Page 167 of Claimed Highland Brides

SUMMIT

They set out as the sun rose the next morning, Barclay still feeling the glow of the night with his wife. There had been something different about their lovemaking that night.

It was as if she gave me her whole self finally.

Barclay glanced at Aileen as she rode beside him, head down, seemingly lost in thought. He wanted her to look up so he could smile at her. Unfortunately, she did not seem to hear his unspoken plea. His new brother- and sister-in-law rode ahead of them, talking in low tones, and Barclay smiled, thinking of some future in which he and Aileen did the same thing.

Suddenly Daividh turned to him. “We should be at Drumacree by midday. Is there anything ye need us to ken or do afore we face yer uncle?”

Barclay blinked, trying to think about that. “I think we mun’ wait and see what objections he comes up with and then answer them.”

Daividh nodded. “Vera weel. We shall follow yer lead.”

Barclay nodded gratefully at the unconditional support. It brought a lump to his throat that these virtual strangers were willing to do so much for him. After all, they had not seen him since he was but a wee boy. For all they knew, he had grown up to be a complete ruffian. But on the strength of old acquaintance, they were willing to vouch for him.

Well, not only old acquaintance…

His eyes flicked to Aileen, who still was looking at anything but him. He wondered if he should be concerned about that. But then his father’s words seemed to float on the cool morning breeze towards him.

Dinnae borrow trouble when ye have enough to be going on wi’.

He snickered and saw in his periphery that Aileen was looking at him. He turned to meet her quizzical gaze, still smiling. She smiled shyly back, and his heart settled. Reaching out a hand, he plucked hers from the reins and squeezed it.

“Alrigh’?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “I’m fine.”

* * *

They arrived at Drumacree at midday as promised and stopped at the inn to have a bite to eat. Aileen felt more and more nervous as the time approached to meet with Gilroy. She had a bad feeling about it all and was on the verge of suggesting they abandon the meet and go back home when Daividh got to his feet. “’Tis time. We should go.”

Barclay nodded, getting to his feet as well to follow the laird out. With a sigh, Aileen took her sister’s proffered hand and followed them. They walked to Aifric’s house. The soothsayer lived on the edge of town in a cottage sitting on an acre of land. She had no gate, but the entrance to her property was decorated with various occultist instruments not familiar to Aileen. She had a feeling, though, that nobody entered the compound whom Aifric did not want there.

The soothsayer herself was waiting at the door of her cottage, her visage grave. Daividh made a leg and greeted her in the Gaidhlig. She acknowledged him before her eyes went to Barclay, and she nodded to him. “Ye’re welcome home then, young MacFarland.”

He stepped forward. “Thank ‘e. That is much appreciated.”

She took a step back and turned. “Come in. Yer uncle hasnae arrived yet. He should be here shortly.”

Daividh gestured for Barclay to precede him. Barclay took hold of Aileen’s hand and led her inside the surprisingly spacious cottage. They took a seat while a young woman served refreshments. They had barely settled when they heard a commotion at the door, and Gilroy burst in. He stopped short as he saw that Barclay was not alone and sneered.

“I see ye brought reinforcements.”

Barclay got to his feet, his brow furrowed with annoyance. He turned, gesturing towards Aileen. “Reinforcements? Ye mean my wife?” He then turned towards Daividh and Fiona. “And my in-laws?”

Gilroy sneered. “I suppose ye think ye have me checkmated with this marriage?”

Barclay lifted an eyebrow. “The facts do speak for themselves.”

Gilroy stepped right into Barclay’s personal space. “I’ll gi’ ye that land o’er my deid body,” he spat.

Barclay’s lip curled. “Tha’ can be arranged.”

Aifric stepped in. “Now, now, gen’lemen. This isnae how to conduct a negotiation. Sit ye both down.”

To Barclay’s surprise, Gilroy obeyed. He took a seat in an armchair far from the sofa around which Barclay and his new family were gathered. Aifric took a seat between them, looking unperturbed by the air of hostility and violence in the air. She turned to Barclay. “Ye are newly returned from yer mother’s people in Spain, are ye no’?”

Barclay nodded. “Aye.”