MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter by Suzan Tisdale Page B

helpless as you might think, Duncan McEwan,” she huffed at him, refusing to allow him to place her head upon his chest.   Although she did rather enjoy that spot, she was growing quite frustrated.   Not with Duncan or his men, but with her own inability to walk unassisted.  
    Duncan nudged his horse along.   “Yer not?” he said. “Then do ya care to find yer way to Dunshire alone?”   He was not about to abandon her, but she didn’t need to know that at the moment.  
    Her eyes flew open and her mouth clamped shut.   He could see the fire begin to rise in her eyes; deep dark green eyes the color of heather right before it bloomed.   “If you did chose to leave me here, I can assure you I am quite capable of finding my way about.   My father did not raise me to be an addle-headed woman, incapable of finding her way to the end of the road and back.”   She crossed her arms and scowled at him. He returned her scowl with one of his own and she had to admit, his was far more intimidating.
    “Lass, I’ll thank ya no’ to try my patience this day.” He was not used to people questioning him. But he had to admit he did admire her tenacity.
    ‘Twas then that Aishlinn noticed he had a very handsome face. He had full lips that she imagined might be quite warm and soft. Her wandering mind had caught her completely off guard when she thought of how those lips might feel if they were to touch her own.   She was never one to daydream of such things! Well, at least not very often. Disheartened, she shrank from the realization that plain women such as she did not receive kisses from men like him.  
    When she noticed Duncan smiling at her apparent submissiveness, she sat upright. ‘Twas agony to do it, for her ribs and back still ached.   But she did not want him to think she would cower every time he might cast a scowl her way.   “What about tomorrow?” she asked as she forced a sweet smile to her lips.   “Would that be more to your liking m’laird?”
    He nearly burst out laughing when she batted her eyelashes at him. He somehow managed to maintain his composure as well as his scowl. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had abandoned her here she would find her way to Dunshire. “Do no’ try my patience this day, or any other,” he warned her, knowing she had no idea whose lap she sat upon.   Had she been aware of the fact that he would someday be the chief of Clan MacDougall, she would hold an entirely different attitude towards him.
    She did not know why tears welled in her eyes. It could have been from the way he growled his warning or his scowl or from embarrassment.   Her attempts at levity had failed and she felt like a fool.
    His heart lurched when he saw the tears.   He nudged his horse to go faster for he did not want his men hear what he was about to say.   “Lass, I’m sorry.”   He was the leader of hundreds of men. It would not do to have them question his authority or might if he melted every time the lass looked at him.   “People do no’ normally question me when I give an order.   I dunna want my men thinking I’d be swayed by a bonny lass,” he whispered to her.  
    Had her face not been black and blue then he would have been able to see the blush come to her cheeks.   She dared not ask the question that popped into her mind. Do you really think me bonny?   She knew what he meant, that he was a leader of men and he had a certain appearance that he must maintain at all times. Thinking it best to ignore the question burning in her mind, she chose instead to apologize.   “I’m sorry.”  
    Rowan and Manghus caught up to them. Duncan gave her a slight hug. ‘Twas just a little hug, a nudge really and there was no hidden meaning to it.   Still, it sent shockwaves spiraling down her spine. “No worries, lass,” he whispered to her.
    “We must hurry if we wish to reach Dunshire before winter,” he told his men as he tapped the flanks of his horse. For a brief