Page 47 of Laird of Secrets
“Da, which side are you on?” Andrew called out. “We need more players!”
“What sides are we playing today?” Fergus asked.
“Kinnies and Glennies,” Pol said. “Those related to Kinloch, and those not.”
“We are all on the same side,” Ranald called, amid laughter. He swept at the ball with his booted toe. “Nearly had it—damn!”
“What is this?”
Hearing a woman’s voice, Dougal glanced up to see Fiona MacCarran at the outskirts of the circle. He had not seen her for several days, and so looked toward her longer than he should have, long enough for a child to stumble near him. He caught the lad easily.
“Watch out for the little ones, if you please!” she called.
He stretched out an arm to slow those nearest him. “Stop, now. Enough.”
“But we only started—” Pol began.
“Time for class to resume,” Fiona said. The children slowed but did not stop, still pushing the ball around. The teacher walked to the edge of the cluster. “Time for lessons,” she repeated sternly.
“A bit longer, Miss,” Fergus pleaded, while some of the students laughed. “Please,” Fergus added, to more laughter.
Her frown only grew, Dougal noticed, and pretty as it was, it was quite stern. “We must begin lessons again, or the day will be very long,” she said.
“Enough, lads, lasses.” Dougal stepped back, shooing the students away to break up the circle of players. “Listen to your dominie.” He looked at his uncles. “You big lads too.”
“Och, so it’s lessons for you lot,” Fergus said, ruffling Jamie’s red hair. “Good work at the football, laddie.”
Jamie grinned and ran to join the students trudging past their teacher, who stood watching, her mouth set in a prim line that, to Dougal, still looked rosy sweet no matter her temper. He nodded as he approached.
“Good day, Miss MacCarran.” He fisted a hand at his waist. “It is a fine day for a game of the football.”
“It is,” she agreed, “but better done after school. Lessons to be learned first, and play comes after.”
“In school as in life,” he drawled. “Until later, then, Miss MacCarran.”
“Kinloch.” A smile touched her lips, that luscious mouth he had tasted and wanted to again. The feeling tugged at him.
The ball was at his foot. He kicked it with his toe and sent it toward her.
Quickly she raised her skirt hems and punted it back to him with ease, scooping the ball with the top of her foot and sending it upward to land softly at his feet. Dougal halted the ball with his toe and chuckled.
“I am impressed, Miss Dominie,” he said.
“See, Kinloch, I can also play games here in the glen.”
“So I see.” He gave her a long look, and she returned an amused smile before turning toward the schoolhouse. Watching, Dougal smiled to himself. She was stern and lovely, and no doubt her scholars would have extra lessons today.
Picking up the ball, he bounced it in his hands and strolled away toward Kinloch House. In the yard there, Ranald and Fergus waited for him.
“That’s a good lass,” Ranald grunted, jabbing a thumb toward the schoolhouse.
Dougal threw the ball at his uncle. “Keep this, we will need it,” he told his uncles. “And spread the word. We are forming a game. A big one.”
“When? And who will play?” Fergus asked.
“Soon enough, and everyone,” Dougal called back as he went into the house.
* * *
