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"Aye, but that spirit may yet be your downfall, Mackinnon."

"What did she say?"

"That she'd never marry ye."

"Och, she's said that from the first. She'll change her mind."

Jean studied him with an unfriendly eye. He fought the urge to squirm. She loved him like a mother, but she was well aware of his faults. "I hope so, Mackinnon, for all our sakes, including hers."

"Och, old woman, dinnae fash yourself. I’ve got everything in hand. Now step aside and let me check the lassie hasnae laid another ambush. She crowned me with the peat bucket before supper, ye ken."

"Good for her." Amusement lit Jean's eyes. "She might be a Drummond, but I like her."

"So do I," he admitted and suffered a knowing look.

Aye, Jean was onto him. His yearning for Bonny Mhairi Drummond was no secret.

"Let me check that she's respectable," Jean said.

Callum wasn't sure he wanted the lassie respectable. Although his good intentions would be easier to follow if she was. "Aye, if ye must. But dinnae get any ideas of staying."

"Och, what a big strong man ye are, Mackinnon. Terrorizing a wee lassie for the sake of convincing the clan you're a ravisher of virgins."

This time, he really did squirm. "Away with ye, woman. That's enough."

"Aye, that is enough." She gave him another disapproving look and turned to open the door behind her.

Before the door shut in his face, Callum caught a tantalizing glimpse of a slender woman in white with a cascade of red hair falling about her shoulders. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of the bolt slamming home, locking him out in the stairwell.

Chapter 11

The messenger from the Drummonds arrived the next day. Over the centuries, both clans had taken hostages, for gold, for revenge, and as assurance of good behaviour. So Callum had expected to receive an offer of payment for Mhairi's return before any more aggressive attempt to get her back. In his father's day, when the Drummond was younger and feeling his oats, perhaps an army would already camp at the castle gates. But the old man was more cautious now, and

he’d be reluctant to risk harm coming to his only child.

While the Drummond’s response to Callum's marriage negotiations made it clear that his hatred for anyone named Mackinnon was as virulent as ever, Callum suspected he lost his taste for large-scale violence. A scaling down of skirmishes between the two clans over recent years had been among the things prompting him to hope that he could establish peace.

He escorted Mhairi down to the hall where the party from Bruard waited. She was dressed as befitted the Lady of Achnasheen in an elaborate green silk gown. Her hair was done up in some elaborate folderol, the rich auburn shining in the morning light. She looked alert and well rested.

Lucky her.

"I trust ye passed a good night," he said in a neutral tone.

She didn't look at him. Nor did she smile, which was wise. A faint relaxation of the stern line of that lush pink mouth was indication enough of how she relished besting him last night.

"Verra peaceful," she said in a prim voice.

I'll bet, he thought sourly. He'd spent the night wrapped up in his plaid in a small unfurnished chamber halfway down the stairs. It was where the laird's bodyguards had once lodged. These days, life at Achnasheen was settled enough that the laird no longer needed a band of warriors to protect him from assassins. Although Callum began to wonder if he needed a band of warriors to control one troublesome woman.

Things could have been worse. At least it was summer. His night had been uncomfortable, but he hadn't been at risk of freezing. His temper had kept him warm for a while, but eventually he'd seen the funny side of what had happened. He’d gone to sleep with a smile on his face.

Last night, the two women had won the battle. There were plenty of nights to come. Which didn't mean he wouldn’t have a stern word with Jean. When he found her. She was the clan’s healer and had been called away early to a distant croft where a woman was in childbirth.

"I'm verra pleased to hear it," he said with feigned politeness.

Mhairi cast him a quick surprised look under her thick, dark lashes. "I thought you’d be angry."

"Ye beat me fair and square." He paused. "And I'd made my point."


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical