Page 124 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"Och, aye, I like her," said William, giving what may have been the understatement of the decade. "So there..."

He turned on his horse, under the pretext of going after the next grouse, but really, he just wanted to get away. Behind him, Fiona followed. For a few moments, they trotted together, rustling through the glades. In the meantime, William tried to get his thoughts together, as well as his temper.

Stark white light filtered through the dense woodland branches. In the haze, it was hard to see it right. Somewhere, in the distance, the grouse landed, ruffling its feathers and beating them hard. The noise echoed through the woodlands for miles.

Shielding his eyes, William strained to see it. He couldn't. That did not stop him from raising his bow and aiming hard.

"Ye'll nae get her," said Fiona annoyingly. "She's out of yer range."

William looked at his sister warily. Was she talking about Nora or the grouse?

"Ye dinnae say?" said William. Taking the challenge, he raised his arms.

"Aye, I say," said Fiona, an amusement creeping into her voice. "But go ahead, all the same."

In the early morning light, her face was lithe and gay—at total odds with William. For him, the day had started all too early. His sister had come around, demanding an early morning hunting ride, one he had apparently promised her some time previously.

Trying to say no didn't wash. Against his sincerest wish, William had found himself at stupid o'clock, pointing his bow shakily at a hazy shape in the bushes.

It should have been easy. The bird was still, and there was not even yet the coverage of leaves on the branches to hide it. And yet, somehow, William slipped. His arrow soaring overhead, the bird was alerted and flew off, leaving William thwarted and Fiona laughing.

"Och, 'tis nae e'en the season," growled William, as Fiona threw her head back and laughed. William's irritation simmered as his sister eyed him curiously.

"So, ye like her then?" she asked, pushing the hair from her eyes. This morning she was not in full formal attire, headdress dispensed with. Her hair was piled simply on her head, except a few strands had sneaked out.

William watched her wryly. She looked better with simple hair; all lasses did. Why did they hide it in all those big pillow things? He could not fathom it. An immediate picture of Nora's hair, all flame-tinted and flowing, came to him, and he felt happy.

"Aye, I like her. I ken that has been established," William said this shortly, but his features had softened. He had thawed.

"Och," said Fiona, looking away. Casually, she pulled her bow out, effortlessly shooting a grouse. It fell from the tree right in front of him. Grinning, she trotted forward to collect it.

"Braw, och, bonnie wee hen," said Fiona, lifting the bird triumphantly. William watched her unsurely. "Perhaps nae so oot o' yer range after all?"

Fiona winked, and William blushed. Then he sighed.

"I dinnae ken," he said. He had not expected it, but suddenly, he was pouring his deepest feelings out to his bossy sister. "The thing is, I dinnae ken if she feels the same."

Fiona's eyebrow raised.

"I mean, after oor kiss last night…"

She looked at him wryly. "Och, so ye kissed her?"

William blushed some more. How did his sister make him feel like this? Like he was three years old and caught with his hands in the honey jar?

"Aye, Sister, an' she kissed me back. Twice," he added, trying to find some way out of his embarrassment.

Fiona laughed. Again. How William wished she didn't seem so damned amused.

"So, let's get this straight. The wee hen kissed ye back, an' ye're still here fashing yer bonnie head aboot whether she likes ye or nae?" Fiona's eyes sparkled.

William conceded defeat. "Aye," he said, looking down at the limp grouse as his sister slung it casually into her sack and fixed him with a broad grin. "Och, 'tis nothing, really. 'Tis her father who worries me."

"Her father?" said Fiona, sharp as a tack. "Well, aye, it should. Ye need to keep him sweet."

Without speaking, they had begun to leave the woods, Fiona evidently deciding their mission was completed. Silently, they trotted the few yards back out of the glade as Fiona appraised the facts.

"Nay, 'tis nae that. 'Tis…" began William, before realizing that he could not accurately name what it was that was bothering him. Instead, he sighed. "Nay. 'Tis nothing. Everything is braw."