Page 61 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

Once seated face-to-face, Grace succeeded in getting every last detail out from her—including a few she hadn't realized she was telling.

Smiling up at her, Grace's amber-brown eyes danced. She looked wryly amused. From her exhaustion, Fiona wondered how she managed to combine being a new mother and still look so sparkling.

"So then, ye’re sweet on this lad, an' ye want us tae rescue him...right?"

Grace's warm eyes flashed right at her. Confused, Fiona whirled her head around. There were stars. Maybe it was the tiredness. But it also could have been the sheer overload she felt.

"What? I didnae say that!" she said. Inside, she chided herself. She had been very careful not to say such a thing. She was still working out the details on how to rescue Clyde, but she had not wanted to admit to anyone her feelings for him.

Grinning, Grace shook her head. "Och, wee sister," she said, laughing. "I havenae kent ye too long, but it was obvious... ’Tis written all over yer face!"

"It is?" asked Fiona wearily. Surprised, she picked herself up. She felt her face with her hands, as if subconsciously trying to search for a trace of her emotion. She could not help feeling annoyance well up inside of her. She had thought she had hidden things better than that.

Apparently not.

"Aye," said Grace sympathetically. She was head to toe in green tonight, a color that suited her well. Looking at her sister's perfect attire, Fiona could not help but wonder what a poor state she must be in.

She had literally just dismounted from a day and night journey, following a harrowing ordeal. And she was sure it showed.

Judging by Grace's look, she was a hollowed-out shell. She certainly felt like one.

"But ye’re gonna go back?" said Grace, turning her face to one side. The faint imprint of a smile was on her cheek. From the main chamber, Fiona heard the elders clamor and leave.

The sound of thirty or so creaking hips leaving the chambers filtered through, along with the coughing, shuffles, and exaggerated breathing. As they passed by, Grace smiled and pulled a face.

Fortunately, she could not be seen, but the impression she did of McTavish—or whatever his name was—limping and scowling almost caused Fiona to convulse in laughter.

Emotions were flooding strongly through her. One minute laughter, the next, tears.

"But ye love him?" said Grace, her eyes examining her closely. "An' ye’re gonna go back an' help him?"

Slowly, Fiona nodded. She had tried denying it for so long, but it was no use.

"Aye," she said gradually. "I love him...an' I am going tae help him an' get the gold for the clan. Ye try an' stop me!"