My Highland Love: Highland Lords Series (5 page)

"Nay, Wilma," Winnie admonished. "Leave the
plate of mutton. You and Mary fetch wine from the cellar. The men
will sleep better with a little help."

The girls hurried off. Cold chicken, bread,
and peas were quickly placed on platters. Elise took the platter
Winnie placed in her hands and headed for the great hall.

The camaraderie which generally characterized
gatherings in the eating hall was absent. When Elise set the peas
on the table, her heart stirred at sight of the men's exhausted
faces. She cast a furtive glance at Marcus. The hard set of his
mouth and hollow eyes startled her. What had happened to the
carefree devil who held her in his arms only a few days ago? She
returned to the kitchen.

"Take those." Winnie pointed to the bottles
of wine sitting on the table, then turned back to the bread she had
unwrapped from its cloth cover.

Elise hesitated. Four uneventful months at
Brahan Seer had dulled her senses. Why hadn't she realized
Cameron's son would be with his men tonight? A tremor rocked her
belly. Neither had she considered that he could have read the
wanted notice for Elisabeth Kingston while in London. He was far
more sophisticated than Michael and, surely, far less trusting.
Given time, would Marcus MacGregor recognize Elise as the nickname
for Elisabeth?

"Elise."

She snapped from her thoughts and saw Winnie
staring expectantly at her. Elise grabbed the bottles of wine on
the table and reentered the hall. Marcus's plate was untouched. She
set the wine on the table. His gaze met and held hers for an
instant before he shoved back his chair and rose.

She remained rooted to the spot as he strode
to the stairwell. At the stairs, he paused and looked back at her,
eyes dark with need. He turned suddenly and headed up the stairs.
Her breath caught at sight of his shirt, taut across his shoulders,
and her gaze dropped to his calves in the instant before he
disappeared from view. Elise broke the stare and realized her pulse
had jumped to a gallop. Good Lord, was the greater danger Marcus
connecting her to the Elisabeth Kingston wanted for murder, or her
reaction to him? Until now, she hadn't worried how long Price
persisted in searching for her. She had been sure she could wait
him out. Now, could she afford to wait—could she afford to remain
even another night near Marcus MacGregor?

* * * *

Marcus awoke, his body hard with arousal. He
shifted his thoughts from Elise to the Campbells, but the memory of
her face the night before persisted. Her eyes changed with her
mood. Would those eyes darken with passion when she lay beneath
him? He stirred restlessly. How might she cry out as he brought her
to her pleasure? He would find out—and soon.

Ten minutes later, Marcus entered the kitchen
to find the women busy with preparations for the meals. "Good
morning, Winnie." He seated himself across the table from her.

She reached for a sprig of herbs from one of
the piles before her and began grinding it in a mortar bowl.
"Morning."

He glanced at the rear door.

"No sense watching the door. She isna'
here."

He leaned forward. "You are a witch, Winnie,
my love. Where is she?"

"Michael's. She set out early this
morning."

"Why?"

"He broke his leg. She makes sure he is
tended to."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed." Winnie reached for another sprig of
herbs.

Marcus rose and kissed her cheek. "Making
trouble while I've been gone, I wager?"

She looked up. "No more than usual."

"So I thought," he said, and left the
kitchen.

Marcus looked from his father to the warrior
entering the great hall. The man strode past the men gathered for
the evening meal and stopped at the table opposite him.

"Lady Ross to see you, laird," he said.

"And you back but a day from fighting with
Campbells," Cameron said.

Marcus sighed. "I suppose she knows I'm
here."

The guard looked uncomfortable.

"You can escape out the back," his father
suggested, but the door opened again and Lady Margaret Ross entered
dressed in a tightly fitting riding habit that said she'd been in
the saddle the better part of the day. "I told ye not to dally with
noblewomen," Cameron added under his breath, and stood as she
approached. "Margaret, lass, how are you?" He clasped her hands in
his.

"Your Grace." She dipped into a deep
curtsy.

