“Ryder loves himself. Ryder loves being in control,” Logan interrupted. “He’s a feckless fool who never matured beyond boyhood. He’s a poor choice as Laird MacCulloch, especially since the MacCullochs occupy much of the land which ought to belong to Clan MacAdair.”
Megan blinked, a sensation of unease uncurling in her gut. Logan was not the calm, well-spoken man she’d met earlier. Now that they were alone, there was a hardness in his voice, tinged with bitterness.
He’s angry,she realized.Angry at what, though? That Clan MacCulloch is larger than clan MacAdair? That Ryder holds more power than he does? I daenae understand.
“Well, I have nay head for politics,” Megan managed at last, catching Alaina’s eye and holding it. “Now isnae the time to discuss these things. Alaina, come back to the Feast Hall. Hamish, return to yer post. Logan, why daenae we all…”
“I’m glad that Ryder plans to marry,” Logan interrupted simply. “Once he’s busy with a new bride and all the heirs that will surely come his way, I can take over the care of me nieces. I’ll nae let Alaina sully herself with a guardsman, or anyone who is nae me choice. I will raise themproperly.”
Alaina glanced over at Megan, and now there was fear in her eyes. Megan shifted to stand beside her, and behind the folds of her dress, she took Alaina’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Theyarebein’ raised properly,” Megan answered calmly. “I ken that ye have wanted to raise yer nieces for a while, Laird MacAdair, but Ryder loves his sisters and willnae be parted from them.”
“Aye, but once he is married…”
“A dozen wives and a hundred sons couldnae distract Ryder from his sisters,” Megan interrupted. “Nor could anythin’ convince him to give up his guardianship. I am sorry for yer disappointment, laird, but ye cannae raise the girls. We can arrange more visits, or even…”
“Uncle Logan wants me to marry a man of his choice,” Alaina whispered, her cold fingers tightening in Megan’s.
Megan blinked, missing a beat. She glanced around at the faces again—Alaina’s wary eyes, Hamish’s mask of fright, and Logan’s worryingly calm expression.
Somethin’ is wrong. I’ve missed somethin’.
“What?” Megan managed at last.
“He said as much,” Hamish spoke up for the first time, his voice shaking. “He made us come this way and said that Alaina was all but betrothed to Laird Campbell’s son.”
Logan’s gaze swiveled over to Hamish, and there was plain hatred there.
“Hold yer tongue, boy, or I’ll cut it out,” he snapped.
Megan stiffened. “Daenae speak to him that way. Logan, I can tell ye now that there’s nay plan to betroth Alaina to anyone. Nae Hamish, and certainly nae Laird Campbell’s son. Ye should speak to Ryder about this. Now, Alaina, Hamish, we really must get back to the Feast Hall. Come.”
She reached out to take Hamish’s hand, too, and made to lead them back the way they’d come.
Logan drew his sword with a metallic, drawn-outshlick.With his arm extended, the long blade easily spanned the entire width of the narrow hallway. The sharp edge, turned toward them, landed inches away from Megan’s chest.
Fear and understanding rushed through her at last.
We’re in more danger than I thought.
“Let us by, Laird MacAdair,” Megan murmured, meeting his eye and holding it.
“Aye, move aside!” Hamish interjected. Megan bit back a groan.
Keep yer mouth shut, son. Ye are not helpin’.
“I’m a guardsman,” Hamish continued, puffing out his chest. “I’m asoldier.”
“Nay, ye are nae,” Logan observed thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down. “Ye are nae even old enough to need to shave every day. Where is yer sword, lad? A guardsman doesnae walk around without it.”
Hamish’s face turned red and then white in quick succession. Megan didn’t need to glance down at his hip to know that his sword was not buckled there.
“Ye are nae a soldier, lad,” Logan continued with a heavy sigh. “Ye might have been one, one day. But me? I’m a warrior.” He lifted his own sword, the point screeching horribly as it left the stone well, and aimed it at Hamish.
The boy swallowed hard, visibly white with fear, but did not back away. He lifted his chin, the point of the sword inches away from his bare, exposed throat. When he swallowed, they could track the movement under his skin.
“Uncle, daenae,” Alaina whispered. The fear in her voice was painful to hear. “Please, daenae hurt him. He… he’s done nothin’ wrong. If we can go back to the Feast Hall, I swear I’ll tell Ryder that I’ll marry the man ye have picked out for me. I will.”
