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The Lady of Clan MacKinlay

Page 8

by Cecelia Mecca

“That is the question,” Niall’s more temperate brother said, “we are here to answer.”

None spoke immediately, and Niall took the opportunity to peek again at the sister. Still, she looked at him.

Bold, my lady, are we not?

She seemed to defy any judgment his silent question held. Though, in truth, it held none. Niall had never seriously entertained marriage, knowing eventually he must. But when he did think of the type of woman who he’d wish by his side for a lifetime, it would certainly be one more like his mother than his Aunt Margaret, who spent her days nodding in agreement with his uncle even when he acted like an arse.

Of course, neither would it be a woman who was his bitter enemy, but there was no doubt Lady Avelina intrigued him.

“It seems we will not solve this so easily,” Lady Avelina said. Clearly, the sister held a certain position in the clan, and with her brother, to speak so freely. Even if that same brother did appear more than a bit annoyed with her interference. Though he said naught to stop her. “Shall we go, then? To see these cattle?”

Every man in the hall turned their attention to Lady Avelina. For her part, the sister seemed unbothered even if some of the looks were less than friendly. Fergus, for instance, glared at her as if she’d suggested the two clans become allies and not journey two days together. Though Niall did not relish the idea of being in MacKinlay’s presence for so long, ’twas not a bad idea.

“We can leave immediately,” he said. “Despite it, we cannot guarantee the cattle will still be there.”

“Ach,” Fergus said, “of course you cannae.”

“Enough,” the chief said. He locked eyes with Niall.

The hate coming from him was understandable, and Niall could not deny a measure of his own. He’d been raised to believe there was nothing closer to hell than a MacKinlay clansman. And yet, Lady Avelina looked to him more like an angel than the devil incarnate.

“You would be amenable to this plan?” MacKinlay asked him.

With a quick glance at his brother, Niall answered, “Aye.”

As decisive as Niall had seen him, MacKinlay stood up. “I will summon the kitchen to offer you a meal. And then we leave immediately.”

“We’ve as little wish to remain here the eve as your guest,” Niall said, “as you do to host us. But surely you’d prefer to wait until morn. There was an inn in the village—”

“Every moment we delay is another the cattle may stray.”

“A true enough fact,” Kieran said.

“We shall leave at once. You’ve two men. We will bring the same number.” Ewan turned to Fergus, who nodded.

“Fair enough,” Niall said.

Then the three words were spoken that he’d secretly wished to hear and also dreaded.

Lady Avelina said, “I am coming.”

Chapter Six

“Quickly,” she said to her lady’s maid.

Mary had come to her years ago as the daughter of a poor family from the village. They’d met at the blacksmith’s shop, and at the time, Avelina had no maid. When her mother died the year after their father and so many other MacKinlay men were slain in the Battle of the Black Friars, Avelina had chosen not to need anyone. Not a maid. Not a husband, which her brother had attempted to secure for her in the years since. Not knowing if they might stay or leave, she wished to rely on none, hence her insistence on learning to wield a bow and arrow.

Though they’d never met before, when she and Mary first shared a space in the corner of the blacksmith’s shop—Avelina to speak with the man on her brother’s behalf, Mary to procure nails from the smith—there had been a connection between them immediately. One she could not explain then, nor now, but that mattered little.

Now that Mary was married with a wee bairn, her duties had shifted slightly, and sometimes, Avelina could admit to herself, she missed the closeness they’d shared. ’Twas not the same since Mary had met her now-husband, but Avelina had come to accept the fact. Mostly.

“If they left without you, ’twould be a blessing, methinks.”

As Mary prepared her satchel, Avelina finished tying her boots. She’d changed into a riding gown, its deep green able to hide the marks that would come inevitably with travel.

“I would not miss it for the world. ’Tis the most exciting thing to happen in as long as I can remember.”

“More exciting than Alistair’s visit?”