Page 39 of Highlander’s Dangerous Gambler

There was a moment as Brodie appeared to take this in. For a moment, McLeod was not sure what his reaction would be. Closely, he watched as his son looked around the dusty hall.

Brodie shuffled his weight from one foot to another. McLeod couldn't help noticing the new brat and plaid he had on and the rather expensive-looking brooch pinning it together.

No doubt that had come out of his coffers. McLeod smiled smugly. Finally, someone else would be picking up the tab for his son's expensive ways. And more besides!

After some considerable thought, a smile stretched across Brodie's lips. He appeared to be thinking.

"Bonny, ye say? Well, Father, when do I meet the lucky lassie?"

"Aileen!"

Fiona did not even wait for them to cross the threshold into the castle. The moment their horses pulled into view of the gates, she rushed to meet them.

And behind her, an entourage that followed—her sisters, brothers, some of the elders, and goodness knows who else. A veritable procession turned out to greet the errant maid as she trotted back in through the Duncan castle gates.

"Aileen, come on down. Let me look at ye!"

Fiona charged up to the white gelding and virtually dragged Aileen down off its back. On her horse, Aileen demurred. She could see the faces of the guards behind. It was embarrassing.

And that was an understatement.

"Fiona," murmured Aileen, but seeing the determination in Fiona's face made her back down. The fact she had rushed from the castle in such a manner made it clear her concern.

Reluctantly, Aileen dismounted as Scott looked on.

"Och, Aileen, ye silly wee bampot! How on earth did ye end up at the McLeod Estate!" fussed Fiona. Every now and then, her eyes went to Scott, still seated on top of his horse.

Behind her, Aileen was very aware of all the eyes. Eventually, a little voice broke through the crowd.

"Who is the soldier, Aileen?"

Aileen looked around. Standing behind his mother was Fergal, Fiona's four-year-old son. He lifted his dark-brown eyes up to Aileen earnestly. "Are ye going to marry him?"

There was a pause in which members of the clan turned to look at each other. Aileen stopped dead. She could barely bring herself to look at Scott just then. Who knows what on earth he thought. Then, laughter reigned.

"Och, sweeting," said Fiona with a grin, but the deft way she swept up the child suggested irritation. "Dinnae take any notice o' him!"

But her eyes went pertinently to Aileen, as if she was not quite sure what was happening. At that moment, Scott hopped down from his horse.

"My lady," said Scott, formally bowing before Fiona. Aileen could not help feeling a little irritated that Fiona warranted so much attention, but all the same, took the chance to observe the curve of Scott's behind. "I come with news from the laird that we must discuss."

He nodded his head at Fiona but had a glint in his eye that said he needed to be listened to. Fiona, as gracious as ever, nodded.

She had retained a little of her composure, so Aileen nodded, now acting every inch the lady of the clan.

"Of course," said Fiona, shaking herself slightly. Perhaps she remembered she was now the clan leader and needed to behave accordingly. In a trice, she had become the lady again, smoothing down her plaid robe and headdress. "An' ye shall share the news over dinner. Come, the table awaits!"

And with a surreptitious glare at Aileen, she smiled and walked off.

"Marriage?" Fiona's eyebrows almost shot off her head. If she had not been so concerned, Aileen would have laughed at her sister's face when she handed her the letter.

Unfurling the parchment, Fiona broke the seal on the McLeod letter before unfurling it fully.

"It's from Laird McLeod," said Scott, nodding. He looked into Fiona's face. She was very earnest tonight, her dark-brown hair completely tucked behind a formal headdress, while her clan robes reflected her piety and duty to the role.

Fiona sparkled in her long white arisaid but did not let Scott's eyes drop from her gaze once as she spoke. In contrast, Aileen was in danger of feeling a little left out.

Even though she was the entire subject of the debate, she could not help feeling a little drab and ordinary in comparison to her sister. In her borrowed riding robes, she felt untidy and dirty.