“Thank ye for lettin’ me join ye, father,” Malcolm said. The corner of his mouth twisted up in a half-smile. “It’s a great honor.”
“Aye, well, just because ye’ll never lay claim tae any title of yer own, that doesn’t mean ye cannae still be useful tae our clan,” Douglas grumbled as they went inside. Duncan shook his headslowly and ambled off toward a low stone wall, where he reclined and closed his eyes.
“I suppose I’d better hurry along, then, so I dinnae miss too much,” Alex said to Isla. “Would ye please tell me where the stables are?”
“Here, I’ll show ye.” Isla started in that direction… but she was determined not to let Alex see the stains on her dress, and so she tilted her body as they went to keep them hidden, until she was practically skipping sideways.
“Why are ye walkin’ like that?” Alex asked, laughing as he led the horses.
“Sometimes I like tae pretend tae be animals,” she said breathlessly. “Right now I’m a crab, so I have tae walk sideways.”
As she said it, she took a closer look at the young man: His build was muscular for one his age, and his cheekbones were proud and high like his father’s. His longish blonde hair was thoroughly brushed to keep from looking tousled. He kept his shoulders stiffly squared, as though always preparing himself for a surprise blow from any direction—likewise, his blue eyes always seemed to be moving, searching, inspecting, as though restlessly looking for faults or flaws in everything around him.
Now, however, they were entirely focused upon her, and filled with bemusement.
“That’s rather a strange thing tae do!” he observed.
“How would ye know?” she retorted indignantly. “Have ye ever tried it?”
Alex shook his head. “Our da’ never liked us playin’ pretend when we were wee lads. He says we need tae keep both feet firmly in the real world, for when we run the clan someday. Well, ‘tisDuncanwho’ll run it, really, but me and Malcolm will help him along. Advisors, as he said.”
“Oh, but that won’t be for years!” Isla giggled. “Surely ye can manage a bit of pretend before then, tae make up for when you were wee? Here, give it a go! Ye can be a Highland Pony!”
“Why on earth would I choose to be a Highland Pony?” he laughed. “Particularly when ‘twould be a far better thing to be an Eriskay?”
“Ye’re daft!” she said indignantly, stopping and crossing her arms. “Highland Ponies are strong, and they rarely require shoeing… so if it doesn’t have a shoe, it cannae throw a shoe and ruin yer ride!”
Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Aye, but an Eriskay is just as strong, and has a coat that keeps out water so it’s better for ridin’ in poor weather.”
“What sort of lad rides in bad weather?” she countered. “I’ll tell ye… adaftsort, just as I said!”
“Or the sort who might one day lead his clan to war, regardless of the weather,” he said, jutting his chin triumphantly at having made his point.
“If ye’re leading yer clan to war, that makes yemoredaft,” she retorted, jutting her own chin in imitation of him. “And if ye do so with nae regard for the weather, then ye’re the daftest of them all, for the weather could determine how well your own men fare… whether their natures and skills are best suited for snow, or mud.”
“Ye’ve an answer for everythin’, it seems,” Alex chuckled.
“I think it’s important tae know a lot about a lot of things,” Isla told him archly. “Even if I’m never goin’ tae be a laird, or an advisor tae one for that matter.”
Before he could respond, Douglas’s voice cut in sharply: “Alex! Curse ye, lad, I told ye tae stable the horses and come back, not dilly-dally wi’ the wee lassie!”
Alex and Isla both turned and saw the laird striding toward them furiously.
“I’m sorry, father!” Alex said, letting go of the reins and putting his hands up. Isla saw that he’d gone quite pale. “I was only…”
Douglas cuffed him across the ear sharply. “Silence!Go collect yer brother off that wall an’ we’ll be on our way!”
Alex hung his head, mortified, and did as he was told.
The laird gave Isla a dark look, then took up the horses’ reins and led them in that direction. A few moments later, she saw the Oliphants ride off together in the direction of their own lands.
Isla entered the manor and found her father waiting for her. “What have ye been at, lass, eh? Puttin’ more stains on that fine dress, I’d wager?”
“I was speaking with Alex Oliphant,” she replied primly.
His face fell. “Ye cannae do that, Isla. Ye cannae carry on wi’ him, nor any of his kin. ‘Tis nae right.”
“Why nae?” she demanded. “Ye were the one who said I had tae be nice tae them!”
