Baird leaned in, teasing her. “Is it, now?”
That was when she threw a clump of dirt at him, and it hit his boot.
The children shrieked with laughter.
Baird bit back a laugh of his own and tossed the dirt back, lightly. It sprinkled her skirts.
Her jaw dropped. “Ye did nae.”
“Oh, but I did,” Baird replied, straightening like a man preparing for war. “Now what will ye dae about it?”
The answer came faster than he expected. Davina scooped a full handful of mud,actualmud this time, wet from a puddle, and hurled it straight at him. It hit his shoulder with a glorious splatter.
The children screamed with unrestrained delight. Baird stared at the stain, then slowly lifted his gaze to Davina. She was doing her best to look innocent, and she failed spectacularly.
“Well then,” he said, letting his voice drop into a low rumble, “ye’ve declared it, have ye?”
“Declared what?” she asked, inching back.
“War.”
Before she could flee, Baird lunged, not to catch her, but to scoop up a massive clump of mud and fling it with impressive force. It splattered across her skirts. She let out a horrified laugh that echoed off the garden walls.
“Ye monster!”
“Aye,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “And I’m married tae ye.”
The children took this as their cue to dive wholeheartedly into the fray.
Gregor tried to stop them. “Oi! Nay! Stop that, ye daft wee savages!”
Then a mud ball hit him square in the chest.
Iain wheezed. “That was the lady’s aim, Gregor! Nay ours!”
Davina shrieked laughing. “I have a good aim! Dinnae lie tae the poor man!”
Baird couldn’t help it. He took advantage of her distraction and lobbed another mud ball. It caught her in the shoulder.
“Ye fiend!”
“Me dear husband, ye mean!” he corrected smugly.
“Oh, I’m well aware!”
That only encouraged him. The children were rolling in the mud, throwing handfuls ateveryoneindiscriminately. Gregor surrendered to chaos with surprising enthusiasm. Iain retaliated like a man defending his homeland.
Ailis clapped her hands over her mouth at the archway. “Saints preserve us, the laird is covered in mud!”
Her warning came too late. One of the children, little Isla, aimed a mud ball half her size at Baird’s back. It hit him with a wet splat.
Baird froze. The garden collectively gasped.
Isla stared in utter horror at her tiny, dirt-coated hand. “I… I didnae mean… I thought?—”
Baird turned slowly. With her little knees shaking, Isla attempted to hide behind Davina’s skirts.
Baird pointed at the child, suppressing a grin. “Traitor.”
