“It’s aboot appearances.”
“It’s aboot being able to spend time together, Magnus. Ye’re leaving for a sennight. Then ye’re bound to head back to Mackenzie territory soon. You’ve been here nearly three sennights.”
“Nay. Seamus kens I came here for an extended visit. At least two moons, if nae longer. He encouraged it. Saoirse, someone might send me away, but this is yer home. I dinna want to leave ye here in disgrace. It was one thing to leave the walls with the children as our chaperones, but we’ve pushed our luck talking as often as we did in your workroom. Straying away from the market risks much for ye.” Magnus wouldn’t hesitate to defend Saoirse’s honor and slay anyone mad enough to question it. But what would he do if it was their own family who doubted it?
They made their way along the path to the cliffs. As they passed the loch, Saoirse pointed to the far side.
“Do ye remember when Tate and Wee Liam raced each other across, certain they were the fastest swimmers in the clan?” Mairghread’s son and the oldest grandchild, Wee Liam bore the moniker, so people wouldn’t confuse him for his grandfather and namesake.
“Aye. I remember how ye and Rose and Shona dove in after them and stayed under water so long I thought I would have to tell yer mothers a fish swallowed ye.”
“Tate and Wee Liam were livid when they reached the shore, and the three of us were already sitting there.” Saoirse giggled as she recalled her oldest cousin, Liam, visiting from Castle Varrich, where he lived with his parents, Mairghread and Tristan Mackay. “If Wee Liam had listened to his mama, he might have won. Only Rose, Shona, and I listened to Auntie Mairghread’s strategy. It worked.”
“Wars would be won with yer aunt’s strategies.”
Magnus watched Saoirse as she laughed, her entire face radiating her amusement. She seemed completely at ease with him, so it made him wonder if she wasn’t as shy as he recalled. Perhaps she was like her father and merely reserved.
“Saoirse!”
They stopped as two young men rode toward them from the woods. Magnus squinted into the sun, trying to identify the pair. He didn’t recognize either of them. They weren’t part of the laird’s family, but they appeared close to Saoirse’s age. When she shifted, he looked down and saw her body language change from a moment ago. She seemed to shrink. No longer did she appear confident or jovial. This was the shy woman he thought of when Saoirse used to come to mind.
“Hello, Nicholas, Conan.”
“What’re ye doing outside the gates without a guard?”
Saoirse stared before she tilted her head to meet Magnus’s gaze.
“Last I checked, a clan tánaiste is qualified to be a guard.” Magnus inhaled, his chest broadening. Both men were clearly warriors, but their smugness irritated Magnus as they looked down at him—literally and figuratively.
“Ye’re nae a Sinclair guard.”
“Nicholas!” Saoirse’s eyes were wide as saucers. “He was for years.”
She didn’t look at the offensive young man, instead watching Magnus. He wished to ease her fears that he would retaliate. He loathed seeing her worry how he might react. He never wanted her to fear being near him.
“Laird Sinclair gifted me ma sword when I became a member of his guard. I didna have a grandda or da to do it, so he and Callum presented it to me as a fosterling within their clan and keep. It’s kept me alive for more than a score of years because it was the Sinclairs who taught me to wield it. Do ye nae think me capable?”
“Saoirse, does yer da ken ye’re out here without a guard?”
This time it was Conan who spoke. It mortified Saoirse. She wished to hide behind Magnus’s back and pretend they’d never stopped. Or better yet, she wished they could be on the beach instead of on the path. The young men’s behavior embarrassed her, and she disliked conflict.
“Nicholas, Conan, ye owe Óg yer apologies. Ye canna speak to a tánaiste, a guest, or the laird’s family like that. Óg is all three. I will speak to ma da aboot this. Go back to the keep.”
“And leave ye alone with—”
“Conan, go.” Saoirse infused all the authority her petite frame could muster into her command.
“Straight to yer da, Saoirse. Alex will want to ken.” Nicholas smirked.
“LadySaoirse and I are going to the beach, so ma lady can gather the algae she needs.” Among the many things that irked Magnus about this conversation, he didn’t care for the informality with which these young men addressed Saoirse. They may have known each other since they were weans, but as an adult, she was due her title. That was at the very least. He didn’t care for how they asserted themselves and attempted to dictate to her. She was well above their station.
“Alone?”
“Conan, how would it be any different from when Albert accompanies me? Óg and Albert are the same age and trained together when they were lads. Da has nay objection to me leaving the keep with just Albert.”
“He’s a Sinclair.”
Saoirse didn’t know what to say. They were going around in circles. All she wanted was time with Magnus to talk and enjoy each other’s company.
