Page 2 of Claimed By the Heartless Highlander
Maisie was frowning thoughtfully. “Ye’ll nae find a laird like that among those who are usually in attendance at clan events and Highland gatherings.”
“Nay, ye willnae,” Leona agreed. “If ye want a man of that sort, ye’ll need to go seeking a ‘Beast’ of yer own. One of the secluded lairds, like Maisie’s husband used to be.” She shot an apologetic glance at Keith, but the warrior waved it off.
Ailis blinked at Keith, her eyes wide. “I dinnae ken if I could do somethin’ like that…”
Keith chuckled. “And it’s completely all right, Ailis. Nae every lass is as wild and wayward as me wife. Though, I’ll have ye ken, I’m far from the worst of the ‘Beasts’ in the Highlands.” His dark eyes sparkled with rare amusement and mischief. “I may have me faults, as me lady is fairly quick to remind me, but at least I’m human, and nae a wraith or one of the Fae-cursed.”
“I didnae ken there was anyone like that. There isnae… is there?” Ailis frowned.
“There’s one I ken. Some years back, there was a laird whose castle was burned and his lands ravaged by a rival clan. I never learned what the dispute was about, nor what happened that night, but ‘tis said that most if nae all of his family died.”
Keith shook his head, regret on his face. “Nae long after the fire, the the main settlements disappeared. The borders of the clan closed, and nay one, ally or enemy, has seen aught of the Laird since. ‘Tis whispered in the gatherings that he perished in the fire but still haunts the ruins of the castle, swearin’ vengeance on those who destroyed his clan and his home.”
“Surely ‘tis just a story, though. He’d have to live, or else his clanspeople and the lands would have been taken over by another clan, would they nae?” Ailis bit her lip, half fearful and half fascinated.
“I cannae say for certain. His lands are close to me borders, close enough that I’ve ridden along the borders a fair number of times. Still, I’ve never seen hide nor hair of the Laird himself, and only seen few folk wearin’ his clan’s tartan. And I’m certain he’s never attended any of the gatherings of the major clans.” Keith shook his head. “I’ll nae swear to the tale’s truth or falsehood either way, beyond being certain that the castle burned.”
“How do ye ken?”
Keith grimaced. “Because one night, the guards reported seein’ a sort of red blaze in that direction. A glow like battle and enemy bonfires, though none of our clan riders ever reported danger. The air was thick with smoke, and some of the streams running through their land and ours were ash-gray for days after.”
Maisie studied her husband’s face with a thoughtful expression. “I think I heard some of the same tale… Who was the Laird ye’re referrin’ to?”
“Laird Muir.”
CHAPTER2
Maisie grimaced.“I thought it was a familiar story. Caelan told me about Laird Muir and his disappearance nae long after it happened. But from the way Caelan spoke of him, he was a harsh, cold man, and there were few who cared enough that they tried to find him or thought to look close enough to see if he or any of his kin survived the fire that burned his castle to the ground.”
Ailis looked at her hands. On the one hand, the idea of encountering a man like that scared her, let alone living with him. On the other hand, the story Keith had regaled them with sounded a bit like it might be right out of some of the old legends, or the romances she adored.
There was something intriguing about the image of a lonely man haunting the ruins of his home, mourning all he had lost. Maybe waiting for the right woman to come and take his sadness away…
A knock on the door broke her daydream, and made all of them look up. One of the servants stood in the doorway, a nervous expression on her face. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Me Laird, Me Lady, but there’s a laird here wantin’ to speak to ye and one of yer guests.”
For a brief moment, Ailis had a wild thought that perhaps Laird Muir really was some sort of Fae apparition or a ghost, summoned by their discussion. But before her imagination could run wild, Keith rose from his seat, adopting a watchful stance.
“And did he give his name, this laird who’s come callin’?”
“He said he’s Laird MacMicking. And he wants to speak to Lady Ailis in particular. Said her faither sent him on a matter of some import and delicacy.”
Ailis suppressed an unladylike exclamation.
I can well guess what “important and delicate” matter me faither sent him to discuss with me.
MacMicking was the name of a small clan, one that shared a border with her father’s lands. She couldn’t recall that she’d ever met their Laird. Still, Ailis nodded when Keith looked at her. It wouldn’t hurt to at least be courteous enough to meet with this Laird, since he’d made the effort to seek her out. And if he was ill-tempered or otherwise unpleasant, she knew her friends would provide a shield and an excuse for her if needed.
Minutes later, the door opened, and Laird MacMicking stepped into the room.
Ailis felt her heart sink. The Laird was older, nearly her father’s age, with grey hair that turned white in places, and fine lines around his mouth and eyes. He was slender—reedy rather than slim—and his belly showed signs of softening with age and perhaps indulgence.
He looked kindly enough, but there was an air of confidence and assurance that reminded her far too much of the man who’d raised her. Like her father, his smile was warm, and his demeanor was polite, but there was a faint hint of condescension when he met her gaze.
She loved her father dearly, but she had no interest in being wed to a man like him for the rest of her life. Particularly not one who looked at her like she was a scatter-brained child playing at adulthood before he’d even spoken a word to her.
Laird MacMicking greeted Keith and Maisie politely, before focusing on her and ignoring the rest of the ladies in the room. The action wasn’t overtly discourteous, as he might not recognize them. He wouldn’t have seen them save at Highland gatherings, which tended to be loud and chaotic affairs in which the men and women were often split for various tasks. None of their clans were especially large or influential, so unless he was the sort to pay attention to everyone equally, he likely hadn’t made more than passing note of the marriages and had no idea who they were.
He was even less likely to recognize they were all Ladies of their respective clans. It was a small and understandable error in judgment, but it served to reinforce her feelings about him.
