“She doesn’t,” Alex lied. “Shame, but I fear ye won’t be able to speak to her at all.”
“With women, it is possible to speak with only the eyes,” D’Arcy said, his gaze never leaving her face.
Ach, Frenchmen.
“What did he say?” Glynis asked.
“He wants to know where the privy is,” Alex said. “He needs to take a piss before we leave.”
Glynis’s eyebrows shot up, and she flushed a becoming shade of pink.
“What is the lady’s name?” D’Arcy asked.
“Glynis MacNeil.” Alex begrudged him the information. But since they would be traveling together all the way to the Campbell stronghold of Inveraray, he could not very well keep her name a secret.
“Is she yours?” D’arcy asked.
“Nay, she’s no mine.” Then, for no good reason, he added, “Not precisely.”
Why was he doing this? There could be no better man for Glynis. Lord Antoine d’Arcy was a champion knight who held important titles and lands in France and was closely connected to Scotland’s new regent. In addition, he had the personal virtues of being brave, honest, and conscientious. It was those qualities—rather than that ridiculous white scarf—that had earned D’Arcy the nickname the White Knight.
In fact, D’Arcy was so virtuous as to be a trifle dull. And he was not a Highlander, but the man could not help his birth.
“What has he been doing in Scotland?” Glynis asked.
Alex translated her question and groaned under his breath when he heard D’Arcy’s response.
“D’Arcy designed the new artillery and blockhouse at Dunbar Castle, to secure it in preparation for Albany’s return.” Alex cleared his throat. “And he designed the new artillery works here at Edinburgh Castle as well.”
Ach, being rich and titled was not enough? Must the man be brilliant as well?
“My, that is impressive,” Glynis said, nodding at D’Arcy.
“I suspect he also walks on water.” Alex found his friend’s list of accomplishments rather tedious.
“Your current lady is quite unlike the ones you had in France,” D’Arcy said, drawing Alex’s attention again. “She has a subtle beauty that is far more intriguing.”
“She is not my ‘current lady,’” Alex said between his teeth. He did not want D’Arcy thinking Glynis was that sort.
D’Arcy took his eyes off Glynis long enough to raise his eyebrows at Alex. “Then she is available, no?”
“Not in the way that ye are suggesting,” Alex said. “Shouldn’t ye be gathering your men? ’Tis no getting any earlier.”
“I have an extra mule the maid can ride,” D’Arcy said. “The lady will be more comfortable riding alone.”
When D’Arcy turned his horse to rejoin his men, Alex looked down to find that Sorcha had her face pressed against him. He could have kicked himself for letting his irritation with D’Arcy show. The child was so sensitive to his moods that he would have to be more careful.
“Nothing to worry about, little one,” he said, patting her soft hair. “No one here will harm ye.”
“’Tis fortunate we could join Lord d’Arcy’s group,” Glynis said, as they started off.
“Hmmph.” Alex would have preferred to travel separately, but traveling with D’Arcy’s men would be safer. With three females in his care, Alex had no choice.
As they rode out of the city, Alex tried desperately to think of what he would do with his daughter once they reached Skye. He could give her to his mother to raise—but he feared his parents would fight as much over a grandchild as they had over a son.
For a mile or two, he considered leaving Sorcha with his cousin Ian and his wife, as Sabine had suggested. But those twins were going to be terrors. Having been one himself, Alex could recognize the trait. Nay, that would not do at all.
He looked down at Sorcha, who had fallen asleep against him, and sighed. The deeper truth was that he did not want to give up his daughter. He never would have predicted that he would feel this way, but he did not question it, either. The problem was that he could not raise her alone—a girl needed a mother.
Alex tried mightily, but there was no avoiding the obvious conclusion. To keep his daughter close, he would have to shackle himself to a wife. He had been fooling himself, in any case, to believe he could escape matrimony forever. Neither his parents nor Connor would give him any peace until he stepped off that cliff.
He did not want a wife. But, like it or not, he had a sudden need for one.
The image of Glynis standing in front of rearing horses with a dirk in one hand and a bloody stick in the other came into his mind. She would make a fiercely protective mother. After Sabine’s indifference, that was precisely the kind of mother his daughter needed and deserved.
Glynis was at the top of Connor’s list of marriage prospects, so Alex could do his duty by his clan and provide a good mother for Sorcha at the same time. And it didn’t hurt that he had this abiding itch to bed the very woman who would suit both purposes so well.
Glynis needed a husband, and he needed a wife. Alex was sure he could work out a sensible arrangement with her.
He turned and gave Glynis a wide smile.
