Page 91 of Rogue with a Brogue
“Against the wall, then,” he amended, “so they cannae come at us from behind.”
“Arran!” Bear called, leaping from his big gray gelding and bowling over three Campbells as he strode forward.
Cursing, Arran shifted one of his pistols, aiming it at his brother and praying that hotheaded Munro wouldn’t press the issue. “No closer!”
“What the devil do ye think ye’re aboot?” Munro demanded, barely slowing his approach.
“Stop, Bear! I will shoot ye!”
His brother finally stopped, a look of baffled anger on his face. “The hell ye will, Arran.”
“You damned MacLawry, get away from my daughter!” Fendarrow swung down from his horse but approached much more cautiously than Bear had. There was no sign of Calder, and that troubled Arran.
“And I’m telling ye to stay away from my wife!” he snarled back.
The pushing and shoving around them changed to a roar. They were watching the resumption of a full-out clan war, he knew, MacLawrys against Campbells. And the first man to die would signal the last moment of peace he and Mary would ever find in the Highlands.
Abruptly Mary moved up beside him. “You’re too late!” she yelled, flinging off her hat and shaking out her hair. Thank God she’d done that; he didn’t want anyone mistaking her for a lad and shooting her by accident.
“Come away from there, Mary! Now!” her father shouted back.
“No! Arran and I are married. You can’t kill him and pretend it never happened, because all these men know it now!” The point of her knife flashed as she gestured.
“We dunnae want to hurt anyone,” Arran took up. “But by God I’ll nae let anyone between us!”
“Strike if you wish the truce to end,” Mary continued, as fierce as any Highlands warrior and lovely even in a coat and trousers. “But you will all have to face the wrath of my grandfather, the Duke of Alkirk. The Campbell.”
“Will they now?” a new voice came from the edge of the clearing. Dry and cool, it made the hairs on the back of Arran’s neck prick.
“Good God,” Mary whispered. He risked a glance at her, to see that her flushed cheeks had paled to an alarming degree.
The nest of Campbells stirred, moving aside as someone passed among them. Bobbing heads, downcast eyes, and a bit away from them, the stiff-spined Fendarrow looking like he’d swallowed a bug. A tall man with snow-white, close-cropped hair, straight shoulders, and sharp eyes deeply set in an angular face stepped into view. Arran didn’t need to see the diamond pin in his lapel or the green and red plaid of his kilt to know precisely who he was.
“Yer Grace,” he said, lowering both pistols. The mad shooting might have been avoided, but unless he was greatly mistaken the situation had just become much more dangerous. “We thought to meet with ye in a few days, in the Highlands.”
“I received word that ye and my granddaughter were heading north. Yer brother and I seem to have come to the same conclusion—that ye would come here. Especially with Fendarrow on yer heels.”
“I knew they were coming to Gretna Green, Your Grace,” the marquis said crisply. “There was no need for you to travel all this way.”
“Aye, this looks very orderly,” Bear commented, his rifle lowered but still in his hands.
“I dunnae care who came from where,” Arran stated, wishing Mary would move back behind him again, where he could put himself between her and any gunfire. “Go and make yer peace or yer war as ye will. Mary and I are wed. All we ask is to be left alone.”
The Campbell came a few steps closer. “Are ye mute now, Muire?” he asked, using the Gaelic version of Mary’s name. “Does this MacLawry speak fer ye?”
“No, I am not mute,seanair,” she returned, “and yes, in this he does speak for me.”
“And together ye decided to flee north and risk war? Ye decided together to throw an alliance with the MacAllisters back intomyface and set all the Highlands into a rage? Perhaps ye should speak fer yerself.”
“We didn’t decide to flee north,” she countered. “I kissed Arran and everyone saw us and Lord Delaveer walked away, and the next day Father declared that I was to marry Charles Calder instead. Arran rescued me from that, and we headed north so I could ask for your assistance.”
“Ah.” Alkirk flicked his gaze to Arran. “Ye wanted my assistance as well, did ye, MacLawry?”
“Nae. I wanted yer granddaughter. But I gave my word I would see her to yer door, whatever happened between us.”
“It seems a wedding happened between ye. Withoot my permission.”
Arran regarded him coolly. “Aye.”
