Page 71 of Highland Renegade
“But that is exactly why we should go!Allof us, nae just ye men,” Fiona said.
“Nobody is going to try to poison one of us,” Alasdair pointed out.
“We are MacGregors,” Rory added.
“So is Fiona,” Juliana retorted, “and Glenda as well.”
He glowered at her. “Fine. We will take them with us then.”
“If the Sassenachs stay away, our sister and Glenda should be safe,” Devon said.
“Aye.” Broderick nodded. “Nae a soul would harm them.”
Fiona gave each of them an annoyed look. “Are ye all daft? Have ye nae considered that if Emily and her sisters stay behind, it will be a clear insult to the Campbells?” She looked at Ian. “I doubt we would have been invited at all had it nae been that Emily is an English countess. I am sure Gavin Campbell will be expecting her and her sisters to attend.”
Ian didn’t need to be reminded about Gavin. He remembered all too well the interested look in the man’s eyes and his remarks about coming to call. Thank God he hadn’t made a habit of it. Yet. But his sister was right. Not bringing them would be seen as an offense. Even worse, speculation might start rumors about the attempted murder. Rumors had a vicious way of escalating. Someone else might try to do the same. Instead of having one traitor to flush out, he would have more.
“If I might interject?” Emily asked. “Fiona is quite right on two counts. First, if I do not attend, your clansmen will wonder why. If we hope to keep the attempt to…harm me a secret, then they will assume that I consider myself above them. I will not have that. Secondly, if Lord Bute is in attendance, or the Duke of Argyll himself, either will wonder why I am not present.” She looked at Ian’s brothers. “And, unfortunately, in aristocratic circles, that would indeed be an insult.”
Ian held up a hand before anyone could argue. What Emily said made sense. They couldn’t afford to insult either the earl or the duke. “We are all going,” he said, “and I expect each of ye”—he looked around the room slowly, making sure each one understood his meaning—“to protect our lady.”
“She is nae our lady,” Devon muttered. “Nae a MacGregor—”
“Enough!” Ian glared at him. Must his brother always make a point of that? He didn’t want to be forced into a position where he had to make a choice between Emily and his family. And yet, he felt he was being pushed into doing just that.
…
After Emily finished breakfast the next morning—she’d managed to get from her chamber to the small dining room without a guard, or at least not one whom she saw, although she thought she’d heard footsteps behind her—Ian escorted her, her sisters, and Fiona to the solar.
“At least two of ye need to stay with Em—the countess—at all times,” he said, the tone of his voice brooking no argument. “Do ye understand?”
Fiona looked heavenward. “We are nae daft, brother.”
He nodded curtly. “I will depend on ye, sister.”
She shook her head after he left. “I wonder why he thinks he needs to call ye “countess” or “Lady Woodhaven” when we all ken he kissed ye.”
Lorelei giggled and Emily felt her face heat as though she’d just gotten too close to the hearth. Ian had not mentioned the kiss since, nor had he attempted to find a bit of privacy for them to indulge again. She was beginning to think she actually was a ninny. Men were always willing to steal a kiss, especially if the lady was willing. And she had been willing. Her cheeks warmed further. She had evenencouragedhim, but she didn’t regret it. Even now, she could recall every minute detail. How soft, yet firm, his lips were and how warm. How strong, yet gentle, his hands had been as they’d cradled her head. How he had tasted slightly of buttery toast and how the faint, fresh scent of soap clung to him. Still, the kiss had probably meant much more to her. Given her hapless marriage and lack of prior experience, Ian’s kiss had been the first to arouse her. He was probably quite used to that effect on women. She frowned. That idea was not appealing at all.
“Doona fash.” Fiona apparently misread her grumpy expression. “My brother will get to the bottom of this.”
“I am sure he will.”
Fiona went to the door, opened it a crack, then closed it again. “Just as I thought. He posted a guard in the hall.” She smiled at Emily. “Ye will be fine.”
For a brief, fleeting moment while she was lost in her woolgathering, she hadn’t thought about reality.Ninny, she chided herself. Ian was seeing to her safety while she was indulging in silly fantasies. Those footsteps she’d thought she heard earlier had probably been this guard. “I wonder what he told the man? We are trying to keep the news of the incident from spreading.”
“Doona fash about that, either,” Fiona said as she took her seat again. “’Tis Hamish’s younger brother, John. He’ll have been sworn to silence.”
Juliana gave her a skeptical look. “But will an armed man following Emily around not draw attention?”
“He will nae appear armed.” Fiona grinned. “But he usually carries a half-dozen knives hidden about his person.”
Juliana blinked and Lorelei stared at her wide-eyed. “Why?”
“He likes knives.” Fiona shrugged. “All Highlanders carry at least one, if nae more.”
Emily immediately began to wonder where Ian might have stashed his on his person and then felt her face warm once more. What had gotten into her thinking this morning? Was she feeling some odd, long-lasting effect of the hemlock?
