“Aye.Did ye not just see him run as if his tail was on fire?”
She rippled a dismissive shrug.“I merely asked after his health.He seems a bitlessof late.”
“I see.”Grant hadn’t seen a change in the man, but he refused to waste time arguing the point.There was only one matter he wished to make clear.“I’ll no’ be taking another wife, Mairwen.”
“Why not?”
“How many times have we talked about this?”He ambled over to the cabinet in the corner and poured two glasses of whisky.She was the only woman he had ever met who could drink him into a blethering fool while she remained as sober as if she’d had nothing stronger than tea.He offered her the glass.“From one of the older barrels.Tell me what ye think of it, m’lady.”
She took a sip, then grew thoughtful while holding it on her tongue.Raising the drink closer to the oil lamp on his desk, she swirled the golden liquid to catch the light of the flame.“Verra nice.Fine color and smooth on the tongue.’Twill fetch a good price should ye decide to offer it to yer customers.”She took another sip, then slid the glass onto his desk and relaxed back into her chair.“I would move it among the elite with the caveat that it was made exclusively for them, ye ken?Play to their bloated sense of self-importance.Greater profit that way.”Her infuriating calmness as she studied him warned she was not done with him yet.“Now tell me, why will ye not consider taking another wife?A love match this time.”
“Mairwen.”
“Rumbling my name in that warning tone neither frightens nor convinces me to leave ye be.”She barely tilted her head to one side and smiled.“And I remember all yer prior arguments, so let’s not waste our time by repeating them, ye ken?”
“I dinna believe in love.Therefore, why bother?”And that was the truth of it.He had never loved.Well, he had.But that was a different sort of love, love for his clan, for his friends, for kith and kin.“And ye ken as well as I how my first marriage, the arranged one, ended.We will not travel that path again.’Twas far more trouble than pleasure.”
“Ye are a stubborn man, Grant MacAlester.”
That made him smile.“Aye.So ye tell me at every opportunity.”
Her expression daunting, she rose and leaned over his desk, making him itch to push his chair back to escape her.He tightened his fists and forced himself to hold fast and hide his leeriness.
She spoke quietly, as if knowing her words always thundered through him.“What if I told ye Seven Cairns has found that part of yer heart ye’ve been missing all these years?”
He swallowed hard and sucked in a deep breath, suddenly starving for air.Nothing chilled him more than the mention of Seven Cairns.’Twas an unholy place in the eyes of the church, and Grant knew why.It wasn’t a simple weaver’s village, and neither was Mairwen a harmless weaver.Seven Cairns was one of the holiest of places in the Highlands to those who still followed the auld ways.He’d heard the tales of the place told around the fires on long winter evenings, and somewhere, deep in his soul, he knew those tales were not just stories.
“My heart is whole,” he said.“It beats in my chest just fine.”
She pushed away from his desk and meandered around the cluttered room, idly touching a book here or a bauble there as though committing the place to memory.“And what of her from yer dreams?”she asked with a slyness that made him swallow hard again.“Do ye not wish to meet her?”
“I dinna ken of whom ye speak.”
Without even glancing at him, she huffed a snort of amusement.“Dinna lie to me, my fine laird.’Tis insulting.”She pulled a book from its shelf, opened it, and slowly paged through it.“Only the truth between us, remember?I have never lied to ye or any of yer clan.”She thumped the book shut and returned it to its place among the others.“I have seen her and think her a lovely lass.Tiny but mighty, what with that coppery hair of hers that shines as though newly minted.Reminds me of the Goddess Bride herself.”
The woman he had dreamed of for the past few months appeared in his mind as if commanded to do so by Mairwen.“She is not tiny,” he said, shifting in place at the hard rising that the vision of the enticing lass always gave him.
Mairwen ceded with a nod.“True.Her shape is bountiful for one so short in stature.”The witch’s smile became all too knowing.“She would keep ye warm on the coldest of nights and be a fine mother to yer many sons.”
“She is naught but a dream.”He refilled his glass and downed it, welcoming the burn in his gullet.“If ye need more supplies at Seven Cairns, ye have but to send a messenger, ye ken?There is no need to risk coming here yerself.”
“Our supplies are ample for now.”Mischief flashed in Mairwen’s eyes.“I came about the missing piece of yer heartandto have a bit of amusement by stirring the priest’s blood.He canna cause me harm.”
Of that, Grant had no doubt.“Aye, but the man can be a verra large pain in my arse.”
Mairwen threw back her head and laughed.“Ye always bring me such joy, MacAlester.’Tis why I am determined to see ye settled and happy.”
“My happiness is my own concern.”He didn’t wish to be rude, but she needed to understand that on this, he refused to change his mind.
“So ye mean to stand there and tell me that if I brought ye this lady, ye would refuse to make her feel welcome here at yer keep?Ye would deny her yer clan’s hospitality?”
He found himself tightening his buttocks as if he was a lad and his grandmam was about to smack his arse for him.The ridiculous reaction unsettled him.Bloody hell, he was a laird and a Scottish earl—not to mention one of the most successful smugglers in the Highlands.“If that be all, Mairwen?”
She offered him a graceful nod.“That will be all once ye find the bollocks to answer my question.”
He bowed his head to keep from baring his teeth and bellowing something disrespectful at the woman whom he had no doubt could turn him into a feckin’ toad if she so wished.After struggling to rein himself in, he lifted his head and squared his shoulders.“My clan is hospitable enough.They and I always make our guests feel welcome.”
“My, my, when did ye become such an expert in diplomatic cowardice?”
