Page 375 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Sixteen

Four strokes of the clock chimed as Iain lifted the quill to tap the feather down noiselessly on his desk. The quill didn’t rise again as he stared at where his fingers gripped the nib.

“So, the lass is not so alone,” he said. “Edwin Hockley, Earl of Lansbury, brother of the lady’s dead husband, has come to claim his sister.” Iain shifted his gaze past Father Brennan to Thomas, who stood near the fireplace. “Mayhap you are gifted with second sight.”

His cousin shrugged. “It is said I have an uncanny way.”

“Uncanny is one word for it,” Iain murmured before looking again at Father Brennan. “I must thank you, Father, for sending Hockley and his men through Kalhurn pass. That gives us valuable time.”

“Thank the Lord I arrived at Fauldun Castle ahead of them.” He made the sign of the cross over his chest, then his mouth dipped into an almost vicious frown. “You cannot let him take her.”

“Never fear. I will not.”

“He is a cold one, that Sassenach,” Father Brennan bit out. “If his brother was anything like him, she is better off without either of them. Though, he is no fool. Do not mistake that.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. It is clear why the lass was at Montrose Abbey. You were right, Father.”

Father Brennan scowled. “You know I said nothing concerning the matter.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“You think yourself clever, do you not, man?”

“Perhaps not so clever,” Iain replied, “but not a fool, either. It was simple enough to deduce. A woman such as she would not sequester herself in remote Scotland for naught. She is full of life, passion, not the withering flower that so often craves convent life.”

“Not every woman who takes the veil does so out of a need for solace,” Father Brennan’s voice took on a disgruntled edge. “In some ways you are no different than that Sassenach,” he muttered.

“What is that you say?” Iain said.

“You have no more reverence for the church than he does. Likened it to a garbage heap.”

“A garbage heap.” Iain’s jaw clenched. “I never said such a thing. What exactly did he say?”

“I asked him if he would desecrate holy ground. He said, ‘One man’s holy ground is another’s garbage heap.’ ”

The quill snapped in Iain’s hands. “A threat, plain and simple.”

“Of course it was a threat. I am no more a fool than you,” Father Brennan replied acidly. “Though, that isna’ saying a great deal. Anyway, he knows you took her, Iain.”

“So it seems. One wonders how that is possible.” “Aye, one wonders,” Father Brennan said.

Iain slid his gaze onto Thomas. “Has my seer anything to say?”

Thomas shrugged. “This is beyond my scope, Cousin. Perhaps I have been nothing more than lucky.”

“Perhaps,” Iain said.

Father Brennan stood. “What do you plan to do?” The priest’s voice was hard, but Iain didn’t miss the unsteadiness.

Iain leaned forward, placing his arms on his desk. “I cannot think of a finer time for a wedding, can you?”

There was silence before Thomas roared with laughter. Father Brennan shot him a reproving glance, then said to Iain, “I know you want her, Iain, but is that all you can think about?”

Iain cocked a brow. “I would have thought you in favor of avoiding another feud.”

“Blast it, you should not be enjoying this half as much as you are.” The priest crossed the room to the sideboard. He yanked the top off one of the bottles and poured a hefty drink before facing Iain. “You would force her?” He snorted. “I would not have

thought it of you.”