Kilts and Daggers (3 page)

“Aye. The wee sister seems to have taken a liking to stalking the lad. Donna worry upon it. I talked to Torquil, and Lady Grace will speak with Katherine.”

“Our home has certainly changed, has it nae?”

“Ye should've thought about that before ye decided to wed the lass. So many women under one roof will surely put us all in an early grave.”

Ruairi chuckled. “Let me know if ye still see trouble brewing between Torquil and Katherine. Mayhap my lovely wife and I will have to have a chat with them. I cannae have a bloody war within my walls between my own kin.”

Fagan followed Ruairi out into the bailey where the first round of Walsinghams was ready to depart. Lord Casterbrook, the unlucky betrothed of Princess Grace, and Lord Mildmay, Ravenna's uncle, would soon be nothing but a distant memory. Fagan had to admit that he was much fonder of the latter. There was something about the poor bastard who captured Grace's heart that Fagan didn't like.

He couldn't place his finger on anything in particular, but Casterbrook was odd. Then again, look who the man was marrying. Fagan didn't think a priest could handle Lady Grace's obstinate behavior any better. But what man in his right mind would agree to take on such a burden? That was truly a mystery, one Fagan had no interest in solving.

Noticing Elizabeth standing by herself against the wall, Fagan approached her. “Lady Elizabeth, how do ye fare?”

“Oh, I'm quite well. Thank you, Mister Murray.”

“Ye donna have to stand on such propriety. Ravenna calls me Fagan. I would be honored if ye would call me the same.” When she gazed around the bailey and a look of sadness passed over her face, he added, “Donna worry. Ye'll be able to visit your uncle, and I'm sure he will come to visit ye.”

“Does Laird Munro ready his mount as well? I don't see him.”

Fagan lifted a brow. “Ian? Aye. It will nae be long before all are out from underfoot.”

“And does Laird Munro come here often? I heard Laird Sutherland say that he doesn't live that far from the Sutherland border.”

“First of all, Ruairi would be cross with ye if he heard ye call him Laird Sutherland now. Ye are part of this clan. He is Ruairi. I am Fagan. Understand?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes.”

“I know Munro may frighten ye with his fierce looks, but donna fash yourself over him. He will nae bother ye. Besides, ye are under Ruairi's protection. Ye have my word that nay harm will come to ye here. Ye are safe, Elizabeth.”

The lass spoke in a rush of words, shaking her hands in a nervous gesture before her. “Oh, you misunderstand. Laird Munro doesn't frighten me at all. I was only wondering when he'd return.”

Something in Fagan's gut cautioned him not to ask. Granted, he wasn't adept at reading the lasses, but he wondered what this was all about. Another disturbing thought came to mind. Surely the young lady wasn't pining after Munro. The idea was simply absurd.

Dear
God
.

Something clicked in his mind. Not only had wee Katherine taken a liking to Torquil, but now Elizabeth had her sights set on the neighboring laird. He'd definitely have to warn Ian to run hard and fast. When the Sutherland lands were invaded by an army of English lasses, Fagan had known the women would hold no prisoners in their wake, and his instincts were usually right.

“Pray excuse me, Fagan.”

Elizabeth walked over to the waiting carriages. As all four Walsingham sisters stood in the bailey, Fagan leisurely made his way to Ruairi's side. He knew that he should lend moral support to his friend, but he walked slowly enough to make sure the man suffered just a little. From the looks of things, Ruairi was drowning in a pool of English—something he deserved for bringing such chaos into the clan.

“Uncle Walter, Ruairi and I can't thank you enough for coming to our wedding.”

“I wouldn't have missed it. Your mother and father would've been proud, and you don't need to thank me, Ravenna. I'd do anything for you girls. You know that.”

Grace entwined her arm with Ravenna's. “I hope you mean that, Uncle Walter, because when I return to England, you and I are going to have a little chat.” Grace's eyes narrowed and something unspoken passed between them.

Lord Mildmay turned his head to the side, clearing his throat, while Fagan wondered what the wily minx was up to now. He couldn't wait until she returned to England because that would be one less problem he'd have to deal with.

Lord Casterbrook stepped forward and lifted Grace's hand, brushing a brief kiss across her knuckles. “My dearest lady, England will not be the same without your presence. I will count the days until your safe return.”

