Debbie Mazzuca - Lord of the Isles

“I hope Lady Aileanna wil be joinin’ us fer the evenin’

meal. The lass is verra entertainin’ and has an interestin’

way with words. Stuff it—is that what she told ye to do?”

Before Rory could respond, Cyril hotly interrupted. “Ye 148

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canna’ mean to have that woman join us this eve, Rory. ’T

would be most upsettin’ to poor Moira.”

“I’m sorry fer that, Cyril, but I fear I doona’ have much choice. If I did, several members of my household wil see I pay fer the slight.”

His cousin guffawed. “I never thought I’d see the day the great Rory Mor was brought low by a woman.”

Rory stifled his response when Mrs. Mac entered his study, drying her hands on her apron. It didn’t take much to note her displeasure upon seeing Cyril there.

“Cyril, Aidan, I’l speak with you later.” He dismissed the two men.

They had barely left the room when Mrs. Mac said,

“You’d best get on with it. I have much to see to with al the guests aboot to arrive.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mac. I didna’ ken the invitation had been extended until it was too late. I think Moira—” Rory stopped himself, wel aware Moira MacLean was not one of Mrs. Mac’s favorites. He thought it best not to tel her Moira had assumed by this time the betrothal would be as good as done, and thought to celebrate with her kin this eve. Rory didn’t have the heart to deny her, but stil , he would not commit to making the announcement and had spent most of his time on the field, avoiding Cyril. For some reason his cousin had kept his pestering to a minimum, but every so often Rory had sensed Aidan watching him. They’d been close as boys. Aidan had fos tered with them in his youth, and Rory thought him as much a brother as Iain.

“What is it yer wantin’ to ken?” she asked, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead.

“What was Aileanna doin’ in the hal ?”

“Cleanin’ the banner in my stead.”

“And why were you cleanin’ the bloody thing in the first place?”

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“’Tis what her ladyship demanded. Wantin’ the keep al shiny fer her kin. Showin’ off what she’s marryin’ into.”

“Mrs. Mac, I doona’ think—”

“Och, wel , I ken that.” She looked down her nose at him. Rory kneaded the muscles at the back of his neck, look ing up when Fergus reentered the study. “Did Cook al ow her in his kitchens?”

“He didna’ exactly let her—”

Rory threw up his hands. “You see, ’tis as I thought. I kent Cal um must have been mistaken.”

“Nay, you didna’ give me a chance to finish. The kitchens were like a bloody inferno and the lass got them out of there. Cook was in a bad way. He’s stil no’ himself. I’ve sent him to his bed, but doona’ worry, the lasses have it under con

trol. There’s food enough for an army. You’l no’ be disap

pointed.” The censure in the look Fergus gave him irked Rory, and the one Mrs. Mac added to it didn’t help.

“I ken what the two of you are thinkin’, but yer no’ bein’

fair to Lady MacLean. She’d no’ hurt a fly. She only meant to please me.”

Mrs. Mac grumbled something about stupid men and left the room without so much as a by-your-leave. Rory stood abruptly and his chair scraped across the floor, punctuating the tense silence between Rory and his old friend.

“Just so you ken, the lasses were singin’Aileanna’s praises. She worked alongside them fer most of the day. I gather old lady Cameron was there as wel . I ran across a few of the men she tore a strip off when they dared to say a word against Aileanna. It seems our lady has another protector.” A wide grin split Fergus’s face. Rory tamped down a surge of pride for Aileanna and what she’d done. It was admirable; she was an incredible woman, but it did not give her the right to go on as she had 150

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in the hal , ranting at Moira, and worse, taking him to task in front of his men and guests.

“Where are you goin’, lad?” Fergus questioned him as he left the study.

“To speak to Lady Aileanna,” he shot over his shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time, unwil ing to consider his need to go to her.

His brother descended the staircase as Rory ascended, and Iain grabbed hold of his arm. “You’l no’ upset her, Rory. She’s exhausted.”

Rory shook off his hand and leaned toward him. “I wil do as I see fit, brother. And no’ you, nor anyone else wil tel me otherwise.”

His brother thumped him in the middle of the chest with his finger. “Doona’ do it, Rory, or you wil answer to me.”

Iain didn’t back down as he so often did in their confronta

tions, and it surprised and angered Rory. His brother had al but declared Aileanna his, and Rory, who remained in control at al times, even in the heat of battle, felt the thin rein he held on his temper snap. He saw red. His blood boiled. He grabbed Iain’s hand and shoved him hard against the wal .

The pounding of feet on the stairs penetrated the veil of rage that filmed his eyes. Fergus grabbed hold of the arm he drew back to pummel his brother with, and Aidan wedged himself between them, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“’Tis quite the show yer puttin’ on fer yer guests, cousins, but might I suggest we take this up at another time. And I must insist ye let me partake in the sport. ’Tis been a long time since I’ve gone a round with the two of ye.”

Rory broke free of Fergus and lowered his hand, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. Aidan clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Mayhap ’twould be best if ye saw to the lass after ye’ve had time—” His cousin met Rory’s gaze and he shrugged. “And mayhap no’.”

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Iain tried to shove Aidan aside, but their cousin held firm.

“Rory!” his brother shouted over his cousin’s shoulder. Aidan shook his head, turning to pin Iain in place.

“Doona’ be a fool, lad. Come, leave yer brother be and have some ale with me.”

Rory didn’t wait for Iain’s response. He ignored the ex

cited chatter below and brushed past the two maids who gaped at him as he strode down the corridor toward Aileanna’s room.

Mrs. Mac had informed him last eve she’d set Aileanna up in his mother’s chambers, a room Rory hadn’t entered in years. His parents’ suite in the east wing of the keep held bittersweet memories for him, and he’d wondered at the time if Mrs. Mac had taken some perverse pleasure in placing her there. Rory leaned against the wal outside Aileanna’s room, al owing the coolness of the stone to calm the raw emotion that warred within him. He’d almost convinced himself his cousin was right and he should confront Aileanna at a later time. But the iron handle was already beneath his hand, and he eased the door open before he could stop himself. Stepping across the threshold, his jaw dropped. His breath stuttered in his chest at the sight that greeted him, and he couldn’t move. His gaze riveted on Aileanna in her bath. Her lush curves, ful , milky white breasts and satiny smooth skin glistened. If he was a gentleman he’d leave, but he’d warned her before he wasn’t, not with her. He couldn’t pul his eyes from her dusky rose nipples, her narrow waist, or the gentle curve of her rounded hip, even if he wanted to. He was enchanted, bewitched. She drew her long, slender legs toward her as she washed her hair beneath the water.

He should leave before she saw him. Before he could no longer contain the raging heat unfurling in his bel y and kneel at her side to take those jutting nipples into his 152

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