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tutors had been strict and he had experienced the sting of their disapproval, but he had never run from them in fear, nor had they drawn blood. Bartholomew must be more cruel. He took a deep breath. He felt ill-trained to act as parent to his brother in such matters. His anger grew.
    Amber’s emotions were easy to read. She looked as if she would stand in the courtyard until the waters in Loch Ness froze, before she would give ground. “Bartholomew’s methods might be more severe than I had been aware of, but in the end they will prove correct.”
    She raised an eyebrow. “How can you be so sure your brother will be all right? “ Amber paused and glanced toward the growing shadows in the courtyard. ”You can turn a gentle dog mean and vicious by mistreating him. Are children less fragile? To protect himself, a child could harden his heart to all emotion.“
    Her words cut through his reserve. His father had turned one of their prize wolfhounds so unmanageable with mistreatment it had attacked and killed one of the children in the town. Truth ran clear in her words. He looked down at Gavin. “Why didn’t you speak to me of the beatings?”
    “The English attack us from the sea and the Loch Ness beastie frightens the villagers.”
    “All you say is true, but it is not the question I asked.”
    Amber touched his arm. “It sounds as if Gavin thought you had enough problems. He didn’t want to add his own.”
    Lachlan had been wrong. Anger burned within him like the heat of a banked fire. If Gavin had come to him with tales of Bartholomew’s cruelty, he knew his reaction. He would have done nothing. Lachlan had been consumed with defending his castle against an attack from Subedei.
    He paced in front of the tutor. “Mistreatment breeds cruelty. Bartholomew, the troublesome mare I allow you to stable has never felt the bite of your whip, yet you beat a child.”
    Bartholomew flexed the twig between his hands. “I shall not teach a lad who cannot abide to sit still. He is forever losing his place while he reads.”
    “Your patience with your horse is boundless.”
    Bartholomew adjusted the sleeves of his tunic. “The mare needs a gentle hand to coax the right mix of loyalty and duty.”
    “But Gavin is to be beaten?”
    “A boy is not a horse.”
    “Aye, a boy needs more care.” Lachlan doubled up his fist and hit Bartholomew in the jaw.
    The schoolmaster slumped back. Blood spurted from his mouth. The mask of confidence he had held intact melted away. Lachlan grabbed Bartholomew around the neck. “How does it feel to have fear run through you like molten lead? I shall notify the general assembly of the need for a new parish schoolmaster.”
    “I… I will not hard the boy again, you have my word.” He tried to pry Lachlan’s fingers from around his throat. “Please, I beg you, let me go.” The switch dropped to the ground. “Please.”
    Lachlan heard someone come up beside him. It was Amber.
    “Don’t you think strangling this man is a little bit extreme?”
    Her voice was as calm as a spring breeze. His life depended upon exacting swift revenge on anyone who hurt those in his care. Yet she was asking for him to try another path. Her touch cooled his anger. She was right. He released his hold on Bartholomew and watched the man rub his jaw and hurry toward the safety of the shadows. The schoolmaster may have thought he had escaped, but Lachlan remembered something Amber had said. He might not allow his wolfhounds to tear Bartholomew limb from limb, as was his desire, but he would make certain the schoolmaster, if the man taught again, would be watched.
    The decision made, he looked at Amber as she talked with his brother. He folded his arms across his chest. This woman had been able to cool his temper with her words alone. The similarity to the women of his clan was apparent. She was a woman who spoke clearly what was on her mind.
    Gavin stared at him with the trust of the young, yet Lachlan felt he had