He shot Marcus a dry look while her head was
bowed. "Enough, lassie." He pulled the petite woman to her feet.
"We are not in Edinburgh." He released her hands. "You will forgive
me, if I dinna' stay. I have a mare that bears attending." He
winked. "You won't miss me, I feel sure."

"It is always good to see you, Your
Grace."

"It is good to see you, as well."

"You haven't had your supper, Cameron,"
Marcus remarked.

"Aye, well, I cannot leave Coreen alone too
long. She is due to foal any time."

"Craig can watch after her."

Cameron snorted. "The boy doesna' know a
gelding from a stallion."

"The next time you geld a stallion, have him
watch. He'll remember after that."

His father cast a sheepish look at Margaret.
"Well, I do not think—"

"Never mind," Marcus cut in. "As you say, you
have a mare to attend to."

"I do," he agreed, and made a hasty exit.

Lady Ross looked to Marcus. "Lord Ashlund."
She started to curtsy again.

"None of that, Margaret," he said.

She paused and studied him from beneath her
lashes then, with an incline of her head, straightened. She gave
him an inquiring look and he stood.

"Gille," he addressed the man seated to his
right, "give your seat up to the lady."

The man stood and bowed.

Lady Ross angled her head in thanks, then
sat. "You are looking well," she said. "Did you enjoy London?"

Once again, the postern door opened and
Marcus paused in sitting to look see who entered. Recognizing the
newcomer as another of his men, he seated himself.

"Lord Ashlund," came Margaret's insistent
voice.

"My visit went well." He forced his attention
to her.

"I'm sorry I could not accompany you as you
wanted."

"It was you who requested an escort,
Margaret, not I who requested your presence."

"A shame my plans changed," she went on.
"Unfortunately, I now must go to London." She smiled. "I would be
glad of your company."

He gave a mirthless laugh. "London twice a
year is quite enough. I have no wish to make it three."

She laid a hand on his arm. "Not long ago you
would have done this for me."

"Made a special trip to London? You're
confusing me with another of your admirers."

The women began serving the food and he
glanced at the clock over the mantle. The evening grew late. "Did
you come alone?" he demanded.

"I did."

Marcus frowned. "Very foolish."

The postern door creaked open again. Daniel
stepped in. He looked in Marcus's direction. Amusement flicked
across his face before he turned and exited.

"Are you expecting someone?" Margaret
asked.

A maid placed a platter of mutton on his side
of the table and he reached for it. "I will have one of my men
escort you home." He dished a helping of meat onto his plate.

"It is so late, I thought perhaps…"

Marcus paused and looked at her. "You knew
you would arrive after dark. Why do it?"

She stiffened. "Sheathe your conceit, Marcus.
You were not the only person I visited today." She pursed her lips.
"If my staying is too much of an inconvenience…"

He glanced again at the clock. Elise wouldn't
journey home in the dark. He sat the platter of meat on the table.
If she did, he would clip her lovely wings.

When Elise didn't return the following
afternoon, Marcus went in search of his father and found him in the
stables keeping watch on Coreen.

"It isn't unusual for her to be gone a day or
two when she goes to Michael's," Cameron said. "She likes to make
sure he is well-cared-for."

"What the blazes does that mean?" Marcus
demanded.

His father stopped mid-stroke as he ran his
hand across the mare's distended belly. "Hell, lad, the man is my
age. What would he want with a lass Elise's age?"

"Age has not stopped you of late."

Cameron flushed. "A man cannot resist the
charms of a woman forever, you know."

"That's exactly what I am afraid of," Marcus
muttered.

"Although," Cameron said, his tone
thoughtful, "I didna' see young Erin return with you. Did he go
directly to Michael's? He has not seen his father in months."

"Yes, by God. How long did you say she
usually stays with Michael?"

The mare nickered and Cameron began stroking
her again. "She does, on occasion, stay a couple days, but,
certainly, never longer."

"And it has been two days."

"It has," Cameron said with such emphasis
that Marcus looked at him.

"I'll ride out and make sure she is
safe."

"A fine idea. We would not want anything to
happen, would we?"

Marcus gave his father a recriminating look,
then snapped out an order for his stallion to be saddled.

