. She swallowed hard. Could she do that, lie to God to love and cherish a man, and then turn around and end his life? Slice his throat as he slept sated next to her? Would she burn in Hell for doing so?

“This is war,” she whispered against the memory of him speaking softly to the mare and cradling the foal last night. “A war that he has brought on himself.” He’d shown no mercy to Kenneth as he stood there bravely among men and swords, Cain’s brother Death looming before him with his scythe. But did Cain deserve to die through deceit? How many of her people had he killed in battle? A hundred? A thousand? What would he do to her clan if he took it over?

Damn him. Last night in the stables had been a ruse. The harsh look today showed Cain’s true heart, hollow and cold. Even when she’d finally agreed to wed him, he’d teased her about the kiss, mocking her helplessness in the situation. Her hands were tied to save Kenneth from future harm.

The door of the laird’s room was up ahead, and before Thomas could catch up to guard her, she ducked inside. It was vacant but was obviously in the process of being cleaned and rearranged to accommodate the new chief.

She walked straight to the chess table, picking up the white knight. Too bad there wasn’t a fire into which to throw it. She peered at its indifferent features and scrunched up her face like a child. Damn Cain for wanting her land and castle. Damn him for wanting her, too. “You are hollow inside, Cain Sinclair,” she whispered, staring at the horse. A flutter in her stomach made her heart pound as she curled her fingers around the chess piece. But do you deserve to die by your wife’s hand?