Her Enemy Highlander. Nicole Locke
his eyes alighted on Mairead. ‘Ha! Who’s this?’
‘She’s Caird’s,’ Malcolm said. ‘He may have shared his drink, but he won’t share her.’
‘Two not enough for you, Malcolm?’ Camron said.
Malcolm grinned. ‘Such a bonny lass, I couldn’t help but ask.’
‘Looks like Caird did share something, though,’ Hamilton said. ‘His clothes.’
Caird cursed.
Mairead gasped and quickly moved behind him. She had fled the room wearing her ripped gown and Caird’s tunic. She wasn’t decent to be around her own family, let alone complete strangers.
‘Bit rough of you, cousin, if her clothes are torn,’ Camron said, all joviality gone from his voice.
‘Are you hurt, lass?’ Hamilton asked, his hand reaching to his hip where a knife was kept.
She couldn’t tell him. If she did, there’d be a fight and Malcolm still had her dagger! But what could she say to them?
‘Nae, I’m—’
‘Too intent on my brother to remember her surroundings,’ Malcolm interjected. ‘I was just coming down the stairs to stop them when you arrived.’
Camron looked at Caird’s hand wrapped around her arm. ‘His grip is too tight.’
Caird did not release her. ‘She slipped,’ he said as if that would satisfy his cousins.
Could the man not even come up with a little lie to get them out of trouble?
‘On the stairs,’ she added, and peered around Caird to give his cousins a smile. ‘Silly of me. So kind of you to block our way and stop me from showing myself to all of Scotland.’
Camron released his eyes from Caird’s. ‘Our pleasure, lass, if that’s the truth of it all.’
Why would the truth be important now? ‘Other than shamed to supper, I’m unharmed.’ She patted Caird on his bare shoulder and felt him stiffen. What did she care if he didn’t want her touching him? She was getting them out of trouble. Lowering her voice, she added, ‘Cannot think of what it was that distracted me is all.’
Hamilton gave a short chuckle, but Camron didn’t look convinced.
‘And you forgot her state of undress?’ Camron said to Caird.
‘Aye,’ Caird replied.
Camron frowned even more. Hamilton, sensing his brother’s displeasure, lost his laugh.
Caird wasn’t helping their cause at all and she wanted to kick him. Certainly his glowering expression wouldn’t convince them that he enjoyed her presence.
She draped herself more heavily against Caird. If possible she felt him stiffen even further. ‘Must have been that wee bit of ale being poured,’ she added.
‘Hah! I knew it!’ Hamilton laughed and hit Camron in the chest with the back of his hand. ‘Caird never could hold his drink.’
Camron’s expression eased and his grin returned. ‘But Colquhouns can hold their women.’
‘Ah, she is a bonny lass, cousin,’ Hamilton said. ‘Where’d you find her?’
‘In my room,’ Caird replied.
Hamilton’s eyebrows rose. ‘Nae wonder you wanted to stay here and not hurry to the keep. Of course, if you had hurried, you’d have had—’
Malcolm moved forward, ‘Well, cousins, we should set off for your home. When do the games begin?’
‘Tomorrow. It’s why we were coming to fetch you,’ Camron replied. ‘We’ll be late for the start and John owes me some pride.’
‘Help me saddle our horses while my brother finds a gown and pays our bills,’ Malcolm said.
‘He’ll be paying mine as well,’ Camron said.
‘Mine, too,’ Hamilton added. ‘And I drank a wee bit more after you left, cousin.’
‘Nothing more than a flagon or two,’ Camron added.
‘Or three or four.’
‘Ah, to have such rich, generous cousins,’ Camron said.
‘Aye, does a belly and a coffer good.’
Caird huffed, reached into his pouch still carrying the gem and pulled out several coins. Malcolm bounded up the stairs to take them. ‘You get a gown,’ Caird said. ‘We’ll wait.’
Malcolm dropped the money into his own pouch, making the coins chime and clank.
Hamilton sighed dramatically. ‘That is too much money by far.’
Malcolm took the steps down to slap Hamilton on the shoulder. ‘There’ll be time to remedy that at the games.’
Caird waited until the three other men were out of sight before he pulled her into the room and closed the door.
Rubbing her arm, she stumbled to the window.
Caird stood by the door and didn’t move. She didn’t know how long Malcolm would be, but she wasn’t wasting a moment.
She turned to him. ‘Getting me a gown doesn’t make us even.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘Despite what’s in that big fat head of yours, the dagger is mine and I will take it back.’
He ignored her. No. It was more than that, he just stared straight through her. She knew he was alive by the slight rise of his chest and his occasional blink, and the fact that he opened the door when they heard the two quick knocks.
Malcolm didn’t step in, but pushed a yellow gown and the dagger through the slight opening. Caird threw the gown at her feet.
It was a bright, deeply coloured yellow. With her dark hair she could never tame, she’d look like an overused broom.
She picked it up. The length was good, but it’d be too tight around the bodice. The person who wore this didn’t like food as well as she. There was no hope for it.
‘Will you turn around?’
Caird didn’t acknowledge her question. Instead he secured the gem inside the dagger and placed them both in his pouch.
Watching avidly, Mairead couldn’t believe how close and yet how far she was from the means to end the nightmare she was in.
When he was done, she waited several heartbeats for Caird to turn around; instead, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
Glowering, she turned her back to change. In her haste, the torn gown ripped further. She’d have to repair it when she returned home. Shoving it to her feet, she pulled the new one over her. It caught on her breasts and hips and was altogether too tight to quickly tug over her and tie the cords around her. No matter, though her chemise was threadbare, it provided enough cover until she could get the fabric over her. She had too much pride to beg a Colquhoun for her privacy.
Still, his presence, and his silence, made her feel like elbowing him in the stomach.
Losing her temper wasn’t anything new to her. Wanting to harm another person was. But nothing had been normal since she’d met Caird. Her reaction to him was... No, she didn’t want to think of her reaction to him. It wasn’t Caird making her crazy with desperation and anger and...everything else, it was the dagger.
‘I know you believe you’re right,’ she said, tugging at the yellow fabric in the vain hope that it would cover more. The colour was beautiful and probably had cost its original owner some coin. ‘But you must see reason on this.’ In their haste, she was sure Caird’s brother had paid too dear for it. If he thought to bribe her with the cost, he was mistaken. Turning to face him, she continued,