“He lives for this shite, my lord,” Fin interjected. “Don’t let that serious, scholarly reputation fool you. MacLean might be smart, but he’s also the most devious bastard I know on the battlefield. You don’t know how glad I was to have him on my side when we were young. I almost pitied John of Lorn’s sons, when we were all being fostered on Islay. I can’t tell you how many times MacLean got the best of them after some prank they pulled. It’s like a game to him. But he’s the only one smart enough to play.”
As the MacDougalls were shared foes, Bruce seemed to appreciate the example. He also looked very intrigued—as if this were exactly the type of information about Eoin that he’d wanted to hear.
Eoin was surprised by but grateful for Fin’s praise after the near blows they’d come to earlier. He was closer to Fin than he was to anyone, and he didn’t like to have discord between them. The way his foster brother spoke of women had always made him uncomfortable, but never had Eoin felt it so personally.
It wasn’t just the crude comment about Lady Margaret, however, but also the cold, hard truth he’d imparted. Truth that Eoin didn’t want to hear.
“Well, if he plays it half as well as he plays chess, I’d like to see it,” Bruce said.
Before Eoin could ask him what he had in mind, Fin interjected, “Speaking of chess...” He nodded his head in the direction of the two women who’d just ridden through the gate behind him.
Eoin stiffened, almost as if he were bracing himself.
It wasn’t enough to dull the impact.
God’s blood, she was breathtaking. Gut wrenching. Knee buckling. The Fair Maid? What an understatement. Bold Enchantress, Seductive Siren, Brazen Beauty, those were more fitting.
What had Fin said? Primitive splendor? She certainly fit that description right now. Her fiery hair was streaming around her shoulders in wild disarray, her cheeks were rosy from exertion, and her eyes were bright and sparkling with laughter. Against the background of the burnished countryside and gray walls of the castle, she looked vibrant and alive. Like a part of life that he’d been missing. He wanted to breathe her in, let her wash over him, and bask in all that joyful radiance.
She might be trouble, utterly “wrong” for him, and show none of the restraint and modesty of a noblewoman, but she made him want to bother.
Their eyes met for one long heartbeat. He told himself he was relieved when she shifted her gaze away. But the hand that had wrapped around his chest wouldn’t seem to let go.
He wanted her. So much that for the first time he didn’t trust himself to do the smart thing.
She would have turned away, but Bruce had never met a woman he didn’t want to charm—even one who was the daughter of his enemy. “Ah, it’s your littlemaid,” Bruce teased under his breath.
Christ, even his cousin had noticed?
Eoin tried to cover his embarrassment as Bruce gave the ladies a gallant bow. “Lady Margaret, Lady Brigid, I see that we were not the only ones to enjoy a ride this morning.” He looked behind them and frowned. “But where are your escorts?”
Margaret and her friend looked at each other, clearly trying not to break out into fresh peals of laughter.
“Behind us,” Margaret said. “Farbehind us, I hope. Seeing as it was a race.”
She gave the Lord of Carrick a cheeky grin as she dismounted with the help of one of the stable lads and walked toward them. Even her walk was enticing, the gentle sway of her hips a seductive promise. Eoin couldn’t look away.
“With whom?” Fin asked.
“My brothers,” Margaret replied with a glance in Fin’s direction that seemed oddly cautious. “I even gave them a five-minute head start.”
The two women exchanged glances again, and this time both of them burst into laughter.
Eoin could tell that Margaret was up to something, but Fin seemed confused. “You mean they gaveyoua five-minute head start.”
Her gaze hardened almost imperceptibly. “Nay, I spoke correctly.”
Fin didn’t hide his incredulity. “And you won?”
“Well, I am a fast rider.” Her mouth twisted. “We were on the road from Cornton a few miles from the ford at Kildean when we decided to race.”
Eoin frowned. “But that ford isn’t passable until low tide. You’d have to cross the Forth at Stirling Bridge to reach the castle from there.”
She turned on him with pure mischief sparkling in her golden eyes. “Is that so? Now that I think about it, I do recall someone mentioning that. I wonder if my brothers know? I do hope they didn’t ride all the way to the ford before realizing they would have to turn around.”
He couldn’t help it, he laughed. As did Bruce and the others. The lass wasn’t just beautiful and outrageous, she was clever.
God help him.
