Page 4 of Twelfth Knight’s Bride

“Nay, lass. Yer clan reaved us first, remember?” James argued.

“Because who reaved us before?” She tapped her chin, feigning to ponder. “Oh, that’s right. Yer faither.”

James groaned, raising his eyes heavenward with barely leashed composure.

“But what does this have to do with us?” she asked. “Or more specifically, me?”

“The lad rode here. Through these very gates, nay more than ten minutes ago,” MacDonald said. “And they say ye’re the only one to enter this afternoon. Coincidence?”

“Ach, do I look like a lad?” she asked, though she regretted her question the moment she asked it. His smile lifted dangerously. Good God above, she’d opened herself to an insult of the worst sort.

“Ask no’ a question ye wish no’ to be answered,” he quipped. She balled her fists. “Produce the culprit, and we’ll have nary a problem,” the MacDonald said, holding her glare as he resituated his grip on his reins with a creaking of leather, clearly annoyed that this questioning was taking so long.

“Yer thief didnae come here,” she replied. “I’m the only one who’s been out riding. Our lads must labor overmuch to compensate for all that has been stolen from us and havenae time for countryside leisure, and if ye must ken, in sooth, I was out hunting.” That much was true. She’d been pursuing hares when she’d left Urquhart and had merely happened upon the MacDonald camp. “Unsuccessfully, I might add. Which means, once more, we’ll go hungry.”

She folded her arms, unable to tame her tongue. She wanted to needle this bastard who had made life difficult, made her and her sister’s marriage prospects sink as deep as Loch Ness, for with their poverty came the lovely benefit of no dowry. Hers had been stolen, complete with the beautiful pearl earrings inlaid in gold that their mother had gifted both Peigi and herself. Aileana had kept hers in her jewelry chest, which MacDonald had stolen. No one would wish to marry a lady who brought no wealth to the table, except maybe a lowly baron.

But her attempt to thwart his curiosity backfired. The anger in his brow softened as his eyes drew together to search her face, traveling over the ridges of her cheekbones and nose, her earlobes that sat empty of adornments—unlike Peigi’s, for Peigi still had the earrings their mother had given her. She’d been wearing them that fateful day. I suppose there is merit in decorating myself like a lady.

His assessment traveled over her wild red-brown hair tumbling over her shoulder from her ribbon, over her figure again, making her squirm while fluttering ravaged her belly. What was he looking at? She’d never been the bonny sister that the men enjoyed glimpsing. Peigi was comely, with soft, tantalizing cleavage; flared hips that she’d heard men mutter were good for birthing; pink cheeks; pillowy lips; and rich brown eyes like their brother, while Aileana had been blessed with plain hazel eyes and a faint speckling of freckles across her nose. And yet not once had James MacDonald turned his head toward her older sister who always turned a man’s head.

“On second thought…perhaps it was a lass who stole from me,” James finally concluded, a satisfied smirk darkening his face once again as he sat upright in the saddle. “Tell me, do ye wear trousers, my lady? I can see ye looking like a lad.”

She gasped. As did Elizabeth and Peigi. Shocked at his rudeness, she saw the corner of his mouth tip up. He knew he’d gotten under her skin. So he hadn’t been intrigued by her femininity, as she’d dared to think he might be—and why on God’s green earth did she want the animal to be interested?

“Mind yerself, James,” her brother growled, straightening his belts and filling his chest with a deep breath to broaden his already-broad torso. “There’s no need to be insulting. She’s lady-born and bred and will be treated so.”

“My sister doesnae see her beauty like we do,” Peigi spoke up. “Yer arrow, sir, was aimed to hurt.”

Bless her siblings for defending her. Still, the remark stung, reminding her that even with a dowry, she’d likely remain an untouched spinster, for what man wanted a woman with freckles?

“I ken nay who yer thief was,” Aileana began, her throat scratchy with emotion. “But I commend the lad for delivering justice, no matter how menial as a pile of vegetables, to a thief like ye,” she replied, and though she tried to bolster her confidence again, she knew the sting of his remark tainted her words now.

“I never said the thief stole vegetables.” Laird MacDonald’s smirk rose into a dastardly grin.

Her mouth dropped open to launch a rebuttal, when her words froze in her throat. Seamus exhaled long and low and perched his hands on his hips, his gaze flitting sidelong at her with increasing frustration.

“Aileana?” Seamus said, his voice gruff. “He speaks honestly—this time. He didnae say vegetables. Only food.”

Dammit! She’d ensnared herself in her own lie!

MacDonald, his handsome face, littered with scars, brightened with amusement as he leaned his forearm on the pommel like a spectator at a tourney. “Seamus Grant, have ye sunk so low as to send yer sister out reaving?”

Seamus’s frown deepened as he turned back to James. “I would never ask such a thing of a sister!” he erupted, then took a deep breath and turned to Aileana once again. “Ye conceived of this plot yerself, did ye nay?”

Aileana gaped at Seamus, gesturing to James like her brother was blind to the truth. “Because they have starved us out. They have left us with naught, and the king takes his sweet time deciding to award yer complaint. We have nothing. Am I supposed to let my people go hungry because this greedy cretin wishes to amass all our lands, all our cattle, and own all of the Highlands for himself?”

“This land was my birthright,” James growled. “It was stolen from the MacDonalds and parceled off to the king’s favorite men.”

“That was two centuries ago,” Aileana snapped. “Why continue to battle for something ye never had?”

“And why continue to aggress against me?” the devil rumbled. “For ye act like an innocent, but yer brother took up arms with our enemies and evicted me, declaring me an outlaw when I’m my faither’s direct and rightful heir.”

“Oh, posh! He’d never do anything of the sort!” Of what lies did he accuse her brother?

James’s mouth twisted as if he desired to deliver further rebuttal, but he chewed his words and clenched his teeth. “We all await the king’s decision on how to recompense ye. But it nay changes the fact that ye’ve stolen from me again.”

“Vegetables for our people. Nay coffers and cattle!” Aileana said, sweeping her arm wide to encompass the stronghold.