Devils Highlander (Clan MacAlpin 1)
“Archie is no fop!”
“Well who is he, then? Some pretty lordling? Can he protect you?” Cormac felt chagrin at the nobleman he'd never be and shame at his inability to protect his own loved one so many years ago. The raw emotions made his words come sharp. “Answer me. ”
“He appreciates the work I do. ”
“You
haven't answered the question. ” Some foreign emotion burned through him, turning his blood to acid.
Jealousy? he wondered distantly, and dismissed the thought at once. It was vexation he felt. That was all. Marjorie was a vexatious, exasperating, uncooperative, senseless woman. “Who in hell is he?”
“He's training to be a physician surgeon,” she announced proudly. “He offers his help each week, tending to the physical ailments of the poor folk of Saint Machar. ”
“A student?” he scoffed. “And what? He'll throw books at the smugglers and dock men? You honestly think this Archie will be of help to you?”
“Yes. ”
He turned to stalk out. “Then to the devil with both of you. ”
“The devil,” she called after him. “Why, Cormac, I'd thought that was you. ” Chapter 11
“Archie!” Marjorie exclaimed, sweeping into her uncle's drawing room the following morning. The day was overcast, and watery light filtered in through the windows, but Archie's easy countenance perked up the dreary room.
He came to her side, taking her hands eage
rly in his. “Marjorie, my dear. ”
“Archie, what an unexpected surprise. ” He was so tall and lean, and his long, thin hands were always so chilled.
She paid mind to not letting her smile flag.
Her maid bustled in close behind, bearing a tray of refreshments.
“Ah!” Face brightening, he let Marjorie's hands slip from his. “Your lovely maid. ” Marjorie could've sworn she heard Fiona mutter, “Now there's a gentleman. ” She frowned. Fiona was right. If only Cormac would show her a warm greeting once in a while. She surreptitiously scanned the room, but he was nowhere in sight.
Good. She'd seen him only once since their conflagration in the Westhall kitchen, and the silence between them had been deafening. He didn't want her help, and it goaded her. The man was brooding, and he was just as stubborn as he'd ever been as a boy.
Archie gravitated toward Fiona and the tray of food. “Shortbread. How delightful. There's nothing better than a bit of mid-morning sweet. ”
Fiona blushed.
Marjorie wandered to the tray, eyeing it blindly. Could it be that Cormac wanted her to stay away because she'd mucked things up so horribly in the past? With Aidan, and now again with Davie?
She must've made some inadvertent sound, because Archie turned to her as he swallowed his shortbread, concern clear on his face. “Marjorie, my dear. You must tell me how I can be of service. ” She took in the sight of him. Upright, clean-shaven, well-dressed… the man practically glimmered with principle.
Would that she could preoccupy herself with a man like Archie.
Blasted Cormac.
She harrumphed. Blast that she even thought about blasted Cormac.
Well, she didn't give a tinker's curse about his censure. She'd work to find Davie on her own. Still, it wouldn't hurt for him to see her efforts and successes. She pitched her voice a little louder, in case Cormac was within hearing range. Even though she hadn't seen him, she suspected he was lurking somewhere close at hand. “Oh, Archie, it's always so nice to see you. ”
He seemed surprised by the enthusiastic statement. With a nervous smile, he brought his hands protectively to her shoulders, and she felt a rush of affection. Dear, awkward Archie. Their mutual charitable interests had led them both to Saint Machar, where for the past few years she'd assisted him in treating the many boyhood injuries and illnesses that appeared on their doorstep. She fancied she had quite the knack for it.
“I came the moment I heard,” he told her earnestly.
“There'll be trouble for sure,” Fiona said, busying herself straightening chairs that didn't need straightening.