"It'd tear ye limb from limb," Geordie said grimly.
"Would no'!" Rory snapped. " 'Tis more like I'd--"
Recognizing that a battle was imminent if she didn't intervene, Saidh put two fingers in her mouth and let loose with a loud, piercing whistle. Silence immediately fell, broken only when her youngest brother, Alick, grinned and said, "I wondered when ye'd shut them up."
Saidh ignored that and scowled at the seven very large men surrounding her like a circle of trees. "Now, if I've yer attention, mayhap someone could explain just what the bloody hell ye're all doing here?"
"Dear God, she swears like a warrior too," Alpin said with dismay into the silence that followed. " 'Tis like Laird MacDonnell, only in Lady Buchanan's skirts."
Her brothers immediately all began shouting again and Saidh turned to cast an exasperated glare at the boy in the bed for causing it. Her head then whipped toward her brothers with surprise as she was caught by each arm and hauled toward the door. Saidh allowed herself to be dragged for a couple feet out of sheer surprise, but then began to struggle.
"What do ye mean they went up to me room?" Greer asked with confusion, turning away from the empty trestle tables in the great hall to stare at Bowie. "I told ye to seat them here, serve them drinks and tell them I would only be a moment."
"Aye, but they asked where their sister was, and Lady MacDonnell's maid happened to be passing and said that she'd gone to look in on Alpin with your Aunt Tilda, and the Buchanans just . . ." He shrugged helplessly. "I could no' stop them. There were seven, and they moved so quick they were halfway up the stairs before I e'en realized they were--" He paused and glanced toward the upper landing with wide eyes when a loud crash came, muffled, from one of the rooms. "Dear God, ye do no' think they're holding yer aunt responsible and attacking her. Do ye?"
Cursing, Greer hurried for the stairs. He took them two at a time, aware that Bowie was on his heels. If he hadn't already been told the Buchanans had gone up to his room, he would have known where they were by the loud bangs and curses coming from it. Truly concerned now for Saidh, Alpin and his aunt's well-being, Greer charged through the door, only to come to a startled halt.
Alpin lay in the bed where he'd left him, sitting up with excited color in his cheeks. Both his Aunt Tilda and the maid he'd left to tend Alpin sat on the sides of the bed. The three of them were staring wide-eyed at the chaos at the foot of the bed. There were three men, rolling on the floorboards, clutching their groins and moaning, another just getting painfully to his knees, and three more trying to subdue an apparently furious Saidh while avoiding her swinging fists and kicking legs.
Greer opened his mouth to bellow, but then paused and winced as Saidh suddenly lashed out a leg at one of the three brothers circling her. She got him with a kick to the groin that Greer could feel down to his very soul. He had to actually fight the urge to cross his legs and cover his own groin in sympathetic pain.
"God's teeth, that had to hurt," Bowie muttered behind him, and Greer gave himself a shake and started forward.
"What in the bloody hell is going on here?" he roared.
"See! I told ye," Alpin said excitedly. "They sound jest like each other. 'Tis the very thing she said."
Greer scowled at the boy briefly, but then recalled he was ill and probably delirious and started to turn back to Saidh and her brothers just as he was tackled to the floor by the two still standing men. He hit the floor hard, the air briefly knocked from him, and was just beginning to get it back when Saidh suddenly let out a roar and launched herself on top of her brothers, who, sadly, were on top of him.
Greer groaned as the air left him again, sure this time that it would not return. As he waited to die, he heard Saidh bellowing, "Leave him be, ye great gouks! He's naught to do with this!"
For some reason that made him smile and he opened his eyes to see that she had one brother in a headlock and was viciously twisting the ear of the other. Damn, she did not fight fair, he thought with a grin.
"Good morn, sweetling," he said when she glanced his way and their gazes met over the heads of her brothers.
Saidh blinked, then grinned at him and managed a breathless, "Good morn, m'laird."
"He's everything to do with this!" the man whose ear she was trying to twist off growled. "We came to rescue ye from him, ye witless cow."
"Oh dear," Lady MacDonnell breathed as every last man in the room suddenly went still as if holding their breath in the face of a storm. Even the moaning and rolling stopped.
"Now, Saidh, love," the man she had in a headlock said quickly. "Dougall did no' mean that."
Saidh remained frozen for a moment, and then suddenly thrust herself off of the three men, popping back to her feet with impressive speed. She withdrew her sword and slammed the flat side of it against Dougall's arse just as quickly and growled, "Let 'im up or I'll skewer ye, Dougall Buchanan."
Greer glanced to Dougall as the man released a heavy sigh. Resignation crossing his features, the man then stood and offered his brother a hand up as well. Free of their combined weight, Greer got quickly to his feet, watching with interest as Dougall took a moment to brush himself off. Since he'd landed on Greer, there wasn't really anything to brush off, so he suspected the man was either trying to come up with a way to ease his sister's upset at his insult, or he was delaying facing her in the hopes that her temper might cool a bit. Perhaps it was both, Greer thought with amusement and started toward Saidh.
He immediately found his way cut off by seven large, grim-faced men. Even the ones who had previously been rolling on the floor were suddenly upright and blocking his way, though a couple were grimacing in pain and wincing as they did it.
