Beloved Imposter by PATRICIA POTTER Page B

needs here.
    No. Do not think about it.
    And she would be the last person to make any change. She could not cook or run a household. She could engage in swordplay. She doubted anyone at this table would appreciate that particular talent. It most likely would not go with the image of a fair and modest lady such as his kinsmen apparently believed they had captured.
    She tried to eat again, but it was more than a little difficult with so many eyes on her. They all weighed, judged, speculated. Apparently they still had not given up on their fervent wish that their lord marry again.
    She could not help but wonder about his wives.
    “My lady?”
    She started. She had been too engrossed in her own thoughts. She looked up at Lachlan.
    “Perhaps you would like to name the foal. Hector said you seemed taken with the mare.”
    She looked at Lord Rory. She was only a guest here. Or to be more exact, a captive of sorts.
    “I am sure you can think of something better than I,” he said with that rare smile. “Lachlan is afraid I will call it ‘horse.’”
    “My brother has a practical nature,” Lachlan said.
    “What is the name of your ship?”
    Silence. Lachlan raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother.
    Rory shrugged. “ The Lady .”
    “I can see why Lachlan is concerned,” Felicia said, even as she wondered why it did not carry the name of his first love. Was it simply because he could not bear being reminded of her? Did people really love that much?
    She had really not believed that they did, though she thought Janet and her cousin a good match. They obviously cared about one another.
    Had Lord Rory Maclean had a wild passion?
    And had her cheeks just flamed at the forbidden thought? It was none of her concern whether or not a Maclean was passionate. Particularly when it was quite evident that his only wish was for her departure.
    Still, she wanted to know more about his Maggie.
    Even surrounded by clansmen, he seemed very much a man alone. Though he had an easy manner with his clansmen, there was not the jocular familiarity that Jamie had with the Campbells. She wondered if it were a cloak of grief that separated him from others, though he did not wear it openly.
    She used to think that the legend regarding the Macleans was cruel and directed toward the wrong party—the wife. But she had been wrong. It must be terrible to be left behind.
    Rory Maclean stood then, as did the others.
    Lachlan grinned at her. “Do you want to see the foal?”
    “Oh yes. But I will be leaving. It is not fair for me to name her.”
    “You can tell this is a masculine household,” Lachlan said. “There is not a man here who can name a filly. You would be doing us a kindness.”
    She turned to Rory, but he merely shrugged. “Do as you wish.”
    His indifference stung. But Lachlan touched her arm lightly, and she curtsied her farewell to Rory. She accompanied Lachlan to the stable and to the back of the barn. She heard a soft whinny as they approached and watched the mare nuzzle her baby.
    “Oh,” Felicia exclaimed as she saw the foal wobble on thin legs, seeking her meal. She was as black as her mother with a head that looked too large, but Felicia knew she would quickly grow into it.
    Her heart skipped a beat and tenderness filled her soul. She never tired of seeing a newborn, particularly foals. They always seemed so ready to take their place in the world.
    “She’s greedy,” she said.
    “Aye, she will be strong and swift.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “Her bloodlines, my lady. They are very fine. My father prided himself on his horses.”
    “And your brother?”
    “He is a fine horseman. But now he has no special mount. Instead, he rides them all. He hesitates to keep one horse for his own use.”
    “Because he might lose it?”
    He looked at her with surprise, and a new warmth. “He does not say as much but aye, I think that is the reason.”
    The foal stumbled, then regained her footing as her mother nuzzled