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Authors: Victoria Roberts

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BOOK: Kilts and Daggers
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A large table surrounded by six chairs sat in the center of the library. Two chairs were placed in front of a stone fireplace, and one wall was lined with several wooden shelves. When she spotted a tapestry of another bloody battle scene hung on the wall and encircled by shields and swords, she shuddered. Her brother-in-law's decorating habits left a lot to be desired. In spite of that, she turned her attention back to his vast array of books. Perhaps she had more in common with Laird Sutherland than she'd initially thought because she too would rather bury her nose in a book than share Fagan's company.

“Stop it, Grace.”

“Stop what? What are you doing in here?” Elizabeth stood up from a chair in front of the fireplace and replaced a book on the shelf.

“I didn't see you there. Ravenna wants to take us somewhere. Do you know where Kat is?”

“I'm not sure, but I think I know where to find her. I've seen her following that wolf around.” Elizabeth hesitated, looking deep in thought. “Why do they call the animal…Angus?”

“I don't know. I suppose they have to call him something.”

“But Angus? Why not call him Shadow or something to the like? The wolf is as black as the night.” They walked out into the hall, and Elizabeth closed the door behind her. When she turned around, she was still waiting for Grace's response.

“You're asking me? I never understand why men do what they do, let alone these men.” She lifted a brow. “Why are we talking about the wolf?”

Elizabeth averted her eyes. “I don't know. I suppose I'm occupying my thoughts.” She took a step away, and Grace grabbed her sister's arm.

“Please tell me those thoughts are not about Laird Munro.” When Elizabeth hesitated, Grace briefly closed her eyes and sighed. “You must cease thinking about the man.” Elizabeth was about to open her mouth when Grace added, “You want someone who will value you for you. You are a beautiful, caring person, and the man doesn't even know you exist. You're a lady, born in England. He's a laird, born in Scotland—the Highlands of Scotland, I might add. You share no common ground. I beg you to cease this sudden fancy you have for him, please. You're only going to be hurt, and I don't want to see that happen.”

Elizabeth nodded, and they walked in silence to the great hall. Grace knew her sister was cross with her, but she refused to let Elizabeth believe a Highland laird was the man in her future. If her sister couldn't think clearly, Grace was determined to be the voice of reason.

They walked out into the bailey, where the stone walls of the castle cast more than half the courtyard in shade. For the first time since she'd been in the Highlands, Grace realized how massive her sister's new home was.

“Grace, are you coming with us?” asked Kat.

“Yes, Elizabeth and I were just searching for you.”

“I was in the stable with Ruairi.”

Ravenna approached with an apologetic look on her face. “I hope you don't mind, but Ruairi wanted to come along.”

“Not at all. You two are recently wed. I only hope that we're not intruding.”

“Of course ye arenae.” Ruairi came up behind Grace and moved to her side. “Ravenna's clan…er, family is now mine too. I want all of ye to feel at home here.”

“Thank you, Ruairi. That was very kind. So where are we going?”

Ruairi gave Ravenna a sly grin. “I'm nae ruining the surprise, but Ravenna told me how much ye like the garden view so I'm taking ye somewhere even better.”

“Better than the garden? Oh, you definitely have my interest now. Let's go then.”

Torquil ran through the bailey, and everyone looked surprised when the boy stopped in front of Kat. “Do ye mind if I come along?”

“You want to come with us?” Kat's eyes lit up. “Ravenna?”

“Of course he can come with us.”

The stable master brought out the saddled horses, all of them fine-looking mounts. Ruairi and Ravenna led the way, followed by Kat, Torquil, and Grace. After they passed under the portcullis, Grace shifted her rump in the saddle and looked back at Ravenna's home. She couldn't help but sigh at the impressive sight.

What a formidable castle, with its round turrets and square watchtower. To her left were the steep cliffs and to her right was the lush forest. Ruairi's vast home was a bit staggering since Grace was more accustomed to her smaller manor house, but there was something definitely warm and enchanting here that her sister favored. Grace could almost see why—almost.

She turned back around, smiling to see Torquil in deep conversation with Kat. The boy wasn't as skittish as he had been before, even riding by her sister's side instead of fleeing the other way. Perhaps Kat wouldn't be so determined to stalk the laird's son if the boy paid her some attention.

