cause of her had devastated Ali. And her response to Rory’s heated kisses only made matters worse. She’d almost con
vinced herself he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But men only cared about one thing. She thought she could do the same, but her heart always managed to get in the way. With her dating history, she was surprised she’d been so gul ible.
Fergus studied her from beneath his bushy brows. “Is somethin’ amiss, lass?”
“Oh, sweet Jesu’, I’d forgotten al aboot Angus.” Iain rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “What are we to do now, Fergus?”
The big man shrugged. “Waylay any messengers that come to Dunvegan.”
Iain tapped his spoon on the side of the wooden bowl.
“Yer better at sneakin’ aboot than me, so I’l leave it to you.”
Fergus nodded, then gave Ali a long, considering look. “Mrs. Mac says yer verra upset aboot the wee lass. Holdin’
yerself to blame.”
Ali blinked away the sting from behind her eyes. She
Iain shot her a look of concern. “I ken ’twas a terrible day fer you, Ali. They’l no’ al be like that.”
She tried to swal ow past the thick lump in her throat, but it was no use. Grabbing her mug, she gulped down a mouthful of ale. “That’s comforting,” she choked out. She studied the two men who sat across from her while they ate. Ali wished she could think of another way to find out where the fairy flag was hidden, but knew there was none. Using her wiles on Fergus would be next to useless, but Iain was another matter. A handsome man, charming LORD OF THE ISLES
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to the extreme, he’d made it clear that given the slightest bit of encouragement he would jump at it—or her.
“Iain, would you walk with me to the Chisholms’ this morning? I promised to check in on Maureen and the baby, and after . . .” She let her voice trail off and hoped the events of yesterday would make her little act as a distressed female believable. Trying her best to come across as helpless, she didn’t realize Rory had joined them until she heard the scrape of his chair as he dragged it back from the table.
“I thought you meant to miss breakin’ yer fast. Is yer wound actin’ up?”
“Nay, I didna’ have a chance to speak with Cal um and rectified the matter this morn.” Rory directed his answer to Fergus, but his gaze lingered on Ali. “Good morn, Aileanna,” he said quietly. She gave him a cool nod, but kept her gaze trained on Iain, who looked from her to his brother before answering.
“Aye, Ali, ’twil be my pleasure.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it, Iain.”
Rory eyed her over the rim of his mug. “And what does my brother have the pleasure of helpin’ you with, Aileanna?”
Although asked pleasantly enough, there was no mistaking the edge of steel beneath his question.
“He’s agreed to accompany me to the Chisholms’.” She poked at the oats with her spoon. Iain, as though he felt it necessary to explain, added,
“After yesterday Ali is understandably nervous to be on her own.”
Rory quirked a brow in her direction. “Is that so?” He kept his gaze trained on her while he took a mouthful of porridge.
Ali cursed Iain’s unerring need to explain his actions to his brother. She hoped he hadn’t triggered Rory’s suspi cions. He was one man she wouldn’t be able to fool. And 110
the one man that for the life of her she couldn’t keep her eyes off of. Fascinated despite herself, she watched the movement of the powerful muscles in his throat as he drank his ale. With a concerted effort, she dragged her gaze away, wishing, not for the first time, he’d been cursed with some deformity. He was too damn gorgeous for his own good—and hers. “If you’l excuse me, I’l meet you in the courtyard in a few minutes, Iain. Fergus, Lord MacLeod.”
She nodded in their direction.
“Aileanna—” Rory paused, waiting for her to acknowl
edge that he’d spoken to her.
She sighed and turned to face him. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the back of her chair. The corner of his mouth twitched and amusement glinted in his eyes as he looked at her. “You’l be ridin’ to the Chisholms’.”
Ride? Her brow furrowed. Good God, he wanted her to ride a horse. “Thank you, but I’d prefer to walk.”
