"Aye," Langley agreed. "They're a cowardly lot. But considering they returned, that makes the situation more strange than lucky." He shrugged again. "Think what you like, but you have a spy." He lifted a brow. "Mayhap it's you they want?"
"They had their chance when they abducted Elise. They knew I would pursue them yet didn't lay in wait for me."
Langley grunted. "The pleasures of the flesh are a powerful distraction."
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"Dinna' lose your temper," the young chief said. "'Tis an observation, nothing more."
"An astute observation," Marcus muttered, then added, "Someone who is reporting the comings and goings."
"What they are reporting, I can't say. But 'tis clear they are hunting. I wager it's big game. 'Course, we will fight alongside you."
Marcus smiled to himself. The clans feuded far less in these modern times, giving a restless Highland heart such as Langley's no outlet for its brand of justice.
"You will stay until tomorrow morning and train?" Langley motioned toward the men who tonight sported with whiskey and lasses, but tomorrow would train hard.
"Aye," Marcus replied, the memory of Kyle's report that all was well at Brahan Seer fresh in his mind.
Langley gave an acknowledging nod, then grabbed the bottle and strode toward several men who vied for the attention of two kitchen maids.
Marcus watched him go. A lot of Langley's father Glen lived in the boy. Glen had refused to give up the old ways and he had fought English injustice the only way he knew how: midnight raids. Marcus smiled, remembering the chief's delight in slaughtering the sheep of an offending lord, then leaving the animals on the lord's doorstep. As a young man, Marcus had ridden with him three days from MacFarlene territory on just such a raid. Unfortunately, Glen went on one too many clandestine rendezvous and was felled by a young baron on the English coast. Marcus understood the battle cry that had driven the old chief. However, in their modern age, it was bad business to consider teaching the Sassenach the error of their ways.
Suddenly, Marcus wearied of politics and war. Even wealth and power hadn't exempted the MacGregors from the English disdain for Highlanders. Still, Ryan MacGregor had done well in choosing a woman of courage. Thank God for a good woman. His loins stirred at the thought of another good woman. Desire swept through him, bringing his body to the now-familiar ache.
Marcus left the revelry. He fell into bed, his body hard with the memory of Elise's touch. In his mind's eye, he saw her wrap slim fingers around his shaft. He reached down, his hand closing over hers. She called to him, her song as sweet as that of any Ceasg. He groaned. Slowly, and with great precision, she pulled him into murky depths where willowy shapes tortured his body and held him hostage long into the night.
Elise sighed when Winnie shoved the book across the kitchen table toward her.
"Nay," Winnie shook her head, "I canna' do it. I have no brain for it."
"Ridiculous," Elise snorted. "Now, calm yourself. We aren't finished."
"Aye, we're finished." Winnie jumped from her chair and began pacing. "We're finished for good." She rubbed her temples as if to drive the frustration from her mind.
"But you were doing so beautifully. Come," Elise entreated, "sit and rest."
The housekeeper paused, eyes narrowed, but flung herself into the chair, nonetheless.
Elise repressed a smile when Winnie picked up the offending book and glanced in the direction of the fire. "Winnie—"
"Dinna' try to talk me into any more reading." She dropped the book on the table as if horns had sprouted from the cover. "'Tis no use. I haven't the brain for it."
Elise raised a brow. "Surely you're not afraid of a little effort?"
The housekeeper shot her a shrewd look. "Isna' that and you know it."
Elise shrugged. "It's not for me to judge. You will be the one to explain to your friends why you cannot read to them as promised."
"You think you're mighty smart, eh, lass?" She snatched up the book.
Elise leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. "The next two lines, please."
"O, woo-would, or I," she began slowly, "had seen the d-ay that tre-tra—" She snorted in frustration.
"Treason," Elise prodded softly.
"—treason thu-s cud—"
"Could," Elise corrected.
"Could sell us, my au-ld grey heed—" Winnie grunted, then repeated with vehemence, "head," then again slowly, "had lien in c-l-ay wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace," she ended with a flourish.
"Excellent. Read half an hour tomorrow and the next day. Then we'll review those pages."
Winnie hesitated.
"Don't worry." Elise smiled. "In no time at all you will have everyone in the village begging you to read for them."
"Well, I don't know about that," Winnie replied, but her nonchalant attitude didn't hide the small smile at the corner of her mouth.
"I do," Elise said with conviction.
"So do I," added a deep voice from the kitchen doorway.
Elise twisted in her chair to stare at Marcus
He lounged against the doorframe. "I believe, milady," he addressed Winnie, but never took his eyes off Elise, "if your teacher has her way, you will never have a moment's peace."