Page 30 of Fire in his Highland Heart

“Part o’ bein’ the laird is bein’ interrupted by yer subjects, is it not?” James asked cheekily.

“Usually my constituents make an appointment tae see me,” Blake answered dryly, now focused on getting out utensils for drafting correspondence.

“Has his lairdship no time for a friend?”

“James, ye live in the castle. I see ye every day in me office. What d’ye want taeday?”

James heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. “See, this is why no one wants tae marry ye.”

“On the contrary, I’ve had several offers,” Blake reported, as if these were daily facts of life.

“Doesnae the man do the offerin’?” James asked, confused.

“For lairds, ‘tis different. Families will present their women with a dowry. I can accept or decline.”

James shrugged. “Mayhap ye’d like a businesslike transaction better. Clearly yer not fallin’ in love again.”

That struck a nerve with Blake, for whatever reason. He banged his fist on the table, startling James and causing him to jump. “I have lost things! Things ye’ll never understand!” he thundered.

James sat up straight in his chair. The color drained out of his face. It wasn’t often he felt the full extent of his friend’s anger, so he had forgotten quite how formidable the man could be.

“I ken, Blake, I ken. I’m truly sorry. ‘Twas out of place.”

Blake seethed behind his desk. “Now, if ye dinnae have anythin’ constructive tae offer me, then I’ll ask ye tae take yer leave.”

James nodded, but he had come in with a curious itch that needed to be scratched. “I wanted tae ask ye about that new healer.”

Blake heaved another sigh. “The new healer?” he asked, as if he had no idea what his friend meant. Long ago, he’d learned it was better to act disinterested unless necessary.

“Ye ken, the one we rescued on the moors. Silver hair, blue eyes, bonnie face an’ figure...” his voice trailed off, as Blake looked at him with derision once more.

“Arguen Larimore,” he said.

“Aye, Arguen.”

“What about her?”

James sputtered. “What d’ye mean, what about her? A strange woman shows up on yer doorstep with naught but a letter from her brother, an’ doesnae tell ye from what she’s runnin’ from. Are ye not curious?”

“Aye, ‘tis a curious situation. But the town does need another healer. Mrs. Kinney cannae keep doublin’ as a midwife and healer for all the castle an’ town.”

“But Arguen refuses tae tell ye why she’s runnin’.”

“She’s no runnin’ anymore.”

“I mean, she’s bonnie, but what if she’s a spy?”

Blake rolled his eyes. “For whom?”

“The English!” James shouted.

“Nay, she’s no spy. Douglas’s letter was clear in that regard.”

“Ye trust a man ye havenae seen in years?” James asked.

“Aye. I did match the writing to another older letter o’ his to make sure. An’ I do trust Douglas with me life.”

“So what d’ye make of Arguen, then?” James asked.