With all Fagan's might, he tried not to roll his eyes. He truly did. But when a little smirk escaped him, Ruairi elbowed him in the gut.

“I'll send my own private carriage for you when you are ready to return, and my men will escort you safely home.”

“Oh, that won't be necessary,” Ravenna interrupted.

Lord Casterbrook lifted a brow. “Oh…and why is that, Lady Sutherland?”

“The captain of my husband's guard will be escorting Grace home.”

The dust had barely settled as the carriages departed through the gates, but Grace couldn't hold her tongue any longer. Fagan had stiffened as though Ravenna had struck him, and his mouth was clenched tighter now, if that was even possible.

“Why? Why would you refuse to let Daniel send someone to escort me home? Ravenna, the last thing I want to do is travel home with…your husband's captain.” Grace was resentful that Ravenna hadn't consulted her first before volunteering Fagan's services. Not only could Grace see the man's discontent, but she could feel him seething with mounting rage. She'd made every effort to mask the look of disgust that she knew had crossed her face, but she wasn't sure if she'd succeeded. She was so angry with her sister that she really didn't care.

Ruairi placed his hand on Ravenna's shoulder. “Ye were supposed to let me talk with Fagan first.”

“My apologies, but I thought you already had.”

For several long moments, Ruairi stood huddled with Fagan as they spoke in Gaelic. When the conversation didn't appear to be ending any time soon, Grace's temper flared. How rude! The men knew she and Ravenna didn't speak a word of their savage tongue. By the tone in Fagan's voice, any fool knew that he didn't want to escort her, but when Grace heard “
bhana-phrionnsa
” fall from his lips for the hundredth time, she'd had enough.

“Laird Sutherland,” she interrupted vehemently. “I can assure you this
princess
will be just fine escorted home by her betrothed's men.” She looked at Fagan, and her eyes clawed him like talons. When he glowered at her in return, she turned and smiled at Ruairi. “Thank you for your kindness, but there truly is no need—”

“Och, lass, while ye stay in the Highlands, ye are my responsibility. Fagan will escort ye home, and ye have nay voice in the matter.”

Ravenna placed her hand on Ruairi's arm. “I know you mean well, but what about—”

“Ye know better than that, Wife. Everyone under my roof is my responsibility. I have a duty to protect them. I will not leave your sister's safety to chance. Lady Grace will be escorted home by my captain and his men. Now there is naught else to be said on the matter.”

Ravenna may have been silenced by her husband's dark expression, but Grace refused to let any man, especially a Highlander, decide what was best for her. She was about to speak when Fagan shot Ruairi a withering glance and something unspoken passed between them.

This time when Fagan spoke to Grace, the tone in his voice was rather pleasant. In fact, the man even smiled, and when he did, Grace found his grin to be irresistible. Perhaps Ruairi had given his captain a good scolding, because it was about time someone brought that wild dog to heel.

In a desperate attempt to try to dismiss the strange aching in her limbs, Grace depicted an ease she didn't necessarily feel. At least that was her intent until Fagan stepped forward and she found herself taking a quick, sharp breath. He lifted her hand, and when their eyes met, she felt a shock run through her.

“My dearest lady, Scotland will nae be the same without your presence. It would be my pleasure to escort ye back to England.” A devilish look came into his eyes. “I will count the days until your safe return.”

What. An. Idiot.

God, how she wanted to say those words aloud. When Ruairi tried to cover Fagan's words with a cough, Grace realized she never should've assumed anything about Fagan Murray. As he stood there with his sparkling emerald eyes, so arrogant, mocking Daniel's words, she wanted nothing more than to wipe that bloody smirk off his face.

She closed what little distance was left between them and whispered, “Eyes are not the only thing I know how to blacken, Mister Murray.” When he swallowed hard, Grace knew she'd won this particular battle.

“Grace!”

Ignoring Ravenna's reprimand, Grace pulled her hand from Fagan's grasp, lifted her skirts, and left them all standing in the bailey with their mouths agape.

* * *

“Please let me apologize on behalf of my sister. Sometimes Grace's behavior is rather—”

“Och, Ravenna, 'twas naught that wasnae deserved. I only wish my laird had spoken to me first about this quest.” Fagan's angry gaze swung to Ruairi, and Ravenna placed her hand on Fagan's arm.

