She tilted her head to look up at him. “Is that why you accompany me instead of Connor?”
“Aye, Lord MacLeod was concerned fer yer safety after Lady Moira’s—”
“If he was so concerned with my safety, why didn’t
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defend me?” Her anger flared as she pictured Rory sitting silently by while his betrothed maligned her character to everyone gathered in the hal .
Cal um winced. “Lady MacLean was verra upset that ye meant to bring harm to the laird and he was busy comfortin’
her.”
Ali snorted. “I’m sure he was.”
“But doona’ fear, my lady, Fergus wil na’ al ow anyone to speak against ye in his presence.” The big man smiled.
“He’s verra protective of ye, as is the laird’s brother.”
“That’s something to be thankful for at least.” Her head jerked up at the sound of a sharp crack and the rustle of branches. Cal um shoved her behind him and drew his sword.
Peering around his bulky frame, Ali scanned the cluster of trees. If that little witch got her kil ed because of her stupid accusations, she’d make her life hel .
“Shh, my lady,” Cal um admonished, his eyes fixed on their surroundings.
“There’s nothing out there,” she whispered, just as a streak of brown darted amongst the pines.
“Halt,” her protector growled. “Show yerself.”
Out from behind a tree stepped the young boy who’d stood up for Ali and Mari the other day in the hal . “What are ye doin’ so far from home, Jamie Cameron?” Cal um resheathed his sword; the tension in his stance eased.
“I’m goin’ to the glen to train with the laird.”
“I doona’ think so, laddie. Yer mother wil na’ be al owin’ that, I’m certain.”
Ali heard the rumble of laughter in the big man’s words as she stepped from behind him.
“I doona’ care.” With his bottom lip thrust out, the 134
young boy began to march in the direction from where they’d come.
For a man his size, Cal um was quick. He had Jamie by the col ar before he’d ventured more than a foot. “Aye, ye wil . I ken yer mother wel , laddie, and if she catches ye anywhere near the glen, she’l tan yer hide.”
Jamie glared at Cal um, a mutinous expression on his freckled face.
“Save yer wee looks. They’l do no good on me. Now, come with me and Lady Aileanna. I’l see ye home.” Cal um nudged him onto the trail ahead of them. The boy grumbled, kicking at any stone that happened to be in his way.
“How is it ye got away from yer mother in the first place?
I hear she’s been keepin’ a tight rein on ye these days.”
The boy shrugged. “She’s helpin’ in the kitchens. They’re busy preparin’ fer the big feast Lady MacLean has or dered.”
“I imagine they’l be needin’ extra hands. ’Twil be as hot as Hades in the kitchens this day.” Cal um shook his head, muttering under his breath.
“I don’t suggest you kick that one, Jamie. You’l break your toe,” Ali advised absently as the boy drew back his foot to strike a rock the size of a watermelon. “Is there a special reason for the feast, Cal um?” Ali asked, keeping her voice as casual as she could despite the tension build
ing inside her.
“The MacLeans are expectin’ some of their kin to arrive at Dunvegan this day. ’Tis said they’re bringin’ word of the adventurers, but I’m thinkin’ there’s more to it than that.”
“Oh, I thought maybe it was a . . . a wedding feast,” Ali said, the relief in her voice obvious; unable to deny, at least to herself, that she didn’t want Rory to marry Moira MacLean. And it had nothing to do with her wanting him, Ali reassured herself. She just couldn’t imagine him being happy with that woman. LORD OF THE ISLES
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“Nay, but I fear ’twil no’ be long before ’tis.”
“Why . . . why would you say that?” Ali grabbed ahold of Cal um’s arm as she stumbled over the same rock she’d warned Jamie about and cursed inwardly. Cal um shrugged as they came to the clearing. With no trees to shield them from the sun, the searing rays beat down upon them. “The laird has no choice, my lady. He has to make
