Highlander Untamed by Monica Mccarty

penetrating gaze.
    Try compliments, she reminded herself. “Your sword skills are quite remarkable. I enjoyed watching you practice with your men.”
    He shrugged.
    “I couldn’t believe it when you switched hands. I’ve never seen anything like it. It must have taken you years of practice to master using both hands.”
    “Yes.”
    So much for compliments. This was like talking to a stone wall. “I have some experience with a blade myself,” she offered casually, “though I’m better with a bow.” Trying to get the attention of three brothers did have some benefits.
    He stared at her, his shock patent. “You are serious?”
    She met his gaze with a proud tilt of her chin. “Perfectly.”
    He gave her a quick glance up and down. “You look like you could barely lift a sword.”
    “I’m stronger than I look,” she said, standing a little straighter.
    Now he looked amused. “And what use could a wee lass have for swordplay?”
    “You’d be surprised.”
    He shook his head, looking as though he wanted to laugh. Isabel fought to control her temper, but she was used to such masculine condescension from her brothers. It had only made her work harder.
    “And your father approved of this unusual pastime?”
    “You’re making a nuisance of yourself, lass. You’re brothers need to practice.”
    Isabel hated that word, nuisance. She heard it enough. “But I just want—”
    “Your mother was a real lady. You must be as well.”
    But Isabel was ten years old and she didn’t want to be a lady. She wanted to play with her brothers.
    “Not at first,” she admitted. Never. “But I believe he saw the wisdom in a woman learning how to defend herself.” She hoped.
    “Well, you’ve no need of that while you are here,” he said. “I will protect you. And my warriors do not have the time to waste on child’s play.”
    Isabel bit back her pert reply, but his attitude set her teeth on edge. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask whether I could arrange some short hunting excursions—”
    He crossed his arms. She tried not to stare, but the display of muscles made her feel slightly warm and fuzzy all over. “No.”
    His terse denial surprised her. Her eyes shot to his face. “Why not? I believe hunting is a suitable activity for a ‘wee lass.’” And it would do much to relieve her boredom.
    “It’s much too dangerous.”
    “I would have an escort—”
    “I said no.”
    He was being unreasonable. But now was not the time to argue, so she fumed silently.
    “Was there a reason you wanted to speak with me?” he asked impatiently, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere than standing here with her.
    Isabel thought quickly. “Yes, I would like to make a few minor changes to our chamber to make the room more comfortable, and I thought it best that I seek your permission before I did so. Even though,” she couldn’t resist adding, “you spend so little time there.” An unmistakable trace of reproach colored her voice as she glanced at his stern face from under her long eyelashes—implicitly offering him a chance to explain their sleeping arrangements. But he didn’t take the bait. “I assume that you want me to take over the duties of chatelaine. If you could direct me to the appropriate person, as I do not know who is currently administering the castle—”
    “You need not worry about that.” He cut her off. “My sister Margaret has handled those duties for the last two years.” He looked at her grimly. “Since her return to Dunvegan.”
    Isabel blanched, instantly realizing her error. She should have guessed that his sister would be acting as mistress, and now her innocent reminder of her family connection to his sister’s disgrace had ignited his anger. But it was easy to forget Margaret’s presence at the castle, as she had not even been introduced to her. It was an omission that she would have to remedy.
    “Of course your sister should remain chatelaine. I’m sorry, as I have yet to meet