"Just visiting a few friends, Storm."
"Ye have some, do ye?” Iain muttered.
Alexander grinned and strolled over to the table to help himself to some wine. “Mayhaps I should visit with the lass."
"Meg most like has her abed."
"All the better."
"Alex, behave yourself,” Storm ordered, biting back a smile.
"For ye, Storm, anything.” He then grew serious. “Ye are certain the lass is all right?"
"Aye and it seems to me ye are muckle concerned about anither mon's wife,” Iain growled. “My wife."
"Tsk, such a black mood. I fear I have news that willnae lighten it."
"What news?” Iain demanded impatiently when Alexander did not elaborate, simply sat down. “Where have ye been?"
"That matters not."
"With a lass,” Storm said firmly.
Ignoring that, Alexander continued, “Lord Fraser didnae die from the beating ye gave him, my friend."
"Ye are right. ‘Tis not good news."
"It seems he is, howsomever, scarred and crippled."
"Crippled?” Iain struggled to remember what he had done to Fraser but could only recall his intense murderous rage.
"Aye. Ye busted his leg when ye threw him up against the wall."
"But he stood up."
"Fear most like gave him the strength. He was trying to run, broken leg and all. It didnae break clean."
"So he will have a limp."
"Aye, Storm, there is little doubt of it. His kin see it as a just payment."
"So there willnae be a lawing done.” Colin's voice held a note of relief.
"Nay, there willnae be a feud, but Lord Fraser cries out for vengeance and none can silence him."
Iain indulged in a long, colorful bout of cursing, ending with a muttered apology to a wide-eyed Storm. “Anither knife aimed at my back. Lord Fraser willnae face me square. He has e'er been a coward."
"Aye, ye have the measure of him. Best ye have the full measure."
"What do ye mean?"
"'Tis not just ye he claims must pay.” His gaze never leaving Iain's face Alexander reported flatly, “He claims Islaen is to blame too. He says she lured him, taunted him and tempted him, then cried rape when ye caught her at her games.” Alexander barely saved his tankard of wine when, with one swift sweep of his arm, Iain cleared a wide arc of the table off. “He cries her a whore and claims ye tried to kill him to keep him from telling the truth about her,” Alexander continued doggedly, viewing Iain's rage with interest. “He is talking loud and long for the tale has e'en reached here."
"No one will believe it,” Iain rasped.
"None that ken her, nay,” Alexander said quietly.
"But not that many do,” Iain ground out.
