Beloved Highlander

“I cannot think straight until I eat,” Meg admitted, returning the smile.

He held her gaze across the steaming dishes, and his amber eyes were straight and frank. “I prefer a lass with an appetite.”

“Do you?”

He nodded, and suddenly he was so handsome he took her breath away. “I do.”

And then he smiled, a broad curl of his mouth that she experienced down to her very toes. If, Meg thought, she did not know better, if she did not know herself very well, and the complete lack of attraction she held for handsome men like this, then she would almost think he was trying to…that he was…Meg felt the blush rise slowly up from her neck, turning her face hot and uncomfortable. Anger followed, anger with herself for allowing her feelings to control her, and with him for whatever game he was playing.

They may be man and woman, but that did not mean they must necessarily flirt! Was that how he expected her to behave? Well, he would be disappointed. Meg had no intention of allowing the former Laird of Glen Dhui to be anything more to her than a man she expected to take her orders. And obey them. A man like…well, like Duncan Forbes…

She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he had already turned away. He seemed to have lost interest in her, and was twirling the pewter goblet between his long fingers, watching the metal change color in the candlelight. For a time they ate in silence.

“How is your arm, Captain?” That seemed a safe subject.

He flexed it a little, winced. “It will heal. I have had worse. My trade as a soldier ensures I am set upon on a regular basis.”

“But not usually by your own men?” she responded dryly.

He laughed at the barb. She had amused him again, delighted him again. But this time he did not flirt. Instead his amber eyes grew cool and watchful, as if he too were prepared to keep his distance.

“No, not often by my own men. Airdy is an exception. He is also a fool. A fool with a beautiful wife. Barbara wanted to leave him but Airdy would not allow it, so she came to me for help. Airdy misconstrued our…association. We fought a duel, and I won, but Barbara returned to Airdy. I can’t pretend to understand her reasons; I fear a woman’s mind is a puzzle to me.”

“And now she has run off and left Airdy, and Airdy blames you?”

“Aye, that is about it.”

“I heard him swear revenge on you for what he perceives to be your betrayal.”

“Airdy is a vengeful wee bastard.”

“Do you think he really means it? Or will he forget, given time and distance?”

“Airdy is the sort of man who would follow me to the edge of the world, Lady Meg. He is the sort of man who never forgets.”

Meg picked thoughtfully at a bowl of wild strawberries. So would he find Airdy first, and take action against him? Or wait until the moment of confrontation came, as he seemed to think it would? She was tempted to ask him, but when she looked up, he had that amused look on his face, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and perversely, she didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of being right.

“Do you think we can turn the Duke of Abercauldy from his chosen course?” she asked instead, setting aside her empty plate. The food had warmed and filled her; she was nicely replete. It was a shame

that Gregor Grant’s presence made her so edgy.

He took a sip of his claret, biding his time in answering. After a moment he looked up at her and sighed. “Abercauldy and your father have signed papers, and that means that legally your life is already bound to his. The next step is the priest’s blessing.”

Meg echoed his sigh. “I feared it was so. I should tell you that Abercauldy sent a message while I was away. It was couched in polite terms but there was iron behind the pretty phrases. He wants a firm date, so that he can set our marriage in motion.”

He was still watching her, but she could read little in his steady gaze.

“You have nothing to say to that, sir?” she asked with irritation.

“I have much to say, my lady, but none of it good.”

Her chin went up, her pale blue eyes sparkled, and a flush colored her pale cheeks. “I would prefer to hear it anyway, Captain Grant.”

“Very well. If your father has signed his agreement for you to wed the Duke, then there is now little room in which to move. It would help if you could persuade Abercauldy he has made a mistake, get him to agree to revoke the terms. But I have to say, it does not seem as though he will. He can insist upon a marriage between you. You will refuse, Lady Meg. Of course, you will refuse,” he said it clearly, his eyes insistent. “But when you do refuse, there is no reason for him to be a gentleman about accepting it. He can demand recompense.”

“Recompense? Do you mean he will ask us for money?”

“He can claim you have damaged his reputation.”