The Highlander's Christmas Quest (The Lairds Most Likely 5)

Right now, the forecast was storms ahead, if he was any predictor of weather – and female temper. He could see the funny side of her clansmen interviewing him for a role as her bridegroom. Kirsty was completely mortified.

"There’s nothing lily-livered about the Drummonds," he said.

"We can see that, sir." Johnny sent Kirsty a meaningful glance, only to receive a baleful glare in return.

Dougal supposed her reaction to the teasing – and while the questions were serious enough, there was a good element of teasing in the old men’s mischief – was yet another sign of how isolated Askaval was. At Bruard, people had been teasing him about his marital intentions since he was old enough to notice the lassies.

Kirsty folded her arms and frowned at the incorrigible old men. "Setting aside the subject of Mr. Drummond’s virility, are ye going to come and help me? We’ve only got a couple of hours of daylight left."

Johnny viewed her speculatively. "In return for one round, Kirsty lass?"

Despite herself, Kirsty laughed. Her good nature impressed Dougal. "Two, if ye look lively and dinnae spend the rest of the afternoon embarrassing our guest."

"Och, I wasnae embarrassed," Dougal said. "A bit of curiosity is to be expected."

Bill looked triumphant. "You’re all right, laddie."

"Indeed he is." Johnny stood up. "Come on, lads. These trees willnae cut themselves. And our Kirsty needs a chaperone or two."

"She does no’," the girl spluttered. "Ye go too far, Johnny."

"Just see ye dinnae. We remember what it was like to be young, do we no’, boys?"

"Aye, we do indeed," Bill said, a nostalgic light in his faded blue eyes.

"Put some of this mischief into helping me get ready for Christmas," Kirsty said.

"For two rounds?" Jock asked hopefully.

"We’ll see," Kirsty said, marching off with an annoyed swing of her hips that caught Dougal’s eyes. Fair Ellen or no Fair Ellen, he defied any red-blooded male not to appreciate the fine sight of Miss Kirsty Macbain stalking away in high dudgeon.

He caught Jock’s bright eye on him and realized his interest had been noted. And approved.

"I’m only here until tomorrow," he said, although he owed the old miscreants no explanation or apology for his interest in a pretty girl.

"So you’ve said, laddie," Jock replied in a deliberately neutral voice that had Dougal’s eyes narrowing in his direction.

"Aye, so you’ve said, Mr. Drummond," Johnny said.

"Miss Macbain knows that."

"I’m sure she does, Mr. Drummond," Bill said in an equally even tone.

"You’re off to find Fair Ellen of the Isles, we hear. That’s your business west of Lewis," Johnny said. "Nae time to linger, even to celebrate the Lord’s day."

Damn it, he was blushing again. "Ye heard about that?"

Johnny shrugged. "It’s a gey small island – and you’re the most interesting thing to happen here since Peg’s bitch had a pup with one brown and one blue eye."

In spite of his discomfort, Dougal couldn’t help laughing at these disgraceful old rascals and their nonsense. "Well, I can imagine that caused a sensation."

"Aye, best sheepdog on Askaval, but that’s by the by. They say you’re headed to Innish Beag."

No point now trying to hide his purpose. "Aye, I am."

"Why Innish?" Bill frowned. "I heard the lass was on Inch Kenneth off Mull."

Jock looked thoughtful. "While I heard she was kept in a tower on a rock west of Hyskeir."