trying to gauge
her face, looking for any sign that what she’d asked might mean
more than she’d indicated. There were spies everywhere. And if
there weren’t spies, Cromwell’s new policies made it so neighbors
testified against neighbor, kin against kin. It was madness and had
to be stopped. His own father had been executed from the bloody
revolution. The thought pained him, but he pushed it aside as he
always did. In the years after Cromwell had stormed through
Scotland, anarchy, not an English parliament, ruled.
However, his brother was trying to calm the
chaos Cromwell had created. Rory was proud of his brother for
taking the lairdship after their father’s execution. Even prouder
when he’d whispered to him the secret plans to be on the ready for
Cromwell again. The new English sovereign was getting old, and this
parliamentary rule would have to shift eventually. Then the MacKays
would be ready. No plans were in action, other than to be armed and
prepared. With so many Highlander men dead or lost from the war,
they’d had to recruit children—lads of four and ten and older—to
become soldiers, but soon enough the lads would grow into fierce
men. And Rory would be at the helm, leading them back to glory.
Rory patted Lady Fleur’s hand, wrapped around
his arm. “Nothing to worry yer bonny head about.”
She frowned and looked away.
Shite, that had been the wrong thing to say.
Well, of course it had been. He could tell from her roaming dark
eyes, so insightful and intense, that she was highly intelligent.
Placating her by calling her pretty wouldn’t do. He sighed.
“Aye,” he whispered, which made her head
swivel back his direction. “’Tis threatening to build an army in
these times, but being unprepared might kill us all, Lady
Fleur.”
She nodded with a sympathetic glance.
“Besides, we need some sort of law now.
Cromwell’s not here to help with the bedlam that’s ensued since his
reign.”
“The mosstroopers? They help with the bedlam?
What are they, by the way?”
“They used to serve a good purpose, defenders
of the land, but since Cromwell they’ve turned into thieves. And,
aye, they ensure pandemonium persists.”
“And building an army would stop them?”
“Should.” He nodded.
She blinked and looked ahead. Thinking, Rory
was sure. Still, she seemed to cuddle a tad closer, and, again, it
made him feel as if he were the strongest man alive. Lord, he liked
her. Loved her thoughtful questions. And those eyes. God, they were
so dark, so deep with contemplations he wished she’d share with
him.
What might have begun as a juvenile
competition between himself and Duncan, whether the man knew it or
not, had turned into something far more serious in one day’s time.
Lady Fleur was unlike any other woman he’d met, and he wondered
about a future with her. Some of the best men he’d read about in
history had a strong woman beside them, and that woman had been
their best advocate and council.
He knew he was jumping to conclusions with
Lady Fleur, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so...different.
Refreshing. Lovely. Tantalizing.
Mrs. Cameron and Duncan walked through her
front garden gate, and Duncan held it open for Lady Fleur and him
while Mrs. Cameron walked ahead toward her porch and front door.
Duncan stared at the lady as they walked past. Jealousy tore
through Rory’s brain and stomach, making him feel hollow.
“Good night, Ma,” Duncan said as he shut the
garden’s gate.
In the middle of the stone garden path, Rory
turned to Duncan with Fleur still on his arm.
Then Duncan bowed his head slightly. “Good
night, Captain MacKay, Lady Fleur.”
“You’re leaving for the night?” Lady Fleur
asked. Her voice a bit too panicked for Rory’s heart.
Duncan nodded. “Aye.” Then, the too tall man
turned to head around the house.
“But—but I thought you slept here,” the lady
called out, which grated on all of Rory’s nerves, making him take
small
her face, looking for any sign that what she’d asked might mean
more than she’d indicated. There were spies everywhere. And if
there weren’t spies, Cromwell’s new policies made it so neighbors
testified against neighbor, kin against kin. It was madness and had
to be stopped. His own father had been executed from the bloody
revolution. The thought pained him, but he pushed it aside as he
always did. In the years after Cromwell had stormed through
Scotland, anarchy, not an English parliament, ruled.
However, his brother was trying to calm the
chaos Cromwell had created. Rory was proud of his brother for
taking the lairdship after their father’s execution. Even prouder
when he’d whispered to him the secret plans to be on the ready for
Cromwell again. The new English sovereign was getting old, and this
parliamentary rule would have to shift eventually. Then the MacKays
would be ready. No plans were in action, other than to be armed and
prepared. With so many Highlander men dead or lost from the war,
they’d had to recruit children—lads of four and ten and older—to
become soldiers, but soon enough the lads would grow into fierce
men. And Rory would be at the helm, leading them back to glory.
Rory patted Lady Fleur’s hand, wrapped around
his arm. “Nothing to worry yer bonny head about.”
She frowned and looked away.
Shite, that had been the wrong thing to say.
Well, of course it had been. He could tell from her roaming dark
eyes, so insightful and intense, that she was highly intelligent.
Placating her by calling her pretty wouldn’t do. He sighed.
“Aye,” he whispered, which made her head
swivel back his direction. “’Tis threatening to build an army in
these times, but being unprepared might kill us all, Lady
Fleur.”
She nodded with a sympathetic glance.
“Besides, we need some sort of law now.
Cromwell’s not here to help with the bedlam that’s ensued since his
reign.”
“The mosstroopers? They help with the bedlam?
What are they, by the way?”
“They used to serve a good purpose, defenders
of the land, but since Cromwell they’ve turned into thieves. And,
aye, they ensure pandemonium persists.”
“And building an army would stop them?”
“Should.” He nodded.
She blinked and looked ahead. Thinking, Rory
was sure. Still, she seemed to cuddle a tad closer, and, again, it
made him feel as if he were the strongest man alive. Lord, he liked
her. Loved her thoughtful questions. And those eyes. God, they were
so dark, so deep with contemplations he wished she’d share with
him.
What might have begun as a juvenile
competition between himself and Duncan, whether the man knew it or
not, had turned into something far more serious in one day’s time.
Lady Fleur was unlike any other woman he’d met, and he wondered
about a future with her. Some of the best men he’d read about in
history had a strong woman beside them, and that woman had been
their best advocate and council.
He knew he was jumping to conclusions with
Lady Fleur, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so...different.
Refreshing. Lovely. Tantalizing.
Mrs. Cameron and Duncan walked through her
front garden gate, and Duncan held it open for Lady Fleur and him
while Mrs. Cameron walked ahead toward her porch and front door.
Duncan stared at the lady as they walked past. Jealousy tore
through Rory’s brain and stomach, making him feel hollow.
“Good night, Ma,” Duncan said as he shut the
garden’s gate.
In the middle of the stone garden path, Rory
turned to Duncan with Fleur still on his arm.
Then Duncan bowed his head slightly. “Good
night, Captain MacKay, Lady Fleur.”
“You’re leaving for the night?” Lady Fleur
asked. Her voice a bit too panicked for Rory’s heart.
Duncan nodded. “Aye.” Then, the too tall man
turned to head around the house.
“But—but I thought you slept here,” the lady
called out, which grated on all of Rory’s nerves, making him take
small
Similar Books