The sound of thundering hoofbeats came from behind, hard and fast. When Grace looked over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed, and her lips puckered with annoyance. “Bloody hell.”

“My apologies that I'm late. Ye didnae miss me too much, did ye, Grace?” Fagan had the nerve to smile.

Four

Fagan stood on the beach and watched the ocean waves lap onto the sandy shore. The warm breeze whipped his hair against his cheek, and the sun bathed his face. He smiled as Torquil chased Kat around in the sand, their gentle laughter tinkling through the air. Ruairi and Ravenna sat on a blanket while Elizabeth ambled along the edge of the water. Grace had taken off her boots, lifted her skirts in her hands, and waded in the sea up to her knees.

When she turned and gazed over her shoulder, Fagan cleared his throat. For a brief moment, he had almost forgotten that the lass was Ravenna's sister. Wisps of hair framed Grace's face and brownish-gold ringlets curled on her forehead. She was a slim, wild beauty, even more so when he overlooked her obstinate behavior and venomous tongue. The way the sun cast her in rays of light made her look ethereal, reminding him of a water goddess, as if she commanded the vast sea itself.

Fagan turned on his heel, pulling a piece of dried beef from his sack before he lost his wits. He sat down on his blanket and tossed a piece of meat into his mouth. Torquil walked toward him with Kat, and they sat beside him.

“What can we do now?”

“Lad, ye have an entire beach and the sea all to yourself.” When he glanced over Torquil's shoulder, Grace had her eyes closed and her face lifted toward the sun. “Lady Grace looks verra warm. Mayhap she needs to cool off, eh?” He winked at the boy, and seeing the amusement in Torquil's eyes, Fagan laughed. “Donna tell her I sent ye her way. She'll have my head. That means ye too, Kat.”

The little girl raised her fingers to her lips to stay a giggle. “I won't.”

“Come on, Kat. Let's devise a way to sneak up on her so she doesnae see us.”

Fagan leaned back on his elbows and couldn't wait to see Grace get ruffled once more. At least this time he would not be the object of her displeasure. As Torquil and Kat stealthily made their way behind their unsuspecting victim, Fagan didn't even try to mask his smile. The two of them hastily cupped handfuls of water, soaking Princess Grace. He wasn't certain if it was the first, second, or the third time that Torquil and Kat's hands went in the water, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Grace lost her collectedness.

Just as Fagan had expected, the lass screamed and jumped.

“How dare you!” Grace whipped around, and a sudden chill hung on the edge of her words.

Fire lit her eyes in a sparkling display. Fagan jumped to his feet to come to Torquil and Kat's aid, but then he paused when the woman did something unexpected. She dropped her skirts in the water and her smile deepened to laughter. She cupped handfuls of water and tossed them right back at Torquil and Kat.

“Nay! Nay!”

“What's the matter, Torquil? You don't like to get a little wet?” When Katherine started to retreat out of the water, Grace grabbed the girl from behind. “And just where do you think you're going, Sister? Oh no, you don't.”

Kat kicked in the water as Grace lifted her sister from her feet. “Stop, Grace! Stop!”

“But it's all right when you get me wet, eh?”

“It wasn't my idea! It was Fagan! It was Fagan!”

Torquil placed his hands on his hips. “Kat, ye werenae supposed to say that! Ye gave your word. Fagan will be cross with ye.”

And that's the moment when Fagan realized he'd been sold out by a wee lassie with a big heart and a big smile.

* * *

“I heard that I have you to thank for this.” Grace grabbed a blanket from her mount. She was attempting to pat her hair dry while Fagan rested his arm on the saddle, trying to mask a smile.

“Ye seemed to enjoy yourself before ye found out I was the cause.”

“Please don't misunderstand me, Mister Murray. The children do not bother me.
You
bother me. Why are you even here? Why aren't you out protecting Ruairi's lands or doing whatever it is you do?”

His eyes narrowed. “Ruairi is my laird. I go everywhere he goes. 'Tis my duty.”

“A pity the poor man cannot even relieve himself alone.”

“Ye're verra amusing.”

“Contrary to what you might think, I am not here for your amusement.”

