Page 3 of The Devil Wears Kilts
“Ran! Ranulf!”
At the sound of his brother’s voice Ranulf lowered his shoulders. “Fergus, off. Una, off.” He kneed Stirling back onto the narrow trail. “Do ye not know the meaning of the word ‘alone’?” he asked.
“Ye didnae say ‘alone.’” It wasn’t just Munro, but Arran and Lachlan as well, trotting alongside the river in his direction. Munro, the youngest of them but for Rowena, tossed a rifle in his direction. “And ye know better than to go off unarmed,” he continued, frowning.
Ranulf caught the weapon in his free hand, and with the other twirled the blade he still held in his fingers before shoving it back into his boot. “I wasnae unarmed. And I’d wager Fergus or Una could run down a horse, if they wished it.”
“They couldnae outrun a musket ball.” Arran gestured at the knife hilt. “And that’ll do ye up close, but cowards rarely strike from close by.”
“It takes three of ye to deliver a gun, now?” True or not, he wasn’t going to let any of them chastise him. He was the damned eldest, and by four years. Arran wouldn’t see thirty for another three years—or at all, if he didn’t mind himself.
“I’m here because it’s safer than stayin’ in the house,” his heir apparent drawled back at him, unconcerned. He patted the sack strapped to the back of his saddle. “And I brought fishing tackle.”
“I came because I didnae want a saddle thrown at my head,” Munro, Bear to his family and friends, seconded with a grin. “She’s locked herself in her room, but who knows how long that’ll last?”
“And I wasn’t aboot to be left there alone with Winnie,” Lachlan put in.
“I dunnae know why not,” Arran countered. “Ye’re the one who said ye wouldnae dance with her, ye coward.”
“She’s a wee bairn. I’ve known her since her hair was too short fer pigtails. I dunnae know why she’s been acting so odd lately, but I want no part of it.”
“She’s acting odd because she fancies you, Lachlan,” Arran countered. “Though I dunnae know how Ranulf feels about that.”
“Neither do I,” Ranulf said, though that wasn’t entirely true.
Lachlan eyed him. “I feel like we should go fishing. And she only thinks she fancies me because I’m the only man close to her age you allow about her.”
That was likely true, but as Ranulf had several years ago decided that Lachlan would be a good match for Rowena, he hadn’t seen any reason to go parading her about. Instead of commenting on Lachlan’s statement, he gestured toward the waterfall and rise ahead. “Up to the loch, then, while she cools her temper.”
A full day of bringing in trout and perch, and especially of watching Munro slide backside first into Loch Shinaig, certainly improved Ranulf’s mood. He could only hope that a day spent with Mitchell, Rowena’s commiserating maid, would lighten his sister’s mood, as well. If she would only stop with her fanciful daydreams for a moment, she was bound to realize that she’d received some fine gifts from brothers and friends who doted on her, and that Friday would be the grandest party the Highlands had seen in decades.
It was nearly sunset by the time the lot of them handed their strings of fish over to Cooper as the butler pulled open the front door. “Lady Rowena?” Ranulf asked, shedding his caped greatcoat and stomping mud off his boots.
“Nary a sign of my lady,” Cooper returned, signaling for a footman to come and collect the makings of their supper. “Stewart Terney came to call on ye, m’laird, but said to never mind as ye’re to meet tomorrow down by the mill, and it could wait till then.”
Ranulf nodded. “My thanks.”
“Aye,” Bear put in. “If ye’d sent him up to the loch after us, that man’s dour face would’ve turned all the fish belly side up.”
“Enough of that, Munro.” Ranulf favored his brother with a brief frown. “Ye’d be sour-faced too, with only Glengask sending ye grain. In his grandfather’s time he had business from the Campbells and the Gerdenses and the Wallaces, in addition to us.” Hopefully he would be able to increase the quantity of wheat he sent to the mill, at least, depending on the fee agreement he could make with Terney and on the summer weather.
“Wait till Winnie catches the scent of baked trout,” Munro drawled, heading upstairs. “That’ll entice her.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “A game of darts, Lach?”
Once the other two men had gone, Arran turned and angled his chin at the butler. With a quick nod Cooper and two accompanying footmen disappeared into the bowels of the great house. Ranulf leaned back against the foyer wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “What?”
“Just that ye and I and Bear ’ave all been to England and returned undamaged.”
“’Tis nae the same,” Ranulf countered. “I, at the least, wasnae wide-eyed and expecting a fairy tale. And as I recall, ye had something of a run-in with a war.”
“I served, just as I was supposed to. Don’t evade the point, Ran.”
“What point was that?”
“Winnie’s got a bee in her bonnet, and telling her no isnae going to stop her wanting to go.”
“I’ll nae have it, Arran. If the Sasannach had their way, there’d be naught but sheep in all the Highlands, and our entire clan tossed into the wind with all the rest. All the English want is money. And control. I’m not giving my only sister over to them. She’s Scottish, and she’ll stay in Scotland. She has a husband waiting for her, once Lachlan comes to realize she’s nae a bairn any longer.”
“Unless Lach has a different lass in mind. But that’s beside the point, now. Rowena’s also half English,” Arran said quietly. “As are ye and Munro and I.”
