Page 8 of Highland Renegade
“The room has a wonderful medieval feel to it and the unusual staircase as well.” She gave him another of her sister’s smiles. “I love medieval history so I am sure I will be quite happy living in this castle.”
He looked a little disconcerted, then he gave a brief bow. “Enjoy your dinner then.”
She allowed herself a genuine smile as he walked away. The games had begun.
…
“I doona think I was really expecting better news, but there’s naught we can do,” Carr said the next afternoon as the brothers met in the library once more.
Ian looked at the somewhat smoothed deed Carr had put on the desk. “The solicitor says ’tis legal, then?”
“Aye.” Carr helped himself to the open bottle of whisky. “Even if Lord Mount Stuart is successful in getting our clan cleared this year, only the lands annexed as leaseholds would be returned.”
“Mayhap we should get a second opinion?” Rory asked.
Ian shook his head. “Carr’s going to Oban was risky enough, since we are MacGregors. I willna risk anyone going to Fort William.”
Alasdair nodded. “Too many soldiers with ne’r much to do might enjoy arresting a MacGregor.”
“To say nothing of the Camerons around the place,” Rory said.
“We never ken which way the wind blows with them,” Alasdair replied.
Cameron lands bordered theirs to the north. In the past, when all clans had been forbidden to give aid to any MacGregor who hadn’t changed his surname, the Camerons had taken particular delight in cattle-reiving, knowing the MacGregors could file no complaint. That had, of course, resulted in MacGregors responding in kind and adding a sheep or two for good measure. Ian almost grinned as he recalled the stories his grandfather had told. The cattle, like the clan, had disappeared into the mists, causing folks to speak of fae help or, for the more superstitious, that the clan itself consisted of changelings…which might actually have been useful at the darkest point in their history. Recently, especially after Culloden, there had been an uneasy truce, oft broken, between the Camerons and MacGregors.
“I agree with Alasdair. ’Tis nae worth the risk of clashing with either soldiers or Camerons.” Ian opened a desk drawer and tossed the deed into it. “For now, at least, our people think the countess is here on a lengthy visit. Only we four—and Fiona—know about the deed.”
“And where is Fiona?” Alasdair asked. “I’ve nae seen her today.”
“She invited the Sassenachs to the solar this morning,” Ian answered. “She said she was going to show them around the castle and gardens.”
“Do ye think that wise?” Carr asked. “When they see the modern half they will wonder why—”
“’Tis the point, brother,” Rory said. “They have to realize they are nae welcome without our saying it. ’Tis brilliant.”
“Until she decides to wield her authority and choose her own room,” Carr answered.
Ian’s conscience niggled at him again, although he pushed it aside. “Last eve she said she liked living in a medieval castle.”
“That was before she kenned what the rest of the place looked like,” Alasdair said. “And if she decides to exert her ownership rights, then the whole clan will ken about the deed.”
“We can still deny it,” Rory said. “We can say Carr took the deed to the solicitor—which is true—and we are going to make sure ’tis authentic.”
“Didna I just do that?” Carr asked.
Rory waved a hand. “’Twas the solicitor’s opinion, naeours.”
“Regardless,” Carr answered, “I think Ian needs to talk with the countess about what she intends.”
“And it would nae hurt to apologize to the ladies and offer them better rooms,” Alasdair added.
Rory frowned at him. “Are ye going soft on the fae-looking one?”
Alasdair frowned back. “Do ye ken nothing about women? If ye expect one to do what ye want, ye have to offer her something she wants first.”
“When did ye become an expert on women, little brother?”
“I was nae the one who got rejected leading the ladies into dinner last night.” Alasdair quirked his mouth up. “Ye were, if I recall correctly.”
