Page 53 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

Realizing that arguing would only deplete her strength and increase her headache, Fiona did as he asked, deliberately facing away from him. She could hear his deep chuckle and then his hands were on her back, first rubbing the tension in her shoulders, then moving to the center.

She let out a shuddering sigh of relief. It felt marvelous. The tight knots in her lower back began to ease. Fiona felt her entire body start to relax. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she felt him kiss her neck, then lightly nibble a path to her ear.

“Gavin,” she muttered in a warning tone.

“Shh,” he murmured gently. “I’m merely saying good night. Though I dinnae want ye thinking I was too chivalrous that I’d deny myself the chance fer a wee taste of yer sweetness.”

Fiona grinned, the trace of a smile still on her lips when the blissful oblivion of sleep claimed her a few minutes later.

Chapter 11

The shouting from the sentries was heard clearly in the bailey below. Gavin, who had been observing the squires’ morning training on the practice field, immediately rose to his feet. Duncan and Connor joined him, and the three men climbed up the stone stairs to the battlements. They met Aidan coming down.

“The guards have spied a large party on horseback headed this way,” Aidan informed them.

“Soldiers?” Gavin questioned.

Aidan nodded. “Archers, too.”

“Are they flying a battle flag?”

“They’re too far away to be certain.”

“Sound the alarm fer the villagers to remain in their homes,” Gavin commanded. “And put our archers and men on the wall.”

Orders given, Gavin glanced at the keep, his eyes searching for the narrow slit of his bedchamber window. Fiona had stayed abed late every morning this past week, emerging after the noon meal. The first few days she looked pale and wan, but yesterday a spot of color had returned to her cheeks, along with the sparkle in her eyes.

’Twas a good sign that she was feeling better, yet Gavin hoped she would keep to her current pattern and remain in his chamber. It was one of the safest spots in the castle.

“Connor thinks they might be flying the McKenna banner, but they’re still too far away to see it clearly.” Aidan leaned close and whispered, “If I hadn’t seen the king with my own eyes last week, I would say it was him. By all accounts, it looks like a very grand caravan. The soldiers are riding three abreast and their numbers are so large we cannae see the end of the column.”

“We’ve no quarrel with the McKennas,” Duncan exclaimed. “Why would they be marching on us?”

Gavin inwardly groaned. “I see Robert’s hand at work. Apparently, he is more anxious fer me to select a bride than he claimed.”

“We’ve already ruled out the McKenna lass,” Aidan said. “Her fiery temper and matching red hair were more than ye were willing to take on.”

“I remember,” Gavin replied. He shielded his eyes against the sun, straining to get a better look at the approaching riders, searching for the one thing he hoped not to find. “God’s wounds!”

“What? What is it?” Duncan asked anxiously.

“Women,” Gavin grunted. “There are women riding in the middle of the line.”

“Dammit.” Aidan shook his head in sympathy. “Looks like McKenna has decided not to wait fer an offer and instead is bringing a bride to ye.”

“Should we deny them entrance?” Connor suggested.

Gavin scowled at him. “And start a feud?”

“We could say there is sickness within our walls.” Deep in thought, Duncan scrunched his face tightly, then suddenly brightened. “Or the plague. No one will pass through our gates if there is even a hint of plague.”

Gavin groaned and lifted his head toward the sky. The only thing dafter than Duncan’s suggestion was the strong temptation Gavin felt at agreeing with the crazy idea.

“The McLendons are not cowards. We willnae hide behind a lie like a gaggle of weak women,” Gavin admonished. “Go find Hamish and tell him to prepare a fitting meal fer our unexpected guests. I want barrels of our best ale brought up from the cellars for all the McKenna soldiers, too.”

Connor frowned. “Why are we wasting our best ale on that lot?”

“’Cause if things turn nasty, I want McKenna’s men to be plied with drink,” Gavin explained. “I’m sure the captain of their guard will make certain they dinnae lose their senses entirely, but their reactions with sword and bow will be slower.”

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