He clenched his mouth tighter, and then he looked away from her. “I see Torquil and wee Katherine are getting along now. Mayhap ye can learn something from your nine-year-old sister.”

Grace didn't miss the heavy sarcasm that dripped from his voice. How could she? She waited for him to look her in the eye. “Perhaps when you cease acting like a twelve-year-old boy, Mister Murray, you and I will get along just fine.” She brushed past him, poking her elbow into his gut on the way by. “Pray excuse me.”

As Grace approached her sister, Ravenna glanced up from the blanket. Ruairi sat beside her, leaning back on his elbows. “Please tell me you're not sparring again with Fagan.” There was a strong hint of censure in Ravenna's voice.

“Of course not. What is there to spar about? That would mean I actually cared what the man thought of something.”

When her brother-in-law chuckled, Grace had an underlying feeling that he was mocking her. “Pardon, Ruairi?”

Ravenna mumbled under her breath to her husband, and he gave his wife an appeasing nod in return. He fingered the material of his kilt as if he were trying to contain himself and hid a smile.

“Och, it wasnae anything of importance.”

“I was wondering if I could have a moment alone with my sister.” Ruairi was about to stand when Grace held out her hand to stay him. “Please don't get up. Ravenna, why don't you walk with me along the beach?”

“All right.” Her sister stood, brushing down her skirts and shaking the sand from her day dress. She gazed down at her husband. Without warning, he reached up, smacking Ravenna on the bottom with the palm of his hand.

“Donna be too long, Wife.”

When his eyes darkened like a summer storm, Grace grabbed her sister by the arm and led her away from her kilted husband. And to think she'd believed the wooing part of a relationship was over the instant someone was wed. The way Ravenna and Ruairi continued to behave, she'd begun to think they were an exception to that rule.

As Grace walked along the edge of the shore with her sister, her steps slowed and she moved her feet away from the water. She wasn't sure why, because she was already wet from being targeted by two little miscreants. She glanced at Ravenna, who looked as if her thoughts were off in some distant land.

“Marriage suits you.”

Ravenna's smile broadened further. “I'd like to think so.”

“I never thought I'd say this, but I believe this is where you're meant to be. You've spent far too much time being concerned about us, trying to care for everyone around you but yourself. This is your time to enjoy your life. You deserve happiness, and I'm glad you've found it with Ruairi, even if your life is now here in the Highlands.” She made every effort not to crinkle her nose.

“Thank you for your kind words. You know how much I love you and the girls with all my heart, but being with Ruairi… I never realized there was something missing until I found it.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry. Here I am prattling on like some silly chit, and I'm sure you know exactly what I mean because you feel the same way about Daniel.”

“I was hoping to steal you away for a moment to talk to you about something.”

“Of course. What do you want to talk about?”

Grace stopped and smoothed her hair as it whipped in her face. “I'm concerned for Elizabeth.”

Ravenna sighed. “You don't think Elizabeth and Kat will like it here. I thought we talked about this. They only need time.”

“Oh, no, it's nothing like that. Our sister told me that since you're wed and I'm soon to be, she knows she's next.”

“Elizabeth shouldn't be worried over such things. Ruairi and I aren't going to make marriage arrangements for her anytime soon. She's fifteen. She has plenty of time.”

“And I told her the same, but it seems our dear sister has come to fancy one of these Highland men.”

Ravenna stared at Grace with astonishment. “What?
Who?
Please don't tell me she favors Fagan. That would be awkward.”

“I don't think you have to worry about that. It's not your husband's captain she favors.” Grace lifted a brow.

“If not Fagan, then who?”

“Laird Munro.”

Ravenna's voice rose in surprise. “
Ian?

As her sister spotted Elizabeth walking alone on the beach, Grace watched the play of emotions on Ravenna's face. Grace was relieved to see that her sister suffered from the same distress she did.

“What are we going to do?” asked Grace.

“I need a moment to think about your words because I still can't believe them. Ian. I don't know if they've ever said two words to each other.” Ravenna pulled back the hair that blew across her lips. “She's only fifteen, and Ian is around Ruairi's age.”

“Yes, I know. He's old.”

“My husband is only thirty, and I suppose you've forgotten that I'm twenty-six. You must think me old as well.”

