“I would not.”
The old man threw back his head and laughed, his round belly bobbing up and down enough to make his kilt sway and his cheeks reddening with the effort. Once he’d finally composed himself, he faced Alexander and bowed. “I like ye, Alexander MacCoinnich. Ye are a braw man. Fierce. Protective. Canny.”
Alexander didna trust compliments. They often shielded lies. “Is there anything else?” He motioned toward the door behind him. “I need to be getting’ back to me wife.”
Munroe grew quiet, his expression thoughtful. “I hope one day ye will come to trust me, sir, and realize I’ve only the best of intentions.”
“That remains to be seen,” Alexander replied, tapping the barrel of his pistol against his palm with a slow intentional pat.
Munroe gave him a curt nod and motioned for the boys to rise from the settee as he moved toward the door. With his hand resting on the latch, he turned back to Alexander and bowed. “I’ll leave ye to your lady but I’ll also leave ye with this: I shall be taking your name to the other elders as my choice forTanistto Clan Neal.”
“Tanist?” Alexander took a step forward but kept himself between Catriona’s door and the elder. “I’m no' of Neal blood. Why would ye do that?”
“Ye’ve married the eldest daughter and the eldest son, the one still living, is as unfit as the two before him. This is Clan Neal’s opportunity to heal. To thrive. To grow.” Munroe lifted his chin and locked eyes with Alexander. “Will ye accept?”
“I will think upon your offer.” Alexander refused to do anything rash, especially when it came to Catriona’s people.
Munroe nodded. “I would expect no less from a wise chieftain.” He turned to go, pausing a moment to glance back over one shoulder. “Good day to ye, sir, and know we’re all praying for Lady Catriona’s complete recovery.”
Alexander didn’t comment. Just watched the old man toddle away, herding the nine-year-olds down the hallway with him.
Tanist.Catriona had teased that she’d speak to the elders and get them to name him chief rather than claim the title herself and attempt to persuade them to accept a female leader. But was Munroe’s offer real? And would the other elders agree? Alexander snorted out a bitter huff. It had taken an outsider to rid them of the problem they shouldha tended to themselves. He had little respect for such men. They shouldha ousted both Calum and his father years ago.
Then what wouldha happened to Catriona and her mother?The puzzle of the Neal men’s cowardice plagued him, gnawed at his gut like a dog worrying a bone. Surely, that could nay have been the only reason that kept Calum and his father in power.
“Alexander.”
Father William’s quiet summons came from the door at his back, sending a cold sweat across him. With slow, pained movements born of dread, he turned and almost collapsed to his knees when Catriona turned her head on the pillow and gave him a weak a smile. He rushed to her bedside, shoved his pistol into Father William’s hands, then knelt and scooped up Catriona’s hand.
“'Tis about time ye opened those eyes, m’love,” he scolded in a teasing tone before pressing a kiss to her hand.
“I was weary,” Catriona whispered then pulled her hand free of his and cradled his face in her palm. “Have I slept so long?”
“Long enough.”
“But I’m better now.” She eased in a deep breath, flinched, then eased it out with a slow exhale. “A mite sore, though.”
“Aye.” Alexander rose and poured a small amount of water into a cup. “Mrs. Elena said ye would be but the woman and her vile poultices kept fever and infection at bay.” He slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted. “Naught but a wee sip for ye now,” he said, matching the tilt of the cup to her swallowing. When she gave him a quick nod, he set the cup aside and lowered her back to the pillows.
Catriona lifted the covers then wrinkled her nose. “Shew! I fair reek.” Still grimacing, she shifted her gaze to him. “How can ye stand to be in the same room with me?”
“Ye smell sweet as heather and the sparkling green of your opened eyes fair lifts me heart.”
She gave him a side-eyed look as though he were a lad trying to charm Cook out of extra helpings. “Ye are a sweet talkin’ liar, dear husband. I’ll give ye that.”
Mrs. Aberfeldy pushed into the room with Elena Bickerstaff and another suspicious smelling cloth-covered crock. “Saints be praised. She’s back among us!” She looked to Alexander. “Have ye told her of the elders’ decision?”
Alexander made a mental note to have Mrs. Aberfeldy sent off to England. The woman would be a fair weapon against the Sassenachs. She’d drive them into drowning themselves in the River Thames to escape her incessant meddling. He fixed her with such a glare she backed up a step and pressed her plump fingers to her lips.
“Ahh…beg pardon. I didna mean to speak out a turn.” She looked to Mrs. Elena who rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“She’s always been an eejit,” Mrs. Elena said as she folded back the covers and peered under Catriona’s bandages. “Looks good. I willna disturb the wounds for now. We can wait to put a fresh poultice on them til this evening.”
“Are ye going tell me what Mrs. Aberfeldy is referring to or not?” Catriona pinned him with a fierce glare.
“It appears the elders have found a choice forTanist.”
Catriona’s eyes widened and her smile grew so quickly that Alexander felt a wave of guilt wash across him. “Yourself?” she asked.
