Page 71 of Desiring the Highland Laird
For a moment, annoyance flashed in those deep brown eyes. It was quickly followed by understanding but even so, she couldn’t resist one last barb.
“Right. So you men can talk without me being around. I get it.”
Then she did something that completely shocked him. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. When she stepped back, there was a warm smile on her face. A smile that said she understood far too well what was about to happen. She walked away with the swing of her small hips. He watched her go, his cheek still tingling where she’d kissed him.
Aye, he wanted to speak to his younger brother without her in the room. There were things left unsaid between them when Argyle swooped in and took the lad away.
Jamie gave a low whistle. “A bonnie lass, indeed.”
“And ye’ll stay away from her,” Callum nearly barked.
Jamie blinked innocently. “Why so cross, brother? I mean her no harm.”
“Yer a cad and ye ken it.”
“Aye,” Argyle said, then, his face pinched with the fury he had masked before. “Tis why we returned. The lad and his errant roguish ways have caused me enough trouble.”
“So, that’s the right of it, then,” Callum said. “Yer return is because of him.”
“I did nothing,” Jamie said, sounding cross.
“Would ye like to explain yer behavior in France, then?” Argyle snapped. Fire flashed in his one good eye.
“I would not.” Jamie ambled back to the table and sat, propping his boots on the edge. “I did nothing wrong.”
“Ye did everything wrong,” Argyle said.
Jamie pulled out the dagger at his side and picked at the dirt under his nails, ignoring them both. Malcolm glanced from his younger brother to his older brother, a look of bemusement on his face.
“We can discuss that later,” Callum said. “What we need to discuss is the consequences of ye spurning the MacDonald lass.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “That again?”
“Ye dinnae understand the conflict that was set into motion with yer behavior,” Malcolm snapped. “Da is dead because ofyou.”
“I dinnae kill Da,” Jamie said, glaring at Malcolm. “I wasna even here.”
“Ye did,” Malcolm insisted.
Callum held up his hands for silence. “What Malcolm means is that the MacDonalds were angered by breaking the handfasting.”
“She dinnae produce a bairn,” Jamie said, as if that was all that mattered.
But if he knew his youngest brother—and he did—there was likely more to the story than what Jamie was letting on. The ire of the MacDonalds was why Jamie was whisked off to travel with their uncle and even that appeared to have failed to tame the little knave.
“Aye. Likely because ye dinnae tup her properly,” Malcolm said. Then added with a sneer, “Or at all.”
Jamie took offense to that and jumped to his feet, his fists clenched tight and his face red with rage. “Ye ken nothing of that, brother.”
Malcolm rose to his feet, his hands also fisted at his side. Callum realized he had to step in between them before they came to blows. Thankfully, he was bigger and taller than the both of them and shoved himself between them, pushing them apart.
“’Tis enough, both of ye,” he said, his tone low and warning. “Fighting between us will no get us anywhere. We must find a way to broker peace with Rory MacDonald.”
“There is no way to broker peace.” Malcolm moved away from them and sat on the other side of the table, putting distance between him and Jamie, which was probably for the best.
“We must find a way.” Callum eyed Jamie, who shoved away from him and returned to his seat at the end of the table.
“What do ye want from me, brother?” Jamie asked. “I cannae take the lass back.”
