Page 48 of The Lyon and the Unicorn
“Will ye not tell the lass to be silent?” James sneered. “I’ll not be wanting to hear a woman’s nagging in my home.”
Duncan caught his sleeve. “James,” he said softly. The two exchanged a glance, and Duncan shook his head.
At length, James sighed. “I suppose Da’s told ye where he’s been today,” he said.
“Joan said he’s with the McCallum,” Murdo replied. “He’s still there.”
“Fuck,” James muttered.
The duchess’s eyes widened.
“Brother,” Murdo growled.
A gong sounded in the hallway, and James let out another curse. Shortly after, Joan appeared.
“Master James, I thought I heard ye! Hurry and tidy yerself up—supper’s ready.”
James turned to the ghillie. “Get yerself gone, Duncan.”
The ghillie frowned, a flicker of hurt in his eyes, then he nodded. “Aye, Master James.” He bowed to Clara and her mother. “Yer Grace, Miss Martingale, a pleasure to meet ye.”
“Don’t ye be goinganywhere, Duncan,” Joan said. “Ignore Master James—he’s like a stag with a sore belly today. Come into the kitchen. Morag’s got a bite of stew for ye.”
“Duncan,” Murdo called, as the ghillie turned to leave, “would ye show the duchess and Miss Martingale about the estate during her stay? There’s none who know the land hereabouts better than ye.”
“Aye, Master Murdo, I will.”
“You’re very kind,” the duchess said. “Mr. McTavish has been telling me all about the stag. I’m sure my daughter would love to hear about it.”
“Oh yes,” Clara said. “I want to learn everything about life here.”
“Duncan’s not got time to waste showingladiesabout,” James said.
“Master James, ye’re not too old to take the strap,” Joan said. “Be off with ye and clean yerself up—our guests don’t want to eattheir supper with that stench on ye. Duncan, get yerself to the kitchen before I take a strap to ye also.”
The ghillie exited the chamber followed by James.
Clara stared after them, a thoughtful expression in her eyes. Then she took Murdo’s arm and he led her out of the hall.
“Don’t mind James,” he said. “He doesn’t take well to strangers.”
“Like your dog?”
He nodded.
But James would take a great deal more persuasion than Buck to warm to Clara.
Chapter Ten
The dining roomat Murdo’s home was almost as big as the great hall, with an equally large fireplace, in which a fire blazed and crackled. The dog lay in front of the fire, occasionally jumping as a spark flew out, before settling down with a sigh, his dark eyes focused on the diners.
Mama sat across the table, her face glowing in the candlelight. Murdo’s brother sat beside her.
While Murdo and Mama discussed the process of hunting a stag, James ate in silence. His gaze remained fixed on his plate, though it occasionally flicked toward the empty place at the end of the table.
“Doyouhunt stag, Mr. McTavish?” Clara asked.
James paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, and met her gaze. His eyes were the same color as Murdo’s, but unlike his brother’s their expression conveyed wariness and apprehension, as if he expected a beating merely for existing.
