Page 54 of Highlander’s Dangerous Gambler

Leading White Star slowly along the front of the grounds, Aileen frowned deeply.

In fact, she had no right to do anything at all.

He waited until she was gone before mounting Dunelm and galloping off. To begin with, Scott just wanted to get as far and as high as possible away from Duncan Castle.

His first thought had been to go home all the way back to the McLeod clan. But in truth, that prospect did not entice him a bit.

Even though Brodie was here, the McLeod estate only made Scott think of the man who was to marry Aileen. As Scott trotted out from the stables, he wondered how on earth he would cope if Aileen married this man.

Just the thought of him was enough to sour the lust for adventure that Scott had streaked through him. It was a wild day, and ordinarily, he would be careering away, the wind behind his hair. But now he was bereft.

Coming out of the stables, Scott immediately happened across Brodie's horse, followed almost straight away by Brodie.

Slowing to a trot, Scott glanced about to watch the scene unfurl. Both Brodie and Aileen danced about the training yard, spurring each other on. On the surface, it looked as if they were going to get a lot of practice learning to fight.

But it was cold. A savage wind blew in and out of the trees around the training ground, reminding Scott—as if needed any more help—that winter was on its way.

Angry at himself, Scott thrashed impatiently backward and forward. He didn't want to be here. There must be some way out of this conundrum.

But try as he might, Scott could not think of one. His laird was all-powerful, and by default, so was his son. Still struggling to contain his temper, Scott checked out the lands a little to the west of the castle.

Perhaps he could make his way there and hunt awhile before making his way back to the castle.

If he was fast enough, he could still make it there before sundown. From the distance, the neighboring clans shone through to him. Anything to get away from her and Brodie!

But just as he was leaving the gates, he caught a glimpse of Brodie pushing himself closely toward Aileen. She was laughing and throwing her head backward, exposing her beautiful neck and jawline.

Scott watched, transfixed, as he came closer, and spoke to her while watching him from the corner of his eye.

Then, imperceptibly, just as he was out of eyeshot, he gave a wink. It was just enough for him to see, but Aileen did not. She was oblivious, standing beside him and laughing at his stupid jokes.

Brodie made a hand sign, some sort of crude gesture Scott would rather not think about. Then, he laughed. Aileen, seeing nothing, simply laughed with him, but that and the wink to Scott made it clear that he was laughing at her.

Incensed, Scott found his head steaming. He just about stopped himself from going over there and ramming Brodie's head against a wooden post. The post was tantalizingly close to him, and Scott tried to filter out visions of squashing Brodie's brains out on it.

Instead, he waited as Brodie appeared to lead a smiling Aileen out of the training ground and back to the mainstay of the estate. As he went, he smirked, raising an eyebrow at Scott before disappearing into the gates.

By the time they had gone, Scott was choleric with rage. He jumped down from his horse and paced right into the empty training yard. All the guards had gone from the place, and it was just him, alone, and the wooden post.

Pacing closer, Scott felt his temper clam up, burning him between the ears. He was enraged at the way Brodie had been treating her and powerless to help in any way.

He knew all too well the laird's son's lecherous ways. He had seen it firsthand. And the thought of Aileen being his next conquest made Scott sick to the stomach.

Now Scott had reached the center of the yard. Breathing heavily, he almost knocked straight into the wooden post that the guards had been practicing their aim on. The post rammed against him, almost with some will of his own. Feeling the punch on his upper arm, Scott growled. Without thinking, he plowed straight into it, knocking it over and snapping it squarely in two.

Once started, it was hard to stop himself, kicking and pulverizing the wooden stump. Smashing it against the ground, Scott took an unusual relish in reducing the block to shreds.

Going at it with his sword, he slashed the piece until it was just shards on the training ground floor. Only then did he stop, grimly satisfied to look at his handiwork.

Shaking his boots, Scott mounted the black stallion. He was going to ride as far and high as it was possible to get in one day.

And to hell with the laird and his pig of a son!