Free Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance by K. E. Saxon

a bug-eyed look. She was very very sorry she’d run this way.
    From the doomed look on her face, Daniel realized the lass knew she had riled her father’s ire once more. And his smile broadened even further when he realized the devilkin’s remorse was not for stealing the apples—but for going the wrong direction and getting caught by her father! Daniel shook his head. Lord, she was a handful. He figured she raised someone’s ire at least ten times a day with her mischief-making. And her father, the poor man, likely had a time of it keeping the peace in his own home.
    “Maryn, turn around right this instant and give that satchel back to Angus,” Laird Donald growled. “You have been taught better than to treat an honored guest in such a manner. Confess your remorse immediately and then”—he jabbed his finger in the direction of the upper level— “go up to your bedchamber to reflect on your offenses!”
    Maryn bowed her head and sniffled piteously as tears of humiliation and hurt trickled from her eyes and trailed down her hot, dirty, sticky cheeks. Why should she be the one to confess her remorse? She’d found the bag of apples, not stolen them. Holding the satchel a bit tighter to her chest, her thoughts turned even more belligerent. It should be him , the mean man, that confessed his remorse to her for being so stingy. So, she’d found the apples after long minutes of delving into the crusty old warrior’s belongings—and mayhap she did feel a bit bad that she had not at least asked him if she could have one. But she loved apples—really, really , loved them. And he had so many . Thousands. Of course, she’d only heard the number before. But she knew ‘twas a lot by the way people’s eyes got so big when they said it. Aye, there were surely at least that many in his satchel. And she had truly thought he would not miss one or two. Or three , her guilty conscience reminded.
    When his daughter remained stubbornly mute with a sorrowful look upon her countenance, Laird Donald told her, “I am going to talk to cook and have her prepare the two things you hate the most, turnips and kale, for your supper as a punishment for your rude behavior.”
    Maryn’s face crumpled up as if she’d just swallowed soured milk. “ Nay, Papa! ”
    She bawled in earnest now, knowing she’d no doubt be sick for days after eating the slimy muck.
    Laird Donald would not be swayed. “Return that satchel to our guest and tell him you are sorry, or you shall have the same on the morrow,” he warned. “You shall not be allowed out of your bedchamber until you’ve given your confession to Father Kincaid as well. I shall send him up directly.” Laird Donald imperiously pointed toward the entrance to the hall. “ Go! ”
    Maryn turned and ran toward the entry as if the hounds of hell were on her heels, wailing in abject misery. “I’m sorry!” she cried as she ran past her victim, dropping the largesse at his feet.
    Poor wee thing, Daniel thought. She’d had her feelings soundly crushed, and in front of witnesses. And ‘twas obvious from Angus’s expression that he was feeling bad for the bairn as well.
    Fergus jabbed his finger firmly into his friend’s chest. “You’re a meanspirited, hard-hearted father to punish such a sweet, timid wee lass so harshly.”
    Daniel and Angus looked at each other in amused disbelief. Sweet? Timid?
    Laird Donald took his friend’s rebuke in stride. “Now, Fergus, you know Maryn well and she’s anything but timid. Tho’, aye, she does possess an extremely tender heart.” When his friend continued to glare at him, he sighed and said, “You may rest assured that I shall be visiting with her soon to soothe her hurt feelings, I mean only to allow her some time to contemplate her transgression before I do so.”
    Fergus relaxed his stance and nodded. “Good. She’s a sweet lass,” he said again.
    Settling back down at the table, Laird Donald motioned for the others to do the same.