Taken by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader with android os TXT) 📕

“May I introduce my father, Sir William Hepburn, Lord High Chamberlain,” Laird said, his voice tight.  Angry?  “Father, this is Mistress Thomas.”

Sir William offered a short bow and Scarlett dipped a curtsey as she had seen some of the other ladies do.  If nothing else, she was a good enough actress to blend in.  “How do you do?”

“Verra well,” he said in a chilly voice then speared Laird with his flint-like gaze.  “My wife tells me that my sons found ye at Dunskirk during a Lindsay raid yet they welcome the clanswoman of my enemy as a guest in my castle.”

“Father…”

Sir William cut him off with a look that whisked away any familiarity he shared with his son.  While Laird had shot her looks containing heat of anger and passion, nothing in his eyes had ever been so cold.  An Azkaban dementor couldn’t have produced such a sudden chill!  “I would have words wi’ ye, James.  In private.”

Laird stiffened beside her.  She felt more than saw his curt nod.  What an awkward moment.  Hardly like she would have imagined meeting anyone’s parents.

“My apologies, Father,” Rhys said quietly, coming up behind Sir William.  “The King would hae a word wi’ ye before he retires.  Ye as well, I’m afraid,” he directed this to Laird.  So it hadn’t been just a rescue attempt then.

Sir William cast around one last sour glance before he turned on his heel and left them.  Laird looked down at Scarlett but his gaze, so warm and open all evening, was shuttered and closed.  “I maun apologize for my father’s rudeness, Scarlett.  There are other issues at play ye dinnae understand.”

Explain them to me, she wanted to say.  Scarlett had wondered at Lady Ishbel’s malice but his father’s coldness was little better.  She wanted to know the reasons behind it but this was not the time.

“You shouldn’t keep the King waiting.  I hear monarchs hate that.”

Just a hint of humor flashed in his eyes before it dulled once more.  “Indeed they do.”

“Dinnae worry, Laird,” Rhys said jauntily.  “I shall see Scarlett to her rooms.”

“Safely to her rooms,” Laird corrected but with a nod, departed.

Scarlett’s eyes followed him until he was lost in the crowd before she turned back to Rhys.  To her surprise, his gaze was troubled.

“What is it?”

“I worry for ye, my dear.”

“For me?” she asked.  “You should be worried for him.  My parents may not have been the best in the world but at least they had some warmth.  They cared about me.”

“I cannae excuse my mother, but our father favors Laird,” Rhys said.

“If that’s an example of his favor, I’d hate to see what his disapproval looks like.”

Rhys only shook his head.  “It might no’ show, but I think our father genuinely regrets that Laird isnae his legitimate son, his heir.”

Scarlett scoffed at that.  If Sir William cared so much for Laird, he would have acknowledged him as his heir if it were true and not just admit as much in a drunken stupor.

“They are actually quite similar beings, ye see.”

“I doubt that.”  Comparing the two men was like equating the icy hell of Hoth to the raging fires of Modor.

“Nay, lass.  Look at Laird.  He can be as imperfect as he pleases, doing what he likes.  He is laird of himself, if nothing else.  Yet even wi’out the position in name to do so, he commands everyone he meets.  Just like our father.  Including our father in many ways,” Rhys said with a laugh.  “We all love him, myself included.”

“Yet you constantly goad him just to rile him up.”

Rhys shrugged.  “How else am I to show my love?”

22

“I wish I were going with you, Scarlett.”

Scarlett caught her wistful expression and hugged Aileen tightly, whispering in her ear.  “I wish you were, too.  Aleizia will be so busy with Patrick, I will have only Laird and Rhys for company along the way.”

As they parted, a smile brightened Aileen’s vivid blue eyes.  “What a torturous labor for you.  Perhaps I shan’t envy you at all!  Promise you’ll write me and let me know how my brothers fare?  They are horrible correspondents, all.”

“I will but don’t worry over them, okay?  We will all see you soon.”

A shadow passed across the girl’s eyes.  “I wish that you might be able to promise me that.”

“I can,” Rhys assured her, leading his mount along behind him as he came to her side.  “Ye well ken that I am too arrogant to die.  Hae I no’ said so before?”

“A hundred times!”  Aileen flung herself into her brother’s arms and squeezed him.  “I shall hold you to it this time.”

“Ye hae my promise as well, Sweeting.”

Laird appeared behind them and braced himself as his sister turned and hugged him fiercely too.

Over Aileen’s head, Laird’s silvery eyes met hers. Once again he wore his worn and faded kilt and linen shirt without even a vest or doublet to subdue the impact of his broad chest.  She much preferred him like this rather than in the finery of the previous night.  His savage magnetism was undeniable.

She hadn’t seen him since he’d left her the previous night, but this morning a buxom young woman named Maris had appeared at her door and introduced herself as Scarlett’s new maid and companion.  Her duty, Maris informed her, was to see that Scarlett was ready to travel and to accompany her for propriety’s sake.  While picking out a half-dozen dresses for Scarlett to take along with her, Aleizia had explained why Scarlett required a chaperone as a young, unmarried woman traveling among the soldiers.

It was an amusing concept since Scarlett had been kidnapped forcibly and traveled alone with a dozen Hepburn clansmen without any one of them worrying for her reputation.  She didn’t see much of a point in starting now but Maris was insistent and helpful in carrying along the heavy valise Aleizia had packed for her.  Now it and Maris were safely aboard a small wooden cart being pulled by another of Laird’s