“I will take responsibility for that. With all the excitement of the wedding, I thought Ruairi had spoken to you. I know that was his intention all along.”

“Aye, but I had hoped to get a few drinks in him before I told him,” said Ruairi in a scolding tone. He gave Fagan a brief nod. “Ye know Ravenna's sister is under my protection. If Casterbrook—”

Fagan held up his hand. “Ye donna need to say anything more. I wouldnae leave the task to Casterbrook's men either.”

“Truly?” Ravenna rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Daniel is a good man. He's good for Grace. Just because he's English does not mean—”

“It doesnae matter if he's English, Scottish, or French. In truth, I donna care what he is. Your sister is my responsibility, and until she's safely back in England where she belongs, I only trust my own men with her escort.”

Ravenna tapped Fagan playfully on the shoulder, and then her eyes lit up as though she held a secret. “Then let me be the first to offer you a word of advice if I may. If you're going to be traveling with my sister the entire way from Scotland to England, learn to keep your mouth shut.”

“More than likely wise words from the woman who knows her best. I'd heed my wife's warning if I were ye.”

“Donna worry about me. I can handle Lady Grace just fine.”

“Mmm… If you think that, you don't know my sister as well as you think you do. Pray excuse me.” Ravenna took a few steps away from the men and then turned around. “And Fagan? I wouldn't get too close to her if I were you.”

Not even aware of his actions, Fagan lifted his hand and rubbed his eye. He had to admit that being punched in the face by a woman was not a common occurrence.

“There, there,” said Ruairi in a singsong voice. “At least your eye is nay longer black and blue.”

“Arse.”

“Aye. Thank ye for nae removing my head in front of Ravenna. I did want to talk to ye beforehand.”

Fagan shrugged. “I'm nae thrilled to be in Lady Grace's company for that long, but ye did what was expected of ye. And I'll do what's expected of me. I'll see her back to England into the waiting arms of her betrothed. Howbeit ye'll owe me one hell of a favor, my laird.”

“Duly noted. Now that everyone has departed, 'tis about time we get everything back to the way it should be around here—quiet. I think we could all use the peace.”

“Peace? With four lasses under roof? Ye're truly praying for a miracle then.”

“Do ye think 'tis too much to ask?”

“What I think is that the only safe haven right now is behind the closed doors of your study with a pitcher of ale in hand.”

Ruairi slapped Fagan on the shoulder in a brotherly gesture. “Then let us have a drink, shall we?”

“Ye donna need to ask me twice.”

The men made their way to Ruairi's study, but as soon as Fagan closed the door, they hesitated. A steady thumping noise was coming from across the room. Ruairi followed the sound, and when he slowly pulled out his chair, a black mass of fur dashed out from under the desk.

“Angus, what the hell are ye doing in here?”

Two massive paws jumped up onto Ruairi's chest, and Torquil crawled out from under the desk.

“'Tis only fair that I have somewhere to go where Kat will leave me alone. She's driving me mad, and I know this is one place where the lasses arenae allowed.”

Ruairi lifted a brow. “Nor are ye.”

“Aye, well, I'm your son, a Sutherland. Ye can make an exception, can ye nae?” Torquil folded his arms over his chest. “Will ye tell Kat that if she doesnae have man parts, she's nae allowed in? Ye're the laird. She has to listen to ye.” Ruairi pushed Angus away, and the wolf moved to stand by Torquil's side. “Ye see? Even Angus agrees with me.”

Ruairi sighed and rubbed his hand over his brow. “Sit down, Torquil.”

The boy sat in the chair across from his father, and Angus lay down at Torquil's feet, ever the strong protector. The two of them had been inseparable since the wolf was a pup.

“Do ye want me to take my leave?” asked Fagan, not wanting to intrude on a private father-and-son moment.

“Nay.”

Ruairi poured himself and Fagan each a tankard of ale. When Ruairi lifted the cup and downed its contents in one gulp, Fagan chuckled. His friend was a laird, warrior, and husband, but out of all the duties Ruairi had, Fagan thought that being a father had to be the most difficult. He couldn't imagine being solely accountable for another person, especially one so young.

“I know ye're nae used to having lasses around.” Ruairi sat in the chair behind his desk and gestured for Fagan to sit. “This is going to take some adjusting on everyone's part, including ye.”

