Page 14 of Kidnapped By her Highland Enemy
When the laird came in, his dark hair curling around his ruddy skin, and faded great kilt, Cinead acknowledged him with a lift of his glass. “What do I owe yer presence, McKenna?”
He bowed, “Word reached me ears that ye and the Dunns have quite a mystery on yer hands.”
Cinead did not even bother to ask the man how he knew that; McKenna probably did not have anything much to do with his struggling clan but try to eke out his bread from the lands and waters, so gossip reached his ears easily.
“Aye,” Cinead sat his goblet down. “It is so.”
“What do ye ken Laird Barclay is going to do?” McKenna asked.
“If he’s smart, anything,” Cinead scowled, “He is the liar here, I am sure of it. The gall of the dog. How dare he walk into me land, into me house and accusemeof tryin’ to undermine him?”
“Dinnae yer son take his daughter?” McKenna asked. “That sounds like proper cause from him, I’d say.”
Slamming his goblet down, Cinead roared, “Me son did the right thing, to take the lass away while I fetter out the truth. Mark me words, the moment I ken Dunn is lying, his head will be on a pike!”
“Which is yer right,” Laird McKenna nodded sagely. “He shall pay for his crimes. Ye have me full support, Laird Barclay, whatever ye need of me, I’ll be happy to give it.”
Cinead almost laughed. Help—from him? Instead, he lifted his goblet. “Me men can and will take care of this on our own, McKenna. Ye just sit by and watch.”
Staring out at the blue water that stretched as far as the eye could see, Maisie felt confused: why was Lucas being so benign with her? Surely, he had to think that what Heather thought of him were the same ideas running through her mind.
Perhaps nae.
Laird Barclay did not seem as troubled as she were, and the quick looks she stole of him showed a calm, unconcerned face. How was he so serene when every part of her chest was tied into knots? She was worried for her father, worried for what more bloodshed would come from her kidnapping, and worried about what Lucas wanted from her.
Even worse, she felt dearly conflicted when it came to Lucas. She was furious at how he could kidnap her, heartbroken that this feud between the two clans would keep going to infinity and worse, whenever he was near her, a strange static, cracking feeling coasted over her skin. It happened when she felt his eyes run over her, only that shiver was accompanied by her stomach tightening.
Lucas seemed to be untouchable, and she doubted he felt the same disconcerting emotions she felt. Underneath it all, she was exhaustingly tired and felt the need to take a long nap. She would love to wake up and see this night terror away and done with.
She swayed a little, and suddenly felt a broad hand rest in the small of her back. His hold did not hurt, but neither was it comfortable for her. Maisie felt his touch burn right through her dress, as if his skin were bare on hers.
“Easy there, lass,” he cautioned. “I daenae want ye tumbling into the sea.”
Maisie snapped her head to him and saw the sharp jut of his jaw and what looked like a dark shadow on his cheeks. His eyes slid to hers and she jerked her head away, those troubling feelings rearing their ugly heads again. She did not know where they had come from and feared why. He pulled his hand away and she saw him clench his fingers a few times.
“What do ye reckon yer faither is doing now?” he asked.
“Probably nae even noticing that I am gone,” she muttered under her breath. She cleared her throat, “He’s probably accusing yer faither of every crime committed from the dawn of time.”
A snort left his throat. “Funny thing is, me faither might be doing the same.”
She turned to him. “Will ye please put a stop to this nonsense?” she pleaded. “It makes nay sense to keep this fightin’ when we could be supporting each other. Even if nae that, nay more blood needs to be shed.”
Rubbing his face, Lucas shook his head, “I dinnae ken how that will go over with our men, lass. For years, trumping yer soldiers has been a pivotal part of our training.”
Rolling her eyes, she said, “But squabbling over land, over sheep, over bulls, what is the sense of that? Do we even ken why this feud started in the first place? Did yer ancestor box one of mine’s ears?”
“From what I was told, yer forefather stole something mighty precious from mine, his wife-to-be,” Lucas said, his lips twisting. “I ken that is a good reason for a fight.”
“That was over a century ago,” she groaned. “Shan’t we do away with this now? Dozens of women have come and gone and why is that one thing the endless causation of this?”
“Pride can be me clan’s mortal fault, lass,” Lucas shrugged. “And we’re good fighters, which can be a good or bad combination depending on how ye look at it.”
Sighing, Maisie turned to the path, “Hardheadedness is going to be the death of our nation.”
Lucas was silent behind her, and she wondered if he were agreeing with her or not. She would wager not, as she knew the lengths clan pride would take a person. They got to the front door of the house and passed through it with Maisie feeling flustered on all accounts.
He’s handsome, nay doubt. But I shouldnae be feeling this way about him…this pull.
