“I am glad one of us thinks this is hilarious, Isobel.”
The goat backed up a step, shook its head, and eyed the new obstacle.
Logan raised his voice as the goat shifted its weight. “Guards!”
His voice carried into the hallway and along the stone like a bell. Isobel had moved to stand near the fireplace, one hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide, but there was a spark there that made him want to send her out with the beast.
The goat lunged at the chair again, and the impact shoved the wood back toward his shins. He rode it out and shoved it forward again.
“I said stop! Ye animal!”
Isobel opened her mouth to speak, but before any words could come out, two guards appeared in the doorway, their hair tousled from interrupted sleep.
“Both of ye. Get in here!” Logan snapped. “Can someone tell me why there is a goat in me study?”
They hesitated for only a second, then rushed in, trying to flank the animal. The goat turned sharply and presented them with its horns.
A stable boy skidded into the room, panting. He took one look at Logan, then at the goat, and went pale.
“Well,” Logan gritted out. “Explain.”
The boy swallowed. “Apologies, me Laird. It… escaped from the pen.”
“The pen,” Logan repeated.
“The, ah, farm,” the boy corrected, voice thinning. “Lady MacLellan’s pens in the yard.”
Logan felt heat rise behind his eyes. “Lady MacLellan’s what?”
“Oh, ye havenae seen the new home she made for the animals?” Isobel drawled.
Logan shot her a look. “Isobel.”
She raised her hands in mock surrender, and he returned his gaze to the stable boy.
“The animals, me Laird,” the boy stammered. “They were meant to stay put, but this one keeps making a run for it.”
The goat chose that moment to butt the chair again. The rear desk leg scraped across the floor, and the bottles on the surface rattled. A rolled map slid toward the edge.
Isobel spoke up then, stepping forward as if she might shield the animal with her body. “It isnae hurting anyone. It is just frightened. They are her friends, Logan.”
He turned his head just enough to look at her. “Friends,” he echoed.
The goat snorted, as if answering him, and tried to chew the corner of a dropped paper.
“Very moving,” Logan said. “Get it out.” He fixed his gaze on the stable boy. “Listen to me carefully. I want all the animals removed from the hall tonight. I daenae care where ye take them, I want them all out and returned to their place. Am I understood?”
The boy opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. He nodded quickly. “Aye, me Laird.”
Isobel frowned at him. “Ye cannae just drive them all out. Emma has worked hard to tame them. They make the castle feel like a home, nae a tomb.”
The goat shifted and sought another angle around the chair. Logan shoved the chair again and pointed at it.
“Home,” he said. “Really?”
The beast chose that instant to ram the leg with more enthusiasm. The candle near the desk shook, and hot waxsplashed onto the wood. It caused one of the quills to topple and roll across the papers.
Logan narrowed his eyes. “The ship smelled better than this room. And I had dead men bleed on the deck.”
