A stab of guilt twisted in Rory’s gut at the thought she suffered on account of him. If he had not been busy pla cating Moira, he would have defended Aileanna himself and not left it to Fergus and Iain. The clan had obviously taken his silence to mean he concurred with Moira’s accu
sations. Moira’s sweetness reminded him more of his late wife than Aileanna, who so closely resembled her physi cal y, and he found himself trying to protect Moira as he had failed to protect Brianna. He cleared his throat. “And that was it?”
Cal um shrugged. “We met up with wee Jamie, takin’
himself off to join ye in the glen he was.”
Rory grunted. “Janet would no’ be pleased.”
“Nay, she wasna’. She’d been helpin’ Cook in the kitchens and Lady Aileanna offered to take her place so she could tend to the lad.”
Rory stared at the man, certain he misunderstood him.
“You canna’ mean to say she worked in the kitchens.”
“I ken it was what she intended on doin’. But I’m no’
certain Cook would let her past the door.”
LORD OF THE ISLES
147
“I’m certain he wouldna’. Fergus send Iain to speak with Cook. He has a way with the mon.”
“I’l see to him myself. Iain is busy seein’ to Aileanna.”
The muscle in Rory’s jaw pulsated. His hands clenched into fists. The thought of his brother comforting Aileanna brought him to the edge of his control. Both men eyed him expectantly, as though they awaited an outburst, but he re fused to give them the satisfaction. He denied them the confirmation that she’d gotten under his skin, into his heart. He knew that’s what they thought. Fergus had said as much.
When Fergus opened the door to leave, Cyril and his cousin pushed past him. Fergus shot Rory a questioning look and he shook his head. Wel aware of what Cyril wanted, Rory thought it best Fergus was out of earshot.
“Rory, what do ye intend to do with that . . . that woman?”
Cyril demanded, waving his hands in a dramatic fashion.
“Doona’ worry, I’l deal with Aileanna in my own way. Now if you have nothin’ further to add, I need to speak to my housekeeper. Cal um, tel Mrs. Mac I’d like to have a word with her.” Cal um gave him a curt nod and went to do his bidding, leveling Cyril with a cold, hard stare before he left the study.
“Wel . . . wel , I never.” The man puffed up like a peacock.
“Yer household is in sore need of discipline if ye ask me.”
Rory reclined in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I didna’. Aidan, you look to be gearin’ up to give me a piece of yer mind. Why doona’ you get if off yer chest?”
“Nay, cousin, sittin’ back and enjoyin’ the wee show is al .” Aidan leaned against the book-lined shelf and grinned.
“I hope Lady Aileanna wil be joinin’ us fer the evenin’
meal. The lass is verra entertainin’ and has an interestin’
way with words. Stuff it—is that what she told ye to do?”
Before Rory could respond, Cyril hotly interrupted. “Ye 148
canna’ mean to have that woman join us this eve, Rory. ’T
would be most upsettin’ to poor Moira.”
“I’m sorry fer that, Cyril, but I fear I doona’ have much choice. If I did, several members of my household wil see I pay fer the slight.”
His cousin guffawed. “I never thought I’d see the day the great Rory Mor was brought low by a woman.”
Rory stifled his response when Mrs. Mac entered his study, drying her hands on her apron. It didn’t take much to note her displeasure upon seeing Cyril there.
“Cyril, Aidan, I’l speak with you later.” He dismissed the two men.
They had barely left the room when Mrs. Mac said,
“You’d best get on with it. I have much to see to with al the guests aboot to arrive.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mac. I didna’ ken the invitation had been extended until it was too late. I think Moira—” Rory stopped himself, wel aware Moira MacLean was not one of Mrs. Mac’s favorites. He thought it best not to tel her Moira had assumed by this time the betrothal would be as good as done, and thought to celebrate with her kin this eve. Rory didn’t have the heart to deny her, but stil , he would not commit to making the announcement and had spent most of his time on the field, avoiding Cyril. For some reason his cousin had kept his pestering to a minimum, but every so often Rory had sensed Aidan watching him. They’d been close as boys. Aidan had fos tered with them in his youth, and Rory thought him as much a brother as Iain.
“What is it yer wantin’ to ken?” she asked, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead.
“What was Aileanna doin’ in the hal ?”
