And she’d been cast out? Anger pricked at him. He touched her chin to stop the silent quiver and nudged upward until she stared him directly in the eye.

“Why, lass? Why would your own kin turn you out?”

“The laird made improper advances toward me when I was but a young girl, barely on the cusp of womanhood. His wife walked in as he tried to rape me, and she cried me whore. I was turned out for trying to seduce the laird.”

Alaric was momentarily speechless. His hand fell away from her chin as his mind grappled with the implications.

“Sweet Jesu,” he whispered.

His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw as he imagined his sweet Keeley, a much younger Keeley, trying to fend off a much older, stronger man. It made him ill.

It made him furious.

“It wasn’t true,” she said in a fierce whisper.

“Nay!” he denied, his hand flying back to caress her cheek. “Of course it wasn’t. I hope you don’t think I thought so even for a moment. I’m furious that you were treated so unjustly and that you paid the sins of the laird. His job is to protect his clan. To be deserving of the mantle of leadership. To prey on a young girl is a betrayal of all he is foresworn to do.”

She closed her eyes as relief washed in a clear line across her face. Alaric’s heart twinged for what she’d endured. But more than that, he had a strong urge to hie himself to McDonald keep and beat Laird McDonald until he was incapable of ever forcing himself on another woman. To think he’d supped with the man in the McCabe hall. He’d welcomed the man on his land as an ally and as a future father through marriage. His lips curled in disgust and his head ached when he realized there was naught to do. He couldn’t set aside an alliance by making an enemy of McDonald.

It was a damnable position to be in.

Determined not to dwell on things beyond his control, he turned his attention to the one thing he could.

He stroked his palm over Keeley’s silken flesh, his thumb lingering over her full lips and to the slight indention at her chin. His fingers stroked down the slim column of her neck to rest on her chest just above the swell of her breasts.

He could feel the slight flutter of her pulse, and he heard the swift intake of her breath when he lowered his hand to cup the swell through the thin material of her night dress.

“I wonder if you have any idea of your beauty, lass. Your flesh is soft and as pale as moonlight on the snow. ’Tis unmarred by a single blemish or defect. I could spend forever just touching you.”