Free Highland Master by Hannah Howell Page A

wonder why she, a lone woman, would be so foolish as to believe she could rule Banuilt without a man at her side. And not just at her side, she thought crossly, but telling her each and every thing that she should do, and just how to do it.
    Once the trouble with Sir John had begun, a few people at Banuilt had suggested that a new laird might end it, that she might consider finding herself a husband to stand up to the man. Behind their words, however, had been no hint that they thought she could not care for Banuilt or its people very well, if not better than many a man could. There had also been no hint that the man she chose to help should ever be Sir John. Her people all knew who had done most of the work managing Banuilt since not long after she had married Boyd. He had had little interest in such things as the fields, the stock, or the need to send something to the market every year. The people of Banuilt were content with her as their laird, even if few others would recognize her as such. Even the very few who were uneasy with a woman sitting in the laird’s seat preferred her to Sir John.
    It was now evident that Sir Brett saw no harm in her sitting in the laird’s place. The more she thought on the matter, the more she realized that none of the men with him did, either. Triona recalled tales of the Murray women told to her by her grandmother, whose aunt’s husband’s sister’s marriage to a Murray had given the family their tenuous connection to the clan. Every single tale had shown the Murray women to be strong, standing beside their men rather than merely bowing to their authority. It would explain why Sir Brett and his men did not hesitate to accept her authority at Banuilt. Sir John never had and never would.
    “Sir John believes we should be married, rejoining the lands and placing him as laird over it all,” she said, seeing no reason to deny the truth. “I suspicion that he sees that as the easiest way to retrieve the land the king gave to that old laird of Banuilt. And Banuilt’s ancient lands as weel, lands far more fertile than the ones surrounding Gormfeurach.”
    “And he gets ye in his bed. I suspicion he has wanted that for a verra long time as weel.”
    Triona shook her head and started walking again, idly studying the trees as she walked the road that ran through them, noting that work was needed here as well. The undergrowth had been left to grow too thick, and there were trees that could be harvested, new ones planted. Boyd’s first wife’s grandfather had left very precise records and advice on caring for the woods, ones that she had followed closely. Boyd had found her diligence amusing, and acted as if he kindly indulged her when he allowed her to follow his first wife’s grandfather’s teachings. She was abruptly pulled from her thoughts when Sir Brett grabbed her by the hand and forced her, gently but firmly, to halt and look at him again.
    “Is something wrong?” she asked.
    “Aside from this matter with Sir John, who tries to beggar Banuilt and force ye to wed with him?” Brett did not like how angry that made him, for it meant that she had touched him in some way in which he had not been touched in a very long time, and done so in but two days. But he could not smother the anger churning within him. “Ye dinnae see it, do ye?”
    “Of course I see it,” she snapped. “I see it every time we put out another fire or lose more of our cattle or sheep. I am nay blind.”
    “Ah, but ye are. It isnae just this land that mon is trying to steal. As I said, he wants ye, too.”
    “Only because it is the easiest and most thorough way for him to grab hold of Banuilt. It may be mine, but once a mon lays claim to me, he will have a claim to Banuilt in most people’s eyes. Sir John sees it as a way to get all he covets without making anyone question him or grow angry with him.”
    “Anyone being your liege laird.”
    “Aye. That mon may nay like the fact that a woman now rules