“Mrs. Macpherson and Fergus have been verra kind—
the laird, too.”
“You met Lord MacLeod?”
“Aye. He’s the bonniest man I ever did see.” The girl sighed.
Ali wrinkled her nose. “I guess.”
58
“You doona’ think he’s bonny, my lady?”
“Aye.” Oh, for God’s sake, now she was starting to talk like them. “I mean, yes, he’s very handsome. But you know, Mari, it’s more than good looks that make a man.”
“I ken it wel , my lady, but everyone kens the laird is a good man. He’s kind and generous, and verra powerful. No one man can take our laird down.”
Ali snorted. “Wel , someone almost did.”
“Are ye talkin’ aboot his wound? ’Twas five against one, my lady—no’ a fair fight.”
Five . . . one man against five. Ali didn’t know why she was surprised, not when she thought of his rippling mus cles and the strength of his hands—hands that could crush a man, or bring a woman to the edge with a gentle caress. Ali’s stomach clenched at the memory, and she shot out of the chair. “Okay, perfect, that’s wonderful, Mari.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, unwil ing to continue the conversation about Rory MacLeod’s many attributes any further. “Thank you. Now I’d better see if Mrs. Mac needs me for anything. Would you like to spend some time out side? It’s a lovely day.”
“Thank ye, my lady, but I’l see to yer gown.”
“Al right.”
Standing in the long narrow corridor outside her room, Ali contemplated her best course of action. Deciding to begin one floor at a time, she headed for the stairs and almost col ided with the laird himself when he slammed out of his chambers.
“Lady Aileanna, I’m sorry.” He reached out to steady her.
“No harm done.” She took a step backward, putting some distance between them. “You know, Lord MacLeod, just because you’re feeling better doesn’t mean you should resume your daily activities right away.”
He arched a brow; the corner of his mouth twitched.
“And what do you consider my daily activities, lass?”
LORD OF THE ISLES
59
She waved her hand. “Oh, I don’t know—laird things.”
“Laird things?” He grinned. “I’l keep that in mind, Aileanna.”
He walked down the curved staircase beside her, match
ing his long stride with hers. “’Tis a verra bonny gown you have on, my lady. As bonny as the one you wore this morn.”
Ali stopped and stared at him. “I can’t believe you just said that. It is not very gentlemanly of you to remind me of this morning,” she muttered.
He leaned into her. His heated breath fanned her cheek.
“I’m no’ a gentleman, Aileanna.”
“You’re tel ing me,” she huffed. Anxious to get away from him, she fairly flew down the stairs, catching her foot on the underskirt of her gown.
“Lass, be careful you don—” His hand shot out, and he grabbed her before she tumbled headlong down the stairs.
“Thank you,” Ali murmured, feeling her cheeks flush.
“I’m fine. You can let me go.” She tried to pul away from him, but he held her firmly against his chest.
“Mayhap I doona’ want to, lass.” Heat flared in moss green eyes that ensnared her. The sound of raised voices broke the spel , and she jerked her gaze from his. “Let me go.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Aye, I wil , lass, as soon as you tel me where ’tis you’d be goin’.”
Ali’s eyes widened, panic inching its way up her chest at the thought he knew what she was up to. “Why? I didn’t realize I was your prisoner, Lord MacLeod.”
He arched a brow. “Yer my guest, Aileanna, and as such, under my protection. I only meant to suggest as yer unfa miliar with the lay of the land, Connor should accompany you. I would do it myself but I have things I must attend to.”
“No,” she blurted out. “I mean, thank you, but I won’t wander.”
“See that you don’t, Aileanna.” His voice held a warning, 60
