Page 30 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

"Really?" she asked. She got comfortable in her chair. "Tell me about it."

Clyde watched her coiling and uncoiling her legs like a snake. It was beneath her flowing skirts, but it didn't matter. The outline of her thighs was enough to get his juices flowing. How he wished he could stroke her smooth skin for himself and find out how it felt beneath his fingertips.

Or even just what it looked like.

Och,he had to stop it now!

"Aye," said Clyde, trying his hardest not to stare at her. "I, um, was betrothed tae a lass, but, um, it didnae work out..."

Clyde coughed. Didnae work out is the understatement of the decade. Fiona's green eyes pierced him as he spoke. Suddenly, she was on fire with curiosity.

Thing was, he found it almost impossible not to tell her everything right there. With a supreme effort, he just about managed it.

Fiona's eyes followed him avidly. But Clyde changed his face.

"So, lassie, what is it ye came tae tell me?" he said, starting the conversation again. "I mean, I'm supposing ye didnae come tae discuss my amours..."

Clyde raised an eyebrow, and Fiona's coolness faded. She was putty in his hand. But pressing her head down swiftly, Fiona Duncan had no intention of showing him that. Instead, she smiled, her head buzzing.

"Nay, I did nae," said Fiona, pushing the errant hair that just would not stay out of her face away. But although she pretended, she could think of nothing she would like more than to hear about Clyde's loves.

At the mention of marriage, her heart had taken a dive. Grace's words had come back at her. Betrothed to the Anderson lass, was all she heard in her head.

Still, she couldn't help smiling to herself that he had revealed that he was no longer betrothed to this woman, whoever she was. Even if she absolutely definitely and for certain did not want to marry him herself.

Did she?

Still musing, Fiona remembered what she had come to say.

"Och, aye, Clyde. Well, I have talked it through wi' my sisters an' brother, an' we are o' the opinion that..." Fiona's voice faltered. Such a lot of words to say something so simple. "That I will come wi' ye tae find the Duncan clan gold."

Clyde's face immediately warmed. He leaped to his feet. "Really?" he said, grasping her hand.

Surprised, Fiona took a step backward. The imprint of Clyde's touch caressed her, leaving her tingling.

"Aye," she said, trying to take the smile off her face. She should not be making it so obvious. "Aye, I will come wi' ye."

"Ye wilnae regret it!" Clyde said warmly.

Fiona looked him in the eye.

"I hope nae!"

The room was filled with old men. Pushing the doors open, Fiona felt alone as she filed into the counselors' chamber.

The great hall was still in use, so instead, the clan elders were meeting in one of the upper chambers, hastily repurposed as a counsel room. It had taken Fiona some time to get away from her guests in the great hall, the never-ending hunting party threatening to go on until the early hours.

Internally, Fiona cursed herself for being so forgetful. How could she not have known the hunting party was meeting that day?

Dragging herself away from the revelries had been hard, but finally, she had made it, distracted and more than a little tired.

Closing the door as softly as she could, Fiona tried to tiptoe in, to listen to the chambers. But at the first sight of her, the room stopped dead. Finally, the chief elder—the stooped gray-haired man that Fiona still did not know the name of—looked up.

"Ah, Miss Duncan," he said wryly. "Good o' ye tae join us!"

He stared across the room, his uncertain eyes fixating firmly upon hers. For a man who could barely see, he made a good job of being intimidating.

It wasn't just the head counselor. It was all of them; everybody in that room stopped and stared.