Page 12 of The Defiance of a Scottish Heart
He left, slamming the door behind him. Sloan had to set Ingelram on him, or he’d get in trouble for sure.
Chapter Four
Taskill
Taskill paced at the top of the wall, waiting for his brother to return. Jasper said, “You’re pacing like an old maid, T. Let it go. Lennox won’t marry you off to someone you don’t approve of.”
The sound he hated to hear caught him. His mother. “Taskill, is Lennox back from visiting that old bird yet?” She wore her mantle this time, the rich red woolen garment wrapped tightly around her.
“Nay, Mama.”
“Come and get me when he returns. No point in him repeating himself.”
Meg flew up the staircase to the top of the curtain wall. “I’ll go tell her when he returns, Taskill. Don’t worry. I’ll handle her.”
“My thanks, Meg. What did I do without you? I lost Eva, but I gained you, thankfully.” He glanced at Meg, wondering why she looked as though she had eaten a mouse. “What?”
She hopped from one foot to the other, then glanced from Jasper to Taskill. “You don’t see it, Taskill?”
“See what?” Taskill asked, confused.
Jasper grinned. “I surely noticed earlier.” The man who was second to the laird when Taskill was busy had an expression on his face that appeared as if he carried the secret to the sea tides.
“Noticed what?” Taskill felt completely ignorant now. What had those two seen that he hadn’t? “Tell me. I’m too worried about being forced to marry on the morrow to see clearly.”
Jasper nodded to Meg, who chuckled and whispered, “Your mother and Dermot.”
“Oh, they do love to argue. I saw that. Just like when Eva and Sloan were the issue. Mama loves to put him in his place.”
Jasper tipped his head back and laughed. “Oh, I think she’d have loved to put him exactly in his place. And the place would be underneath her. I think she would love to be on top.”
“What?” Taskill couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Mama and Dermot?” He jerked his head back and forth between the two grinning faces.
Meg let out a giggle that didn’t stop, and Jasper guffawed more than he’d ever seen him. “Those two? You think?” Taskill couldn’t have been more shocked.
“Oh, the tension in the air when those two go at it is powerful. Dermot would love to throw her down in a pile of hay and mount her like a Grant stallion takes its mare …” Jasper’s sides shook from his laughter.
“Nay, nay, nay!” Taskill yelled. “That’s my mother you are talking about.” He covered his ears and said, “I’ll never believe it. You are both daft.”
“She’s a woman, Taskill,” Meg said.
“I don’t care. Never, ever say that again. Never.” The very idea nearly made him spew over the edge of the wall.
Jasper pointed, noticing Lennox and his well-known gallop coming down the path toward them. “There he is.”
“Thank the Lord above. Does he look pleased or pished?” Taskill asked.
“Taskill,” Meg asked. “Before he gets here, I have to ask. Why aren’t you married? I know your brother was fussy, but you don’t seem to be.”
Jasper choked on the sip of water he’d just taken from his skin. “I’m going down to get Lennox’s horse.”
Taskill knew why Jasper ran. Because no one understood him—Taskill had always been referred to as the more handsome of the two brothers. And true, he was five and twenty and should be married or at the least, betrothed. But he’d had no urge to doso. Oh, he’d been with a few, and many had tried to talk him into marriage.
But something held him back.
Some liked to call him a big flirt, but he didn’t feel that way. He never pursued a lass unless she came to him first. Fear of rejection caused that. He couldn’t help it if he was friendly and happy most of the time. He kept his hair thick, and it turned quite golden in the summer, something he hated to cut. So, he let the loose waves grow, and women loved it.
But lately, he tired of it all. The lasses were pretty, but they all seemed to blend into the same person. They asked the same questions, thought the same way.
