Page 64 of The Wrong Bride
Now it was Alasdair who frowned. “As your war chief—”
“I ken, ye’d normally go on my behalf. But as I said, I’m the new McCallum, and I need to project strength. Ye’ll accompany me, of course.”
“As will I,” Dermot said.
Hugh debated keeping his tanist at home, but the odds of death were not great. “Very well. And when we return, Alasdair, give me details on thestate of our security. But for now, let us assemble the men in an hour at the training yard and see to preparations.”
Both Alasdair and Dermot turned away stiffly, silently, and Hugh held back a sigh. But then Riona came to him, drying her hands upon a cloth, lifting the gloom that had surrounded him. Dermot didn’t bother to hide the frown he bestowed on her as he left.
Riona looked over her shoulder at Dermot, then turned to Hugh. “He’s upset with me.”
“Ye played the part of my wife too well,” Hugh said lightly. “Ye ruffled Dermot’s feathers by sending for me without consulting him.”
He glimpsed a flicker of worry in her green eyes. “You know I did not mean to overstep my bounds.”
“Ye cared about McCallum cattle—that’s not overstepping your bounds.”
But she continued to stare with concern at the door through which Dermot had disappeared.
To distract her, he asked, “Everyone will live?”
She gave a small smile. “They will, even the ones I cared for myself.” Her smile faded again. “I heard Dermot and Alasdair talking with you. You’re not very popular right now, either, are you?”
He snorted.
“Come, eat some food before you must rush outside.”
She cut meat from the platters of mutton andhares herself, dished him cabbage and kale, nettles and garlic, and as she was pouring him a goblet of wine, noticed that he was staring at her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, turning around as if to look behind her.
“Nay, nothing. Ye’re simply so . . . agreeable.”
Maggie overheard them, and he saw Riona blush.
“Agreeable?” Maggie echoed. “Ye should have seen her in the village this morn. Mrs. Ross is feeling much better after Riona’s advice and care—”
“Maggie,” Riona said with exasperation.
Like they were already close friends, Hugh thought in wonderment and a growing feeling of hope.
“And then she started singing for the children,” Maggie continued. “Singing! I knew she played the spinet beautifully, but her voice—”
“Ye play the spinet?” Hugh asked Riona.
She shrugged. “Remember how my parents liked me to entertain.”
He studied her as if he couldn’t get enough. And for these three nights away, it had seemed like it. During the days he’d been busy, but at night under the stars he’d thought of nothing but Riona, her smile, her kisses, the hope that she’d at last want to marry him and have children together.
Alasdair came bounding in the wide open double doors. “Hugh! We’re waiting. Ye said ye needed to be out here with the men.”
Hugh rose to his feet. “I’m coming.” To his sister and Riona, he said, “Thank ye both for your help and for thinking to alert me when the raid happened.” His eyes lingered on Riona even as he said, “Until the evening then.”
And Riona blushed as if he’d said he’d meet her in bed.
RIONApaced in her room that night, knowing Hugh would not remain in the great hall for long, since they were leaving before dawn to take back their cattle.
She wasn’t used to thinking of men she knew in this sort of danger. Oh, there were always footpads in London, or a hunter’s mistake at a country estate, but this . . . Not that “this” was open battle, but it could be. Hugh had fought British soldiers not that long ago and barely survived.