Grace shrugged. “You did wait until you were twenty-six to wed. I thought perhaps you were going to die an old spinster.”

“How refreshing,” Ravenna said dryly.

“What are we going to do?”

“Nothing. I'm sure whatever Elizabeth is feeling will pass. Furthermore, I don't think Ian has any intention of paying Ruairi another visit anytime soon, especially with all of us women under one roof. I tend to think we frighten the men.”

“With good reason, but Elizabeth was not my only concern. We need to talk about Kat. She's been following around that poor boy relentlessly. Between you and Ruairi, Elizabeth and Laird Munro, Kat and the laird's son, I don't know what's wrong with all of you. It's as if you all suffer from the same Scottish ailment. I seem to be the only Walsingham sister left with any sense,” Grace scoffed. “Don't you think that our mother and father raised us with higher standards than what these men have to offer?”

“Grace…”

She held up her hands in mock defense. “I know. I'll try to hold my tongue. I just do not understand why you would choose these
Highlanders
over a peer of the realm.”

“That's not how love works.”

Grace didn't feel like being the recipient of another of Ravenna's haughty lectures so she quickly changed the subject. “What are we going to do about Kat?”

“She's young and close to Torquil's age. This is all new to her, and I'm certain once she becomes more content here, she'll leave him alone. I'm sure she only wants a friend since she's left hers behind.”

“I suppose you're right. I told Ruairi's captain the same.”

“Good. Everything is settled then.”

Grace folded her arms over her chest. “Not quite. I want to know when you're going to teach me more because I have every intention of speaking to Uncle Walter when I return home. I want to do this. I want to be a spy for the Crown.”

* * *

While the masses were gathered to return to the castle, Fagan grabbed the mounts and led them over. Ruairi assisted Ravenna, and then he lifted Kat and Torquil onto their horses. Fagan helped Elizabeth, but when he turned to aid Grace, she held up her hand to stay him.

“I don't need your assistance. I can do it myself.”

He backed away from her with raised hands. “Ye donna need to tell me twice.”

Fagan swung his leg over his mount and waited for the Sutherland-Walsingham brood to depart. He trailed behind, following everyone up the sandy trail. When Angus darted onto the path from the field, Ravenna promptly removed both feet from the stirrups, lifting her legs onto her horse's neck.

“Ravenna, what are you doing?” asked Grace.

Ruairi looked over his shoulder and groaned. “Donna ask.”

“I'm not giving Angus a chance to bite my feet.”

“I thought the two of ye were now friends,” said Fagan.

“And I believed you would've been over this foolish fear by now,” said Grace. “It's been years since that dog bit you.”

“I'm not afraid of dogs,” said Kat.

“Angus isnae a dog. He's a wolf,” said Torquil.

Ruairi raised his voice. “I've already learned that nay matter what ye say to my wife, words donna make any difference. She will do and believe what she wants.”

“Of course she will. She is a Walsingham,” said Grace, her voice laced with pride.

“So that explains everything,” said Fagan under his breath.

Grace turned in the saddle and glared at him. “You do realize that I heard you, Mister Murray.”

“And I heard ye,
bhana-phrionnsa
.” He lowered his voice and gave her a roguish grin. “Fagan.”

She whipped around in the saddle and tossed her locks over her shoulder in a defiant gesture. He suddenly had the impression this was going to be the longest month of his life.

They entered the bailey, not soon enough for Fagan, and he couldn't decide if he wanted to eat in the great hall or seek solace behind the closed doors in Ruairi's study with a tankard of ale in one hand. The latter would provide better company, but he knew Ruairi would chide him if he started making sudden disappearances from the clan.

As the lasses and Torquil went to their chambers to change their wet clothes, Fagan sat with Ruairi on the dais in the great hall. The tables below were filled with a score of Sutherland men and women, and for a blessed moment, the clan was back to the way it had been before the Walsingham sisters arrived and everything went awry.

“I think I'm going to ride out to the border after we sup,” said Fagan.

Ruairi nodded. “To escape or truly check on the border?”

“Both.”

“At least we nay longer have to fear the Gordon will be raising havoc, and Stewart and the Seton clan will nae be paying us a visit anytime soon, thanks to my wife.”

BOOK: Kilts and Daggers
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