Page 51 of Wild Wicked Scot
“You can understand our concern, Mackenzie,” said Rory Gordon. “Dunn has warned us all that there is talk of forfeiture of our holdings for conspiring with Stuart.”
“The crown has no legal grounds for it,” Arran argued.
Buchanan laughed low. “And when have you known the English to mind legalities when on Scottish soil, aye? I take you at your word, Mackenzie. I’ve always known you to be an honest man. No matter how peculiar it seems that your bonny English wife has come back to her marriage bed at a time we are all looking round for the English spy.”
“I will say it only once more—she’s nothing to do with it,” Arran had said evenly, his temper threatening to erupt. “Say what you will of me, but I’ll call out the next man who says a disparaging word against my wife.”
“Mayhap the disparaging word should no’ be said against the lady, but her husband,” Gordon said quietly.
Arran had stood up, spoiling for a good fight. “Say it now, then, lad, and let us resolve it.”
Gordon had shrugged and kept his seat. The men assembled there had remained silent. But they had eyed Arran with suspicion and had merely nodded when he took his leave of them. He’d thundered back to Balhaire, veering off the main road to Kishorn. There, he met with his cousin Griselda and discussed with her what had happened.
Griselda, wise to the ways of the Scots, had frowned when Arran explained Margot’s return and MacLeary’s late-night call at Balhaire. “Aye, but she’s trouble, that one.”
He could not argue Griselda’s suspicions, nor put down his own. “Nevertheless, will you do as I ask, Zelda?”
“Aye, of course,” she’d said, and had seen him off.
What to do about Margot, precisely, had plagued Arran on the return to Balhaire, and now here she was, as bonny as ever.
Arran shrugged out of his coat and dropped it onto a chair. Margot was right behind him, picking it up and dusting it off with her hand. He looked curiously at her.
“I should not like it to appear unkempt.” She suddenly smiled. “I rode down to the cove today,” she said lightly as she carefully folded his coat.
Arran furtively looked around the room again. What the devil was she hiding? “Why?” he asked as casually as he might.
“To take the air.” She leaned back against the chest of drawers, her arms crossed over the folded coat to hold it against her body. He studied her in that casual pose. Margot smiled sweetly.
He glanced at the coat. “Mrs. Abernathy will want to give that a good cleaning.”
“Well, then, I will put it away until she returns.”
“Very well.” He moved to the chest to open one of the drawers for her, but as he reached around her, Margot said, “Actually, it should hang, shouldn’t it? To air it out.” She suddenly let the folds of the coat drop.
But she’d just folded it.
She wrinkled her nose at his look of confusion and said, “It smells of dirt.” She whirled about and walked into his dressing room. He heard her within, hanging the coat. She returned, strolling into the room with her hands at her back.
Arran stood where he was, studying her. “You were never interested in riding or tidying things, aye? What other things have you a sudden desire to do?”
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I asked.”
Pink was slowly settling into her cheeks. “Nothing.”
Diah, she was a horrible liar. “Nothing,” he repeated dubiously as he walked into his dressing room.
He picked up a fresh coat and returned to the main chamber. His wife was leaning against the chest again, and now she was studying a fingernail. “Your friends are still here,” he said.
She looked up, her expression almost hopeful. “My friends?”
“The two fops who saw you here. How long will they be our guests, then? Or do they wait for you?”
The hopefulness bled from her face. “Forme? No.” She shook her head. “Frankly, I don’t know why they’ve remained. I hardly need an escort now that I have been safely delivered to Balhaire. My father is overly cautious.”
One corner of Arran’s mouth tipped up in a wry smile. “Ishe? I never thought him so. In fact, he seemed a wee bit incautious to me, making deals with Scots and God knows who else.” He looked at her pointedly. “Is that no’ so?”
