Page 78 of The Laird who Craved her

A few of the men chuckled quietly around the fire at her audacity. The scarred man finally looked over his broad shoulder. "My name changes nothing," he stated flatly.

"It changes something," Claire challenged.

He studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes calculating, before answering. "Callum," he said simply.

The name meant absolutely nothing to her, though she searched her memory desperately anyway. Nothing.

"Callum," she repeated carefully, testing the sound of it.

"That is all ye need to ken," he warned.

She held his intense gaze without flinching. "Why me?"

Callum looked back toward the darkness. "I have already told ye."

"Nay," Claire argued. "Ye simply failed to listen."

Claire frowned deeply. "Ye said me husband wouldnae remember ye," she recalled.

"Aye," Callum nodded.

"That tells me nothing," Claire pressed.

His jaw tightened visibly. For a terrifying moment, she truly thought he might ignore her again, but instead, he walked slowly back toward the crackling fire. The dancing flames painted sharp, sinister shadows across the pale scar running down his face.

"Tell me something, Lady Claire," Callum prompted quietly.

She said nothing, waiting for his trap to spring.

"When ye arrived at Rosewood..." His dark eyes met hers with piercing intensity. "...did Finn ever tell ye how he became Laird?"

Claire blinked in surprise. "He inherited the title," she answered.

An entirely humorless smile crossed Callum's face. "Did he?"

"He told me his father died," Claire defended firmly.

"He did," Callum agreed, crouching low beside the fire and feeding another dead branch into the flames. "And after his father died..." He watched the dry wood catch fire. "...what happened next?"

Claire hesitated, a seed of doubt planting itself in her mind. "I... I dinnae ken."

"Nay," his voice remained perfectly calm. "I imagine he omitted that part."

One of the other men shifted uneasily by the fire. "Callum..." he started.

The leader silenced the warning with a single, sharp glance. "When men die," Callum continued quietly, returning his attention to Claire, "someone always profits."

Claire's stomach tightened with unease. "What are ye saying?" she asked cautiously.

"I am asking what kind of man inherits the entire glen, while another loses absolutely everything," Callum challenged her softly.

She stared at him, her mind racing. Finn had never spoken much about the dark years immediately following his father's death. He had only mentioned that there had been terrible famine, brutal war, and entirely too much loss. Callum looked almost disappointed by her ignorance.

"He never told ye," he realized.

"Told me what?" Claire pressed, her heart beating faster.

His dark eyes completely hardened into chips of ice. "That there was another clan."