The Highlander Takes a Bride (Historical Highland Romance)

Saidh’s eyes widened incredulously. “Oh, I—I mean he—is he no’ already betrothed?” Saidh asked weakly. She’d just assumed he would be. Most nobles were betrothed while still in their swaddling, or not long afterward. She had been. Fortunately, the nasty bastard Ferguson she’d been betrothed to had been kind enough to drop dead ere claiming her.

“Nay. His father ne’er troubled to arrange a marriage fer Greer,” Lady MacDonnell said grimly. “Greer’s father was no’ a kind, considerate man. ’Tis a wonder Greer turned out so well with him as an example. Or mayhap ’tis no’ such a wonder after all, perhaps he learned how no’ to behave from him.”

“Perhaps,” Saidh murmured as they reached the door to Greer’s room and Lady MacDonnell opened it and led the way in.

Alpin was not huddled at the foot of the bed, he was tucked into the center top of it like a little lord. He also wore what appeared to be one of Greer’s tunics, the sleeves rolled and rerolled so that they were above his hands. There was a damp cloth on his head, and a maid sat at the bedside, feeding him broth.

“Alpin, me dear,” Lady MacDonnell crooned, crossing quickly to the bed. “I heard ye’d taken ill.”

“Aye.” The boy sat up with a grin. “But I’m better now. ’Twas horrible, the laird made me go in the loch to try to bring down me fever. I thought I’d die from the cold, but it seems to ha’e worked. I feel much better now.”

“The laird said ye were to stay lying down,” the maid said crossly, pushing at his chest.

“But I’m better now,” Alpin protested, trying to stay upright. “Really I am.”

“I fear yer maid and Greer are right, Alpin,” Lady MacDonnell said gently, settling on this side of the bed to smile at the boy. “Ye should really lie down. Ye may feel better just now, but I suspect ’tis just a brief respite because Greer managed to get ye cooled down. I can see he is truly worried, else he would no’ ha’e dressed ye in his own clothes and gi’en ye his bed.”

“Aye.” Alpin glanced down and ran his hands over the soft cloth of the shirt he wore. He was silent for a minute and then glanced up and asked worriedly, “Ye do no’ think he’ll ha’e to take me to the loch again, do ye?”

“Pretty bad, was it?” Lady MacDonnell asked sympathetically.

“Verra bad,” he assured her, and then looking cross, added, “I tried to tell him ye did no’ treat a fever that way, but he would no’ listen.”

“And yet it appears to ha’e brought yer temperature down,” Lady MacDonnell pointed out.

Alpin shrugged discontentedly, and Saidh smiled with amusement at the confusion of expressions that covered the boy’s face in quick succession. She then glanced curiously toward the open window shutters when she heard a commotion from outside.

“It sounds like we ha’e company,” Lady MacDonnell said mildly, and Saidh moved to the window to peer out. She was too slow, however. The bailey was quiet again with little to see but soldiers and servants moving quickly about their business.

“Where is Greer?” Lady MacDonnell asked the maid as Saidh turned back to the room.

“He went to talk to the priest about something or other,” the maid said with a shrug. “He said he’d return directly.”

“Oh, good,” Lady MacDonnell said and then they all glanced to the door with surprise when it suddenly burst open and men began to pile into the room.

For a moment, Saidh thought they were under attack. She even reached for her sword before she recognized the man at the head of the group. Tall, wide shouldered and with long dark hair half covering the scar on his face, he spotted her and rushed forward. It was like being run to ground by a bull. All Saidh had time for was to brace herself before he swept her off her feet and crushed her to his chest, growling, “ ’Tis all right, wee Saidh. We’re here now. We’ll kill the bastard and take ye home.”

“Aulay?” Saidh gasped with what little air he’d left her capable of breathing in. Pushing at his shoulders in a desperate search for more air, she managed to gain herself a little space, and asked with bewilderment, “Who are ye going to kill? And what the de’il are ye doing here?”

“Did ye really no’ think we’d come when we got that message?”

Saidh turned with confusion to eye her brother Dougall at that growl. Second oldest and as big and strong as Aulay, Dougall could have been his twin except for the fact that he was unscarred. “What message?”

“Ne’er mind that,” her third oldest brother, Niels growled, pulling her out of Aulay’s arms and into his own. “Are ye all right, lass? Did he hurt ye horrible?”

“Let the lass breathe, Niels,” her fourth oldest brother, Conran, snapped, tugging her away from him. “Ye’ve each about mauled her like a den o’ those bears grandfather was always carping about battling.”

“Grandfather ne’er saw a bear,” her fifth oldest brother, Geordie, said with disgust. “Father said they were all hunted and killed here long ere grandfather was e’en born.”

“Aye, more’s the pity,” her sixth oldest brother, Rory agreed on a sigh. “I wish they had no’ done that and we still had some wandering about. I’d love to wrestle one.”

“It’d tear ye limb from limb,” Geordie said grimly.

“Would no’!” Rory snapped. “ ’Tis more like I’d—”

Recognizing that a battle was imminent if she didn’t intervene, Saidh put two fingers in her mouth and let loose with a loud, piercing whistle. Silence immediately fell, broken only when her youngest brother, Alick, grinned and said, “I wondered when ye’d shut them up.”

Saidh ignored that and scowled at the seven very large men surrounding her like a circle of trees. “Now, if I’ve yer attention, mayhap someone could explain just what the bloody hell ye’re all doing here?”

“Dear God, she swears like a warrior too,” Alpin said with dismay into the silence that followed. “ ’Tis like Laird MacDonnell, only in Lady Buchanan’s skirts.”