“Aye. My wee brother Gavin’s nanny, my household servants, and whichever tenants wanted to join us. With that many traveling, they should arrive in about a fortnight.”
Chapter Three
Laird Evan MacNeil’s expression was more surprise than anger, for which Katie was grateful. Perhaps if he could remain calm, she could explain her situation to him and convince him that MacDuff castle belonged to her through her mum’s family, and MacNeil and his brother would return to their home in Ar
gyll and leave them in peace.
And perhaps pigs might fly.
She sighed at the problem Evan presented, considering ’twas something for which she had not been prepared. The most important reason she’d made this move would remain her secret. There was no cause to involve this stranger in her troubles. She’d done what she needed to do and was bringing everyone here. And here is where they would all stay.
They strode up to the house, Katie having a devil of a time keeping up with his pace. The man’s legs were so long, it was hard to breathe and walk at the same time. She studied him as much as she could, his wild curly hair blowing in the breeze. His determined step was matched by the look on his face. She was certain he was not used to being thwarted.
The ground was rocky, and a few times she stumbled, but being a gentleman, apparently, he grabbed her arm and kept her from falling to the ground. Of course, had he been a real gentleman, he would not be forcing her to race him to the front door.
“Lass, you cannot just up and leave yer ancestral home and march across the Lowlands and take up another home. ’Tis not the way it is done.” He glanced at her sideways as he continued his march.
“Nay. Not now, mayhaps.” Pant, pant. “But ’twasn’t too many years ago that keeps were often attacked and taken over.” Pant, pant. “Consider this a peaceful siege—a surrender. On yer part, that is.” Her words barely made it out of her mouth, so out of breath she was.
Thank goodness he came to a stop right after they passed through the dilapidated iron gates surrounding the castle.
“Aye. A peaceful surrender for you.” He placed his hands on his hips.
“Nay, for you.” She mimicked his stance, although compared to his size, ’twas almost comical. In fact, so comical that he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Then he grew serious and placed his large hands on her shoulders. The warmth from his hands and the closeness of him, with the woodsy scent of leather and man, drifted between them and teased her nose. Her heart once again sped up. She did not wish to be attracted to this man. He was her adversary, and she would fight him for this land as much as their ancestors had fought for their lands. Maybe not with crossbows and boiling oil over the ramparts, but nevertheless, this was war.
“Lass, the place does not belong to ye. ’Twas a possession of Laird Brendan MacDuff, who stated in his will that the property goes to the next male in line, which is Laird Evan MacNeil.” He poked his chest with his thumb. “Me.”
“But ye are not a MacDuff.” She hoped her voice did not sound pathetic. She must show strength and determination so this man did not run all over her. She could not return to her home.
’Twas impossible.
“Neither are ye a MacDuff.” His smirk annoyed her more than his rough words thus far. He was treating her like a bairn who had lost her way and needed his help to find her house.
“My mum was Aileen MacDuff Stirling.” She fumbled in her pocket and withdrew the paper once again. “And I have proof that the land was stolen from my family many years ago.”
Evan ran his fingers through his hair. “If that is the case, then you should have appealed to the courts, or the magistrate, or whoever deals with such a thing.” He waved his hand around.
“Who would that be?”
“I dinnae ken who deals with land squabbles.” He pointed his finger at her. “Ken this, lass. Ye have no documented claim to this land, castle, or tenants. ’Tis been in the MacDuff clan for centuries. ’Tis always been that way, and ’tis that way now.”
Katie crossed her arms over her chest, spread her feet apart, and glared at him. “Ye are not a MacDuff, and I am a MacDuff. I am not leaving.”
“Ye are not a MacDuff, and ye are not staying.”
“Ach, are you two at it again?” Alasdair sauntered into the keep, with the cart, two horses, and the lass’s traveling companions with him. “Do ye think ye can stop yer squabbling long enough for us to see if there is food to be had in the kitchen? My poor stomach thinks my throat’s been slit.”
Evan pointed at Katie. “’Tis not over.”
Katie swatted his hand away and flounced off, heading to the castle. She passed through the keep, noting how well tended everything seemed to be. No doubt the villagers, crofters, and farmers brought their goods to the keep to sell. ’Twould be a pleasure to see to a castle that was not ready to collapse because most of its tenants had fled their beloved lands.
The minute she passed through the large wooden door to the castle, the aroma of fresh baking bread and some sort of roasting meat greeted her, reminding her how very hungry she was.
“Oh, something smells wonderful.” She hurried down the corridor and came to a halt when she arrived at a sizeable room that must have been the Great Hall. Slowly, she walked into the space. A good portion of the west wall was taken up with a fireplace that was large enough for several men to stand in.
Massive tapestries lined the walls, depicting battles and scenes of the hills and lochs of Scotland. The detail was incredible and even though many years old, they were absolutely beautiful. Her own hands twitched as she imagined how many hours and sore fingers it had taken to create them.