‘Well, I am found, so go and tell my brother that I am here. And tell him that I am Lowri Macaulay now.’
The man’s mouth gaped open. ‘The Laird will not be liking that, and I’ll not be the one to tell him.’ With those ominous words, the man hurried down from the wall, and the gates swung open.
When they entered, the Selby fellow disappeared inside the house. Several folk nearby stopped and stared, and their faces were not friendly. They must have heard what Lowri had said.
Shouts came from inside the house, and a dark, brute of a man came running. It had to be Peyton Strachan, for he was as black as the Devil himself, and big with it. A blonde lass followed, shouting, ‘Wait for me,’ but he did not break his stride, and she waddled after him, cradling an enormous pregnant belly.
Petyon seemed to see no one but Lowri, taking her in his arms and clutching her to his chest. ‘Thank God, oh, thank God,’ he gasped.
‘Let go, or you will crush her to death,’ shouted the blonde lass, puffing with her exertions. She tore Peyton off his sister, pushed him back as if he were nothing, and hugged Lowri even tighter.
Alarmingly, Lowri began to sob. ‘Oh, Cecily, Peyton. I thought I’d never see you again.’
Ah, so this was Cecily. Lowri had spoken often of her great beauty, and she had not exaggerated.
‘We thought you were lost forever,’ cried Peyton, throwing his arms around both of them. ‘I cannot believe you are back. I had given you up for dead, lass.’
They hung there for a while, the three of them, and Cullen let them have their reunion. Then Lowri met his gaze and pushed them off. ‘Forgive me. I have some explaining to do, but first, you must meet Cullen.’
Strachan looked him up and down and narrowed his eyes. ‘Cullen?’
‘Aye. This is Cullen Macaulay,’ said Lowri.
‘A Macaulay?’ Peyton Strachan’s face turned thunderous, eyes as hard as tacks. ‘What does he have to do with us?’
‘He is my husband,’ said Lowri.
‘The hell, he is,’ snarled Strachan, his hand going to his dirk. ‘Did that snake Griffin Macaulay have something to do with this?’
Cullen faced down Strachan’s fierce stare. ‘Lowri is my wife before the law and God. And aye, this marriage is my father’s doing.’
‘That bastard. Did he force you into this, Lowri?’ snarled Peyton, his face a mask of disgust.
‘Only at first,’ laughed Lowri, with a smile in Cullen’s direction, which he loved her for.
Strachan did not find that amusing. He glanced from one of them to the other and said, ‘Well, you need not be married for long.’
‘Do your worst, but you’ll not take her from me,’ growled Cullen, stepping chest to chest with Strachan.
‘I’ll make her a widow, and be done with it.’
‘Peyton! Stop!’ cried the lovely Cecily. ‘For heaven’s sake, hear them out before you go blundering in. We can all go to the hall and talk and eat. Let us calm our tempers.’
Strachan’s jaw worked, and he did not seem calmed, though he stepped back a pace, and so did Cullen.
‘Let us go and talk then,’ said Peyton with a glare.
Cullen ignored him and turned to Cecily. ‘I thank you, Mistress, for your hospitality, but I must go. I trust I can leave Lowri in your care until I return.’
‘Her care!’ bellowed Peyton. ‘Lowri is my sister, my own blood, and is nought to do with you.’
‘Peyton, stop,’ said Lowri, getting between them. ‘Please calm down and let me explain.’
Strachan shook his head. ‘You can’t have married a Macaulay. Why would you do that to me?’
‘I did nothing to you. I simply got myself in trouble, as I always do, and Cullen got me out of it. I am his wife now, and very happy about it, and if you try to hurt one hair on his head, I will never see or speak to you again.’
That wounded Strachan. His face took on a bewildered frown. ‘But the Macaulays are rats. They raid, connive and steal on our lands. Griffin Macaulay is my sworn enemy and a plague on Clan Strachan. Where is your loyalty, sister?’
