She shifted in the saddle. “Ye knew me as a bairn?”
He gave her a small smile. “I held yer chubby fingers when ye sat at the high table with yer mam—ye were hungry—crying and…” He paused.
“What?” she demanded.
“Nothing, lass.” He tried to wave her off.
She directed her horse closer to his, her blue eyes piercing his heart. “It seems ye have something else to say.”
He shrugged, knowing if he finished his thought, she’d be doubly offended by his words. “Ye were as loud and unruly then as ye are now.”
Instead of lashing out, she simply smiled and let out a small snort. “True to me nature, then.”
It pleased him immensely that Kali had a sense of humor. He thought he could like the lass, despite all he’d heard. “Aye.”
“Thank ye for telling me about our history. Ye mentioned we must accept what gifts the land gives. Well, what gifts has this land given ye, Adam MacKay?” She looked at him as if she could read his most secret thoughts, her eyes never leaving his.Damn, she was lovely and proud, and was she teasing him with that seductive smile, or was that her natural way of gazing at all men?Then she scanned the distant landscape.
“Pastures for sheep. If ye look hard enough, ye can see wee white dots on the horizon. Our flocks are out this time of year.”
“Wool and meat,” she said.
“Aye, the verra best of both.”
“The land is beautiful,” she offered, her hypnotic eyes scanning the hills in every direction. “I have but one last question. What happened to my clan’s land? Did the MacKenzies or the Munros get it?”
Ghosts seemed to haunt her expression as she turned to him.
“Nay. The king still holds it in trust.”
“In trust? For who?”
“Do ye really want to know?”
“Aye.”
“Himself. He keeps all of the honey.”
She frowned. “There are caretakers, then?”
“Aye, hired men who manage the estate.”
“Butin trustmeans he must eventually give it up, doesn’t it?”
“Only in a world where sovereigns respect the law and the rights of the men they rule. Under normal circumstances, I would say he should give the land to the next Bane heir. Even a grandson.”
“Thank ye,” she said quietly. “Ye have given me more than ye know.” She urged her mare into a trot, headed for the keep.
…
“This missive clearly states ye are lacking in character, lass,” Laird MacKay said, folding his hands on the table before him in his solar.
With every unsubstantiated accusation the laird threw at her, Kali begged him to listen to reason. ’Twas why she’d been escorted to his solar the moment they arrived at the keep. This conversation was meant to be kept private. “Please, believe me, sir. My father is not the man ye think he is. I am no’ a harlot or a witch. And I never threatened to kill him. I simply refused to marry an English lord!”
That got his attention. Laird MacKay straightened in his chair. “I am sure ye are mistaken.”
“Nay. Lord Nelson is as English as any man can be. He is titled and wealthy, and from what I know of him, not a friend to the Scots. But he has allied with my father for whatever reason, though I know it has to do with coin—the only thing that motivates me sire.”
“Perhaps we should give her a chance to explain,” Adam said, hating the desperation in Kali’s voice. “Ye’ve had nothing kind to say about Bane.”
