What had London ever given her, but a hatred for her own supposed failings—failings only brought to her attention by the very people with whom she’d wanted to mingle? The idea of returning to the sea of false smiles and ill-concealed resentments when she could instead simply turn her back on the entire maelstrom seemed utterly mad. And she did pride herself on her logic. It was just unfortunate it had taken another kidnapping to rattle her brain to its senses.
“After this I was worried ye’d nae want to see the Highlands again. Two kidnappings in one month. That’s a bit much even fer here.” He kissed her again, slowly, his hands cupping her face as if she was something precious. But then she was precious, to him.
When they mounted Clootie again she opted to sit across Graeme’s thighs, mostly so she could continue looking at him. “Your uncle said this wasn’t over,” she reminded him. “And I think you broke Sir Hamish’s nose.”
“I damned well hope I did,” he returned. “I’ve been wanting to do it for nearly eight years, now.”
“But what will he do to you in return, Graeme? He and the Duke of Dunncraigh? Because even if the Maxwell doesn’t know about me yet, he will.”
“He didnae like me before because I argue with his grand decrees when they aided him and hurt his people. He’s claimed I’m nae loyal. Me flattening Paulk and keeping ye close’ll give him more reason to want me gone.”
“Gone from the Highlands?”
“Gone from clan Maxwell. He’d like it if I left the Highlands, and he may try to burn me oot to encourage me to leave, but this ismyland. He cannae push me off it.” She felt the deep breath he took. “I dunnae want ye taken by surprise again, Ree. He hates yer brother. Ye were a way to get to Lattimer. I doubt Dunncraigh’ll leave it with harsh words and threats. Are ye prepared fer that sort of life?”
That was something she’d never considered. “I’d much rather fight to keep something I have and I believe in than for some stupid recognition from a group of people who mean nothing to me.”
“We’ll figure it oot then, lass. This is a new circumstance. Give my wee brain a bit of time to consider it. I reckon Paulk and his men’ll all run away looking to Dunncraigh to tell ’em what to do next. That’ll give us a day, anyway.”
“My wee brain is also available,” she reminded him.
“I’m nae likely to ferget that.”
She wanted him to understand that they could be partners, that if he wanted to, he could tell her all his troubles, his thoughts and his dreams, and she would do everything she could to help him. Whether he ever asked for her hand or not.
***
“Lady Marjorie!” Mrs. Giswell hurried out the front door with more speed than Graeme thought the woman could muster. “Come inside! We’ll draw a bath for you.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Mrs. Giswell,” the brave, bonny lass returned as he handed her to the ground. “Where are the boys?”
“I ordered them to remain in the morning room so you wouldn’t be overset. We must get you changed. And oh, your hair!”
“I’m not overset,” Marjorie protested, as the older woman bustled her into the house. “I want—”
“After you’ve cleaned off that dirt and fixed your hair, my dear. A lady never looks disheveled.”
They headed upstairs, still arguing. Graeme wanted to follow, both to be certain she was unhurt and because Mrs. Giswell amused him. But as well as he knew anything he knew he didn’t have the luxury of pausing for amusement.
So with a reluctant last look up the stairs he pushed open the morning room door. “She’s safe, lads,” he said, squatting next to Connell. “And ye, my duckling, are a hero.”
“I was very brave,” Connell agreed.
“Was Uncle Raibeart truly a part of this?” Dùghlas asked, his own expression more concerned than relieved.
“Did ye have to kill anyone?” Brendan added.
Graeme straightened again, nudging Connell toward a chair. “We need to have a chat, lads. And I need ye to listen.”
“We’ll listen, Graeme,” the duckling said, sitting back in the chair so that his feet didn’t quite touch the floor. Exchanging a glance, Brendan and Dùghlas sat on the sofa.
“Thank ye, lads. Sir Hamish meant to take Ree to Dunncraigh. I reckon the idea was to use her to convince Lattimer to sell his land to the Maxwell. That’s what he wanted earlier, anyway.” The idea of what might have happened to Marjorie made his jaw and his hands clench, and he pushed back against the anger. At this moment he needed to be calm. And logical. Later he could remind himself how satisfying it had been to smash Hamish Paulk’s face.
“And aye, Raibeart was with Paulk. He may have been trying to keep the Maxton soot of any of this, but he’ll nae be over fer dinner anytime soon. That’s nae what I need to tell ye, though. Sir Hamish and Dunncraigh arenae going to let this lie. They may boot us from clan Maxwell. They may try to force us to leave Garaidh nan Leòmhann. The way I—”
“I dunnae want to leave Garaidh nan Leòmhann,” Connell broke in, his eyes wide and worried.
“Hush, duckling,” Brendan said. “Ye can talk when he’s finished.”
