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Jean shook her head. "Ye didnae wield the sword that took my Neil from me."

"My kinsman did," she mumbled, ashamed, although the cruel truth was that over the years, a host of Drummond boys hadn't returned alive to Bruard either.

"Which is why I hope it all ends with ye as the Mackinnon's loving wife and the Drummond giving his blessing to your first bairn."

"It's never going to happen, Jean."

"Aye, so ye say, my lady."

But pity lingered in the woman's face as she turned to go. And tears prickled Mhairi’s eyes when she surveyed the luxurious prison where she feared she might be condemned to spend a life sentence.

***

"Is the lady well?" Callum asked as Jean left the room. He craned over her graying head to catch a glimpse of the lassie inside.

"Aye. But she has nae great liking for ye, Callum Dubh. It's a challenge you caught yourself there, if ye dinnae want a dirk between your ribs some moonlight night when you're sleeping beside your stolen Drummond bride."

"She'll come round." To his regret, Jean closed the door, leaving them on the shadowy landing.

"Will she?"

"Marrying the Drummond's darling is the only way to stop the bloodshed. Ye more than anyone kens that."

"Aye, I do." Her lips lengthened into an unimpressed line. "I also ken when a laddie's got an itch in his breeks for a comely lassie."

To his mortification, a flush rose in his cheeks. "She's awfu’ bonny. Any man would…"

"Just watch out ye dinnae break your heart over her, my lad."

He scoffed and wondered if Jean found his careless response to her warning as unconvincing as he did. She knew him better than anyone at Achnasheen, so he guessed she did. "This match is for purely political purposes. If I catch myself a pretty lass in the process, all the better. Nae hearts are involved."

Jean's expression didn't change. "Aye, if ye say so, Mackinnon."

"Is she ready for me to go in?"

"Are ye ready to keep your hands to yourself?"

"Aye." He hated how sulky he sounded. "She's no’ ready to come to me yet."

"Just remember that, when you're burning for her," Jean said sharply. "I didnae bring ye up to be a despoiler of innocent girls, Mackinnon."

He frowned as his rare temper stirred. "Ye ken me better than that."

Her gaze was uncompromising. "I hope so."

"I gave her my word I'd await her consent to the marriage."

"Ye may never get that."

Not for want of trying. And not just for his clan's sake.

God’s blood, wasn't he lurking out here, desperate for a mere peek at her? Perhaps sleeping in the same room as Mhairi Drummond tonight wasn't such a smart move. He wished to the devil she hadn't defied him in front of everyone. Although he should have expected her to buck when he claimed her as his bride.

"I've never lost before, Jean."

"Aye, and you've a way with the lassies. But this one might be a test too far."

"A lassie with spirit is what I need. My wife will need to take her place leading the clan at my side."


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical