"This is the first. I imagine she chased after her brother."
Elise turned the corner around the castle and Marcus cut his gaze onto her the instant before she disappeared. Lust shot to the surface and tightened his shaft, but he turned back to Daniel. "Why is Shamus letting his children run wild—never mind. I'll speak to him. You look well."
Daniel hesitated, then said, "Chloe is with child."
Marcus smiled in genuine pleasure. "Congratulations, man."
Daniel smiled, then took the reins as Marcus turned toward the castle.
Through the busy courtyard, he answered greetings, but his thoughts remained on the image of Elise as she vanished from sight. She had a forthright, strong quality. Yet—he bent his head to breathe her lingering scent from his clothes—the lavender bouquet in her hair was decidedly feminine. It would be some time before he forgot the feel of her buttocks across his thighs. But then, perhaps he wouldn't have to. Marcus entered the great hall to find his father sitting alone in his chair at the head of the table.
Cameron brightened. "So, ye decided to come home?"
Relaxing warmth rippled through Marcus.
"Tired of wandering the land?" Cameron made a wide sweeping gesture.
"You knew I was on my way, but, aye." He stopped at the chair to his father's right and lowered himself onto the seat. "I am pleased to be home."
"How is my grandson? I see you did not bring him with you."
Marcus sighed. "Nay, Father. You knew I wouldn't."
Cameron snorted. "We would not want to offend the mighty Sassenach."
"Father," Marcus said in a low tone.
Cameron shook his head. "The clan never asked you to concede to the English, you know. I never asked for it. Did you ever wonder if the sacrifice is worth your son?"
"Aye," Marcus murmured. He'd wondered. Politics had ruled the MacGregor clan for centuries and that wasn't easily changed. He paused. "Have I been gone too long, or is something different about the great hall?"
"You have the right of it, lad." Eyes that mirrored his own looked back at him. "More than you can imagine."
Marcus looked about the room. "I can't quite place it. What's happened?"
Cameron took a long, exaggerated draught of ale.
"Cameron."
"Enough of your looks, lad. They do not work with me." He chuckled. "I taught them to you. Remember? It is no mystery, really. Look around. When did you last see the tapestries so bright, the floors so clean?" He motioned toward the wall that ran the length of the room, framed by stairs on either end. "When have you seen the weapons so polished?"
Marcus scanned the nearly two hundred gleaming weapons mounted across the wall. He rose and walked the wall's length, perusing the weapons. Each one glistened, some nearly as bright as newly forged steel. He glanced at the floor. The stone looked as if it had just been laid.
He looked at his father. "What happened?"
"The women came one day—or rather, one month—and swept out the cobwebs, cleaned the floors, the tapestries, weapons."
Marcus rose and crossed the room to the kitchen door where the women worked. The housekeeper sat at the kitchen table. Ancient blue eyes, still shining with the bloom of youth, smiled back at him. Winnie had been present at his birth. Marcus knew she loved him like the son she'd never had. He, in turn, regarded her with as much affection as he had his own mother.
She turned her attention to the raw chicken she carved. "So, you've returned at last."
"Aye, milady."
A corner of her mouth twitched with amusement.
"I am looking forward to the company of some fine lasses tonight," he said. "'Tis a long and lonely trip I've had. Perhaps next time I shall take you with me." He gave her a roguish wink before striding back to his seat in the hall.
Marcus lowered himself into the chair he had occupied earlier. "Must have taken an army just to shine the weapons alone. Not to mention the walls and floors."
"It did. You will see the same throughout the castle. Not a room went untouched."
"Whatever possessed them to do it?"
"It was the hand of a sweet lass," Cameron replied.
"Which one? Not Winnie—"
"Nay. The lass Shannon and Josh found washed ashore on the coast. They brought her when they returned from the south."
"Washed ashore?"
"An American woman. Her ship perished in a fire."
"American?"
Cameron scowled. "Are you deaf? Shannon is the one who discovered her at Solway Firth."
"What in God's name was she doing there?"
Cameron gave his chin a speculative scratch. "Damned if I know. They were headed for London."
"London? Sailing through Solway Firth requires sailing around the north of Ireland. That would add a week or more to the journey."
His father's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "You know the English, probably got lost."
"I thought you said she was American."