Page 35 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

"Whoa!" he called, bringing his large gray stallion to a halt. Surprised, Fiona slowed to a trot.

"What is it?" she asked, her light-green eyes full of concern. In the stormy half-light, her eyes changed regularly from green to brown and to a strange color in between, which was neither one thing nor the other.

On his horse, behind her, Clyde was frowning.

"Nay," he said, shaking his head. A blast of wind brought a shower of rain into both their faces. Blinking, Fiona tried to straighten her hair and see where she was. Beside her, Clyde grinned.

"The hair in yer face must ha' blinded ye," he said sagely.

Fiona looked at him uncertainly. "I can see well enough," she said, pushing her hair away. The sodden Highlands countryside came into view.

Clyde viewed her acerbically. "Well, then ye'll be able tae see ye’re going the wrong way," he said flatly.

Frowning, Fiona faced him. Another huge blast took them, this time nearly toppling the pair of them from their horses. As soon as she got straight, Fiona looked at him.

"Nay," she said calmly. "This is the way tae the place in the letter."

"It's nae," said Clyde impatiently. "An' besides, the stories I heard have put the treasure nearer to the McDougal hill."

Fiona fixed him firmly with her gaze. "Nae the stories I ken," she said shortly. Then, she pulled out the parchment. "An' besides, I ken where my father means in the letter. It's a place we used tae go tae as bairns."

But to her surprise, Clyde did not move. "Nay," he said, adamant. "This is still the right way."

"Clyde," she said, exasperated. The skies were blowing a gale,and throwing in a great handful of hail while they were at it. Now was really not the time for a conference over directions. "Clyde, this is the way tae the place in the letter. At least, the place sounds as if it is. Listen, trust me. I ken..." Fiona tried appealing to Clyde's good sense, but it did not seem to be working.

"Nay," said Clyde, shaking his head resolutely. "Ye forget, milady, this part o' the world is my clan, an' somewhere I ken well."

Clyde had started going again, this time at a fair trot. Exasperated, Fiona watched him go.

"Aye, but—" began Fiona. Internally, she was growling. The way that Clyde had said milady grated badly. It was as if he was teasing her, and the look on his face as he said it made it clear. He was laughing at her. Despite that, Fiona shadowed him, albeit slowly.

"Clyde, nay!" she began. But Clyde did not listen. If he had, he would have seen Fiona's face as he cantered on. Her eyes had widened, and she waved her arms at him.

"Ye see, Fiona, this is my clan," began Clyde, casting his head toward the open road before them. Another handful of hail came flying, plucked from the skies. But it didn't stop Clyde.

Blindly, he plowed ahead. "An' I ken every inch o' it, an'—"

Splosh!

With no warning, Clyde was almost to the waist in mud.

Or at least his horse was.

Out of nowhere, he had plowed straight into a ditch, which he had somehow not seen. But Fiona had. Stifling a grin, she pressed her hand to her face and tried to stop giggling.

"Och, Clyde, I tried tae warn ye!"

Sheepishly, Clyde pulled himself out of the puddle. Watching him, Fiona offered help.

"Dinnae fash," said Clyde, pursing his lips. Fiona could tell he was more than a little tense.

Fiona thought it best to say nothing and merely watched as both Clyde and his horse regained their composure.

"It's only a wee drop o' mud." Clyde smiled, suddenly cheerful again. There was a twinkle in his green eyes. His earlier good humor had been restored, and Fiona felt an urge to play with him.

"Maybe it's more," she said in semi-seriousness.

Clyde looked cautiously at her. The wind rippled through his dark hair, revealing the edges of his hairline. Then Fiona grinned.