Page 38 of Return to Clan Sinclair
Brianag stood there, arms folded, chin rigid and eyes blazing.
“They’re here, then. The Irish.”
He saw a hand reach out and push her gently away. The doorway was suddenly filled with men. To his surprise, two little redheaded girls wound their way through a forest of legs to stand there staring at them.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but is my mommy here?”
One of the three men gently pushed his way between the girls. Taller than the other two, he had brown hair with a hint of red, cut shorter. All of them shared similar features but his were sharper. His nose was longer and narrower, his chin more pointed. His attire was slightly different in that he wore a jacket while the other men were wearing only shirts and trousers and boots that looked as if they’d tromped through a marsh.
Whoever he was, he seemed to be the leader of the three.
“We’ve come for our sister, Macrath.”
Virginia was looking at the two little girls, one of whom appeared to be about Fiona’s age.
“Darina?”
The older girl nodded and curtsied prettily. “Aunt Virginia?”
The tears puddling in Virginia’s eyes finally spilled down her cheeks as she bent down, held out her arms and said, “Come here, the two of you.”
The little girls flew into their aunt’s embrace as Macrath moved to stand beside Bruce. To his surprise, Carlton came and stood behind the two of them.
“Is that how you come into my house, Dennis Mead?” Macrath asked.
“It is when our sister deserted her home and her children. She didn’t tell any of us where she was going. Nor did she answer our letters once she was gone.”
Macrath took a step forward. “She was a member of my family first, Dennis. Would you dispute that?”
“I wouldn’t. But I’d like to know why she came to Scotland and left her children behind.”
“She didn’t leave her children behind,” Virginia said. “She came to see her family. She trusted her children in your care.”
Dennis frowned at her but didn’t speak. Instead, he directed his attention to Bruce.
“This is Ardan,” he said, pointing to the man with the red beard to his left. He glanced toward the man to his right, clean shaven with the brightest orange-red hair Bruce had ever seen. “This is Breandan, and I’m Dennis, the fifth Duke of Lester. And who would you be?”
As an American, he wasn’t impressed by titles, especially if a man only had to be born to get one.
“Bruce Preston. The man who’s going to save her,” he said.
He pushed through the three men, shoving at Ardan, almost wanting the man to take a swing at him. He was a damn good brawler when he had to be, and right at the moment he felt like planting his fist in someone’s face.
The man let him pass, and he dismissed the three of them from his thoughts, intent on finding Ceana.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
“What did he mean by that?”
Dennis entered the room fully, coming to stand only a foot from Macrath.
“What did he mean, save her?”
“Someone’s kidnapped Ceana,” he said.
He explained the situation, the look of rage deepening on the faces of his Irish brothers-in-law. Good, they wouldn’t have any hesitation in punishing Paul Henderson, law or no law.
For the first time since he’d learned Ceana had been taken, his mood lightened.