Marcus stopped in front of Michael's cottage,
dismounted, and tossed the reins over the post to the right of the
porch. He entered the cottage without knocking.

"Back for more, lass?" came Michael's voice
from behind the curtain that enclosed the corner bed.

"More of what?" Marcus demanded.

Michael drew back the curtain with a
flourish. He met Marcus's gaze and grinned. "Marcus, this is a
surprise."

"I imagine so," he said as Michael rose and
hobbled toward him.

The old man halted. "Is something wrong?"

"Nay. Where is Elise? She's been gone some
time and Cameron is concerned."

"Concerned?" Michael looked puzzled. "I
cannot imagine why—" He stopped, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. "Are
you sure 'tis not you who is worried?"

Marcus relaxed. "Where is she?"

"Marcus, you've come all this way, and I
haven't seen you in an age. Surely, you can spare a civil word? Sit
down." He motioned toward the table sitting before the hearth.
"Have a drink. Dinna' fash over Elise. She'll return soon."

"Return?" Marcus started. "Where is she?"

Michael sighed and gave him a disgusted look.
"Out in the barn with Erin."

Marcus left the cottage, the words with Erin
ringing in his head as he strode across the meadow to the barn.

"I want to thank you for all you've done for
my father." Erin's voice filtered from the barn as Marcus
neared.

"It's nothing," Elise replied.

Marcus paused at the open door. The sound of
milk squirting into a pail was followed by a low moo from the
heifer.

"Nay," Erin went on, "you lifted his spirits.
It's difficult, him out here alone."

"Why hasn't he moved into the village?"

"This land has been worked by our family for
generations. He refuses to give it up."

"I can understand—" She cried out in unison
with the clang of a hoof against metal.

Marcus shot forward but halted inside the
door at seeing Elise on her backside in a puddle of spilt milk, the
pail on its side beside her. Erin leaned with his arms over the
cow's back, staring down at her.

"Oh, dear." She looked up at Erin. "I haven't
quite got the hang of it."

The young warrior came around the cow and
squatted beside Elise. "Are you all right?" His voice betrayed the
mirth he clearly felt.

"Fine," she replied wryly and extended a
hand. "If you please?"

He stood, pulling her to her feet. She
twisted in an effort to examine the back of her skirt.

"You have milk in your hair. How did you
manage that?"

Elise gave him a dry look and shook out her
skirt. "Perhaps I need a dip in the loch."

"Rather cold."

"True, but it would be better than this milk.
It's getting late and I doubt I'll return to Brahan Seer
tonight."

"Aye," Marcus said. "You will return to
Brahan Seer tonight."

Her head snapped in his direction as Erin
whirled. "Marcus, what is amiss?"

Marcus looked at Elise. "I am here to take
Elise home."

"Take her home?" Erin echoed.

"Aye. It's late, and Cameron was growing
concerned." Marcus wondered at his rapidly increasing ability to
lie with such ease.

"Of course." Erin faced Elise and bowed.
"Thank you for coming. I know my father was pleased to see
you."

He stepped back, and Elise turned a
calculating eye on Marcus. His body tensed under her scrutiny.

"I am not going anywhere."

"Nay?" he asked, quelling the tightening of
his groin at the cool note of confidence.

"My visit here is not finished."

"Nay?" he repeated.

She glanced at the pail laying near her feet
and Marcus prepared for a quick retreat.

"No," she answered, and he relaxed upon
seeing her turn her attention, albeit reluctantly, from the pail.
"It's late and I have no horse," she said. "The trip home on foot
after dark is dangerous."

"Aye," Marcus agreed.

Her brow knit in confusion, then her eyes
widened. "I will not make another trip with you on your mount."

The statement was made with such force that
Marcus nearly laughed.

"I will lend you a mare," Erin offered.

Marcus regarded her and lifted a brow in
question.

"I promised Michael dinner."

"Elise," Erin put in, "my father will
understand."

She kept her gaze on Marcus. "You may leave.
I will find my way home."

His heart beat wildly at the open defiance
expressed with such aplomb. He stepped forward and Erin moved to
intervene.