Page 46 of Saved By the Highland Beast
“Sophia will nae be left alone even for a second,” Anthony said with a clenched jaw.
“An’ I will cut down any man that dares come near us!” Cillian shouted as he jumped up from under the table and brandished his wooden sword.
“Cillian!” Dean shouted. “This was a private meetin’. Ye were nae supposed to be listenin’,” he admonished.
“But, Faither! Ye didnae even ken I was here. I’m small enough to protect Miss Harrison with stealth an’ cut down any man that crosses her path!” Cillian said with conviction and waved his sword in the air.
“Very well,” Dean relented with a sigh. “Anthony an’ Cillian will protect Sophia while Hamish patrols the borders.”
Nessie yapped as she too bounded from beneath the table, and Cillian whooped.
Dean shook his head as the others stood to leave, their chairs scraping across the floor. He hadn’t wanted to involve Cillian in the plans, but it seemed as if he wouldn’t be having a say in the matter.
“I’ll go and prepare the men for patrols,” Hamish said.
“An’ I’ll go an’ get someone to train the lads while I’m busy protectin’ Sophia,” Anthony added. “I want to be sure that all of me time is free.”
“Good men,” Dean praised them as Cillian bounded after them and left the hall with Nessie on his heels. “Ye didnae say much,” he said to Sophia as she stared at the table.
“I’m just touched that everyone wants to protect me,” she admitted almost tearfully.
Leaning down, Dean pressed a tender kiss to her lips before drawing away. “We all love ye, Sophia. Naebody in this castle will ever let anythin’ happen to ye. I promise ye that.”
* * *
Dean surveyed the throng of people in the village square as they went about their daily business. He’d checked with all the local inn owners and even stopped at every stall to ask if any visitors had come to the village, citing the excuse that he wanted to keep a closer eye on the well-being of his people. Nobody had seen anything besides a few people staying at the inn.
He busied himself by looking at stalls while he kept an eye on the passing crowd. The village square was slightly emptier than usual due to the snow that was still falling, but there were more than enough people to hide his presence.
“Good day, my laird,” an elderly woman with a grey shawl greeted him as he passed her stall of herbs. “I trust that the herbs I sent to the castle are all still in good supply? Or will ye be needin’ some fresh ones today?”
“Mornin’, Maggie,” he greeted in his gruff manner. “The herbs are all fine. I was just checking the village to see if everythin’ is in order. Have ye been makin’ a lot of sales of late?” he asked in a roundabout way.
“Mighty kind if ye, my laird. Business has been good. What with this cold weather an’ all, everyone has some ailment or the other that needs fixin’.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “Any visitors to the village come by for any herbs?”
“Just a family travelling.” Maggie paused. “There was one gentleman that came by an’ asked for something to soothe his dry skin. It seems the gentleman left home in a hurry an’ wasnae prepared for the harsh Scottish winter.” She looked up again. “Very nice man. I think he said he was headed to the bakers after here.”
“Thank ye, Maggie,” Dean said gruffly before turning to face the other end of the street. He quickly spotted a man with blonde hair in a bright green coat coming from inside the bakery. Walking fast, he made his way across the snow-covered road and past the stalls, gaining ground on the man. “I’m sorry!” he exclaimed as he bumped into the man, gripping his arm before he slipped. “I didnae see ye there, lad.”
“That’s quite all right,” the man said in an English accent, smiling. He had bright blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a pleasant face.
Dean watched his every move to try and gauge his character.
“Luke Johnson.” The man stuck out his hand with a smile.
“Dean O’Brien, Laird of McGill Castle.” Dean relaxed a little and shook the man’s hand. It was highly unlikely that a stalker would be so friendly and introduce himself to a stranger if he was trying to keep a low profile, he reasoned. “What brings ye to these parts of Scotland?”
“Just passing through on my way to see my betrothed,” Luke said openly. “My father is the Earl of Montgomery. We often pass through Scotland and visit some of the castles. Perhaps you have met my father before?” he asked with a quizzical eyebrow.
“Nay, I cannae say that I have,” Dean admitted. “I may have met him once at a feast, but it’s hard to remember.”
“Of course,” Luke said politely. “I’m sure you must meet many people as a laird. It’s understandable that you wouldn’t remember every single person you met.”
Dean let out a breath of relief. “Well, I dinnae want to keep ye any longer. I hope ye enjoy your stay in the village.”
“Thank you, I’m sure I will.” Luke smiled again. “I have one or two things to see to before I go on my way again, but it was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Laird McGill.”
