Highlander of Mine by Red L. Jameson

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 breaths.
    Duncan turned back, but it was Helen, already at her front door, opening it for Lady Fleur to step through, who answered.