Torquil's eyes widened. “Me?”

“Aye. Did ye ever think how the lassie must feel? She's a long way from England—the only home she knew, away from her friends and what is familiar to her.” Ruairi placed his arm on the desk and sat forward. “Let me ask ye a question, lad. How would ye feel if I made ye leave Scotland, leave your friends, and live in a new home which wasnae familiar to ye?”

A serious expression crossed Torquil's face. “I wouldnae like it at all.”

“And what if ye tried to make a new friend and that person didnae want to have anything to do with ye?”

Torquil gazed at the ceiling, pausing. “All right, Da, but I donna like her chasing me.”

“Let me offer ye a word of advice,” said Fagan. “If ye keep running away from the lass, she's only going to chase ye that much harder. Talk to her. Mayhap if ye take her to the stables, show her where ye and Angus run, and spend some time with her, she will nae want to hunt ye down all the time.”

“I agree with Fagan. Ye need to try to spend some time with Kat. Not an entire day's time, mind ye. I'm certain she's feeling a wee bit alone, and I have faith that ye'll do the honorable thing. Ye're a Sutherland. Why donna ye take Angus, and ye two can go and find her now?”

“All right.” Torquil stood, letting out a heavy sigh when Fagan placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

“As I said, lad, show her some things ye like to do and places ye like to go. Make her feel welcome.”

“Come, Angus.” Torquil walked toward the door and grabbed the latch. “But if this doesnae work and she still gives chase to me, I blame the two of ye.” He closed the door, and Ruairi and Fagan chuckled.

“I donna know how ye do it.”

Ruairi shrugged. “Donna ye miss the days of our youth?”

“Aye. Although I wish I would've had Torquil's troubles. Who wouldnae want a bonny lassie chasing us around for a change?”

“There is that. I appreciate your help with him. I know this will take some time for Torquil too. But I want Ravenna and her sisters to feel at home, to be at ease.”

“Aye. When Lady Grace takes her leave, it will be even more peaceful around here.”

“Ravenna tried to warn me, but I asked myself how bad one lass could possibly be. Grace is verra bold, but at least she'll soon be wed. Let us hope Casterbrook doesnae come to his senses, lest I have another wily lass under my roof.”

Fagan lifted his tankard in mock salute. “Ye donna have to worry upon that. The lass will ne'er leave her beloved England. Thank God for small favors.”

* * *

Grace sought the solace of the garden and resumed her favorite place against the stone wall. The sound of the sea soothed her nerves, and a warm breeze blew through her loose tendrils. What was she thinking when she told Ravenna she would stay here for a month? She wondered if she should've accompanied Daniel after all. She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hands.

The fault was Fagan's.

She didn't know why she let the man get under her skin, and that was a place he'd been more often than not. If he thought her a princess, she'd be more than happy to play the role because royals didn't concern themselves with the hired help, even if the dastardly man was her brother-in-law's captain.

“There you are.” Ravenna moved to Grace's side and leaned her hip against the wall.

“Here to scold me, Sister?”

“I don't want to, but I wish you wouldn't be so…forward with Fagan. I know you don't care for him, but he's only doing as Ruairi commands.”

“The man drives me completely mad. How is it that he seems to be the only one who knows how to grate on my nerves? He always mocks me when he gets the chance, and frankly, I don't know how you put up with him.”

“I have to put up with him. He's the captain of my husband's guard. If Fagan annoys you so much, just overlook him. Don't pay him any heed and enjoy your time with us. As you said, you'll soon be Lady Casterbrook.”

“I know you're right, but that's another reason why I didn't want the man escorting me home, Ravenna. You should've let Daniel's men—”

Ravenna held up her hand. “One thing I've learned from my husband is that they do things differently here in the Highlands.”

“So I've been repeatedly told.”

Ravenna placed her hand on Grace's shoulder. “Why don't we gather Elizabeth and Kat and I'll take you to a place where none of you have yet been? I promise that you'll love it.”

Grace felt the corner of her mouth lifting into a smile. “When you say it like that, how could I possibly refuse such an offer?”

While Ravenna disappeared to ready herself for a brief excursion, Grace wandered around the castle looking for the girls. When she entered the library, she paused. The room was a welcome surprise.