“But an impressive fighter,” Ewan countered.
James took this not as a rebuttal but as evidence for his original argument. “Aye. A true warrioress.” He shook his head solemnly. “We are in trouble.”
Ewan’s gaze went to Ailsa, catching her look as she shot a glance back over her shoulder.
“Aye,” he said softly. “I fear that we are.”
CHAPTER NINE
“I sawmy son took ye around the grounds this morning,” Laird Buchanan said that night over dinner, the dining hall filled with the chatter of warriors, families, and children all digging into their meals. “Did ye like what ye found?”
Ailsa had been midway through a bite of extraordinarily delicious stew. Chunks of tender venison had been seasoned with fresh herbs and spring vegetables.
When the Laird spoke, she nearly choked to death on the bite.
He hadn’t been asking her about kissing Ewan. Heobviouslyhad not been asking her about that.
The only reason she’d thought as much was because she could not think of anything else.
“Steady on, lass,” he said as she tried to catch her breath.
What a marvelous impression she was making upon these people who would be her family by marriage! First she’d come with enemies on her heels, then she’d imparted the news of a dear friend’s death, and now she was proving unable to do something as simple as eating her dinner.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, hoping her smile looked convincing. She thought very hard about rolling hills and glensfull of heather. “The lands are beautiful, My Laird; but, of course, ye knew as much.”
She didn’t think flattery would redeem everything, but perhaps it could help smooth a path. Besides, it was true.
Laird Buchanan smiled—a fatherly sort of smile. Even on the heels of her own loss, Ailsa found herself warmed by his expression.
Then she made the mistake of glancing toward Ewan. He was looking at her with this sense of…knowing. Like he knew what she’d been thinking. Like he knew that she’d spent the day wondering what might have happened if she hadn’t pushed him away. Would he have pulled her closer to him? Would she have pressed herself tight against him? Would she have put her hands on him? Would his arms have felt as strong as they looked beneath the fine linen of his shirt?
She couldnotfret over these things now, though. Not if she wanted to be able to eat the rest of her dinner without choking to death.
When she glanced back at Laird Buchanan, he was giving her a knowing sort of look. All he said, however, was, “And ye saw the distillery? ‘Tis Ewan’s pride, though he’ll nae admit to bein’ the one to run it these past years.”
“Yerun it, Da,” Ewan countered. “I merely aid ye.”
Laird Buchanan gave Ailsa a look that said,See?
She ducked her head against her grin.
Laird Buchanan turned to Vaila.
“And ye, Vaila? I hear ye taught my men a number of useful things today. They are, I assure ye, grateful.”
If Ailsa had caught Ewan’s eye only by accident, Vaila was openly looking in Captain McGregor’s direction.
Ailsa sighed, but there was no real heat in it. She’d spent a portion of her afternoon trying to impress upon her sister the merits ofnotantagonizing the Captain of the Guard of thepeople who were giving them sanctuary. She’d known as she’d spoken, however, that there was no point.
And indeed, Vaila’s delight at Laird Buchanan’s praise was obvious.
The captain was staring back, meeting Vaila’s challenge without flinching.
“Thank ye kindly, yer lairdship,” Vaila said, practically preening. She always had liked being complimented on her fighting.
“Tomorrow, we’ll see if we can’t teach Miss Vaila something of our own,” Captain McGregor said. It was an unmistakable challenge.
If he’d thought that would dissuade Vaila, he’d chosen the absolute wrong tack—Ailsa could have told him as much, or indeed any of the Donaghey sisters. Then again, judging from the wry arch of his brow, perhaps the captain hadn’t meant to dissuade her.