Greer raised an eyebrow. "Which one o' ye is Aulay?"
The last man Saidh had taken out with a kick to the groin moved forward. His jaw tightened as he did, but otherwise he showed no sign of the discomfort he must be feeling. Greer found that rather impressive since he knew men who would still have been, not only rolling on the floor, but weeping copiously as well. The only thing he could think was that either these men were used to such blows, or they were eunuchs.
"I'm Aulay, Laird Buchanan," the man snarled with a fierce glare made more fierce by the scar that divided one side of his face.
Greer nodded. "Ye got me invitation then?"
"What invitation?" Saidh asked, unconsciously lowering her sword and stepping closer to the backs of the men between them.
" 'Twas no' an invitation. 'Twas a call to battle," Aulay snarled.
"Aye, a call to battle," one of the other men growled, and all seven of them moved a threatening step closer.
Greer eyed the men warily and pursed his lips, trying to recall what he'd written. At the time, he'd been rather eager to return above stairs to Saidh's room and had rather rushed his way through it so that he could pass the message on to one of his men. He'd wanted the message delivered at once to set things into motion. It was possible he'd--
"Ye said ye'd ruined Saidh," Aulay snapped.
"What?" Saidh squawked.
"Aye," one o' the men assured her. "He said he'd ruined ye like a gooseberry pie left out in the rain."
"The hell I did," Greer snapped, embarrassed at the very thought that someone might believe he'd write such utter nonsense. "I wrote nothing about gooseberry pie."
"Oh, nay," the man agreed apologetically. "Ye just said ye'd ruined her. I added the gooseberry pie for effect."
"Oh, leave off, Alick," one of the other men snapped. "Do ye always ha'e to sound like a troubadour?"
"What the devil's wrong with sounding like a troubadour?" the man asked with affront. " 'Tis a much-valued skill."
"Enough," Aulay barked, bringing immediate silence. He then glowered at Greer, which would have been more effective if Greer hadn't seen him roll his eyes in exasperation just moments before. The man wasn't the emotionless warrior he showed to the world.
"Ye ruined me sister," Aulay accused.
"Aye, but I pl
an to marry her. And I asked fer yer blessing in the message."
"And then ye added that with or without it, ye'd marry her anyway," Aulay snapped.
"And I will," Greer assured him.
"The hell ye will," Aulay snarled and the other men all growled like hungry dogs and moved in closer on another threatening step.
"Ye handled yer brothers most masterfully."
Saidh dragged her attention from the men surrounding Greer and glanced around with surprise to see that Lady MacDonnell had stood and moved to her side without her noticing. Smiling crookedly, she murmured, "Thank ye. But I ha'e an unfair advantage as I told ye."
"I did notice that they tried very hard to subdue ye without hurting ye, while ye were unhampered by such a restraint," Lady MacDonnell said with a grin. "Still, they are seven fine, strong lads, and I was quite impressed," she assured her, and then patted her arm and said, "I think I should like it verra much if ye'd call me Aunt Tilda from now on."
"Oh," Saidh said with surprise, and then smiled and nodded. "Thank ye, m'lady . . . I mean Aunt Tilda."
Lady MacDonnell nodded and then patted her arm once more. "I also think ye should take control o' the situation again ere these men decide yer future fer ye. Men often do what they think ye want and get it wrong without yer guidance."
"Aye," Saidh said on a sigh. She'd been so flummoxed by the bit about marriage, that she'd simply stood there afterward, completely bemused. Thanks to Aunt Tilda, she wasn't bemused anymore, though. Sticking two fingers in her mouth, she let loose a piercing whistle like the one she had earlier.
The men fell silent and turned to peer at her.
"I am no' ruined," she said firmly.
"Aye, lass, ye are," Greer assured her solemnly. "Well and truly, thrice or four times by me count." He frowned. "Surely ye recall last night?"
Her brothers turned back to him growling and Saidh rolled her eyes, glared at Greer, and asked dryly, "Are ye trying to get yerself killed?"
"Last night?" Aulay asked suddenly. "But we got the message last night."
"Aye, I sent it ere I went back up to Saidh's--"
"That is why ye left me sitting naked on the bed?" Saidh asked with disbelief. "To write me brothers?"
"Well I could hardly take yer innocence without first making provisions to protect ye," he pointed out reasonably.
"I do no' need protecting," Saidh snapped.
"Just a minute," Dougall said. Scratching his head, he faced Greer and asked, "Do ye mean to tell us that ye wrote to tell us ye'd ruined our Saidh, and that ye were wedding her, and then went up to do the actual ruining?"
"The man's daft," Geordie muttered when Greer nodded.
"Aye," Alick agreed. "Ye can no' marry a daft man, Saidh."
"I am no' marrying anyone," Saidh said shortly.
"Well ye ha'e to marry someone if ye're ruined," Conran said reasonably.
"I am no'--" Saidh bit off the denial, her jaw clenching, and then asked, "Conran, are ye ruined?"
"What?" he asked with surprised amusement. "Nay, o' course no'."