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reckless, headstrong heart her sister had left with, only to return home with bruises and a soreness in her spirit that had never fully recovered. Her anger at Donegal had left Edwina unable to bond with his child, robbing her of the joy she should have felt in motherhood.
    Edwina had begged Cristiana to raise her child. The choice had broken her sister’s heart, but at least the decision had been a selfless one. Edwina had recognized that her exile from home and her broken spirit would not help her nurture the child. She had wanted Leah to have every advantage—a secure home, safety from her brutish father and a mother whose heart had not been frozen by violence.
    So in order to protect the babe from its father and to salvage Edwina’s reputation, Cristiana had vowed not to reveal Leah’s existence until she was a woman grown. Indeed, the secret was not even hers to tell.
    “Stop what? Forcing you to see that an innocent maid may not have understood where teasing kisses lead?” He threw back the contents of the cup and then slammed the empty container on the worktable. “You tossed away your future with both hands because of an incident that was as much Edwina’s fault as anyone else’s.”
    “Out.” She could not muster more words than this. Not until she took a few steadying breaths and braced herself against a tall column supporting the rafters.“You need to leave and never speak of it again if you wish to remain under my roof. Good day, sir.”
    “But it’s not your roof, and never will be if you do not wed a strong man to rule Domhnaill for you. Perhaps I will put my own name forward as your father’s successor to secure my shelter for the winter.” He stalked from the brew house, turning briefly at the door. “I trust you’ve found a time for me to meet with him?”
    “Tomorrow.” She had hoped it would not be so soon, but perhaps a cold reception would send Duncan and his men on their way all the faster. “After we sup.”
    With a clipped nod, he pushed open the door, allowing a gust of bracing cold air to rush inside.
    “And no need to worry about your place here, Cristiana. When I become laird here, I’m sure I’ll still require a mistress of the mead. Or perhaps you wish to become my leman?”
    The barb found its mark when she did not think he could hurt her any more.
    “A wise man avoids making enemies with a woman who knows her herbs,” she warned, cursing herself for ever opening her gate to him, let alone her arms. But he was already disappearing into the white swirl of a fresh snowfall outside her door.
    Of all the cursed arrogance. How dare he threaten to depose her? Yet she’d committed the gravest mistake of the day. What had she been thinking to allowhim to kiss and touch her, knowing he was a man of dangerously seductive skill? Of course, that had been much of the allure. The past had been hounding her ever since Duncan had arrived. Memories of their stolen moments together five years ago. The kiss that had taken place in this very spot.
    Duncan thought she sacrificed much to remain unwed. In truth, after experiencing his kiss the first time, it had not been difficult to turn away other suit ors. It had only been a hardship to know she would never wed him.
    But he’d become her enemy that day her sister had returned home. She’d sworn then that no Culcanon would ever lay hands on the Domhnaill legacy. And no heated encounters with her former betrothed would sway her to forsake that vow.
     
    At sup that eve, Cristiana would have been content to make excuses not to join her guests, except that the holidays were upon them and she had invited many of her father’s allies to Domhnaill in the hope one of them would prove a strong successor for her father.
    She certainly had no desire to see Duncan again so soon after their earlier encounter.
    But she had plotted many moons for this festive season with her father’s oldest counselor, Keane, whom she waited for just outside the