approached him. But he reached out his arm, wrapped it about her shoulders, and steered her away from his companions. Stanford followed along behind as Shona raised a bemused expression to her father. But just then a golden-haired woman turned toward her.
"Sara!" Shona cried, and launching from her father's embrace, threw herself into her cousin's arms. "When did ye arrive? Why wasn't I told immediately? Did Rachel come with ye? And what of Boden and Maggie? How is sweet Thomas? Have ye heard from Liam?'' she rambled.
“She is really quite fatigued just now. Nearly beyond speech, as ye can see," Roderic said. But Lord Stanford did not comment, for he was now the one momentarily beyond speech.
With an effort he found his voice. "Is she...is she another of your daughter's, my Laird?"
"Sara?" Roderic sighed. "Nay. I was blessed with only one wee lass," he said, putting his arm about the younger man's shoulders. "Tis said the good Lord willna give ye more trouble than ye can handle."
"Not a sister?" Stanford said, refusing for a moment to be drawn away. "But—"
"Aye, they look much alike. My own twin's daughter is Sara, but there's no point in gangling about now, lad, for ye'll get no attention from either of them until they've talked things through."
"But I...couldn't I just...watch them?"
Roderic laughed out loud at the wistful tone, then tightened his grip and steered the younger man away. "Twould serve ye well to try not to act too pathetic, lad," he advised. "I know tis difficult, but..."
His voice trailed away.
"Sara," Shona crooned, pushing her to arm's length. "Ye look glorious. Shining..." She shook her head, trying to ascertain what had changed. “But...ye look different somehow."
Sara laughed then lowered her gaze to where Shona's plaid parted. "And ye look somewhat...changed, too," she said. Reaching out, she tugged the ends of the woolen back together.
"So I think we'd best get ye to the privacy of your chambers before the Rogue decides to geld one of your suitors."
"Oh!" Shona said, remembering her dishevelment and glancing nervously about to make certain no one had noticed her shameful state. "Aye, let us retire to my quarters."
They hurried up the winding stone stairs, chattering about everything and nothing until they had entered Shona's narrow chamber.
"Your quarters have shrunk," Sara said, closing the arched iron-bound door behind them.
Shona laughed. “Better that than to room with a bevy of giggly women who snore and swoon at unpredictable intervals."
She removed the plaid from her shoulders. Sara raised her fair brows as she was granted a better view of the gown's long-suffering state.
"So tell me, lass, is the perpetrator still alive?"
Shona dropped to her knees to lift the lid of a large, nearby trunk. "I suspect it would do little good to tell ye I have no idea what you're talking about."
Sara laughed. "No good atall. Who was it this time?"
Grasping a white nightgown from the pile of clothing in the trunk, Shona rose to face her. "It was not my fault."
"I didna say it—Shona!" Sara said, reaching for the amulet that dangled into sight as her cousin leaned forward in an attempt to untie her laces. "Ye have Dragonheart."
"Aye." Shona beamed as she straightened. "I found him in the waters of Burn Gael some months ago."
"But..." Reaching out, Sara smoothed her fingers over the ruby that gleamed from the center of the dragon's broad chest. "That canna be, for it was lost in the Burn Creag when Warwick snatched it from my neck three years ago."
Even through the tattered cloth of her gown, the dragon felt warmer suddenly, as if Sara's presence moved it somehow. Shona shrugged. "I canna explain it. It seems our Dragonheart survived though the evil wizard perished. Twas a thrill to find the amulet unscathed. But if ye want it back..."
"Nay," Sara said and smiled nostalgically. "I'm glad ye have it, what with your ties to the king and the turmoil there."
"What do ye mean?"
Sara
"Sara!" Shona cried, and launching from her father's embrace, threw herself into her cousin's arms. "When did ye arrive? Why wasn't I told immediately? Did Rachel come with ye? And what of Boden and Maggie? How is sweet Thomas? Have ye heard from Liam?'' she rambled.
“She is really quite fatigued just now. Nearly beyond speech, as ye can see," Roderic said. But Lord Stanford did not comment, for he was now the one momentarily beyond speech.
With an effort he found his voice. "Is she...is she another of your daughter's, my Laird?"
"Sara?" Roderic sighed. "Nay. I was blessed with only one wee lass," he said, putting his arm about the younger man's shoulders. "Tis said the good Lord willna give ye more trouble than ye can handle."
"Not a sister?" Stanford said, refusing for a moment to be drawn away. "But—"
"Aye, they look much alike. My own twin's daughter is Sara, but there's no point in gangling about now, lad, for ye'll get no attention from either of them until they've talked things through."
"But I...couldn't I just...watch them?"
Roderic laughed out loud at the wistful tone, then tightened his grip and steered the younger man away. "Twould serve ye well to try not to act too pathetic, lad," he advised. "I know tis difficult, but..."
His voice trailed away.
"Sara," Shona crooned, pushing her to arm's length. "Ye look glorious. Shining..." She shook her head, trying to ascertain what had changed. “But...ye look different somehow."
Sara laughed then lowered her gaze to where Shona's plaid parted. "And ye look somewhat...changed, too," she said. Reaching out, she tugged the ends of the woolen back together.
"So I think we'd best get ye to the privacy of your chambers before the Rogue decides to geld one of your suitors."
"Oh!" Shona said, remembering her dishevelment and glancing nervously about to make certain no one had noticed her shameful state. "Aye, let us retire to my quarters."
They hurried up the winding stone stairs, chattering about everything and nothing until they had entered Shona's narrow chamber.
"Your quarters have shrunk," Sara said, closing the arched iron-bound door behind them.
Shona laughed. “Better that than to room with a bevy of giggly women who snore and swoon at unpredictable intervals."
She removed the plaid from her shoulders. Sara raised her fair brows as she was granted a better view of the gown's long-suffering state.
"So tell me, lass, is the perpetrator still alive?"
Shona dropped to her knees to lift the lid of a large, nearby trunk. "I suspect it would do little good to tell ye I have no idea what you're talking about."
Sara laughed. "No good atall. Who was it this time?"
Grasping a white nightgown from the pile of clothing in the trunk, Shona rose to face her. "It was not my fault."
"I didna say it—Shona!" Sara said, reaching for the amulet that dangled into sight as her cousin leaned forward in an attempt to untie her laces. "Ye have Dragonheart."
"Aye." Shona beamed as she straightened. "I found him in the waters of Burn Gael some months ago."
"But..." Reaching out, Sara smoothed her fingers over the ruby that gleamed from the center of the dragon's broad chest. "That canna be, for it was lost in the Burn Creag when Warwick snatched it from my neck three years ago."
Even through the tattered cloth of her gown, the dragon felt warmer suddenly, as if Sara's presence moved it somehow. Shona shrugged. "I canna explain it. It seems our Dragonheart survived though the evil wizard perished. Twas a thrill to find the amulet unscathed. But if ye want it back..."
"Nay," Sara said and smiled nostalgically. "I'm glad ye have it, what with your ties to the king and the turmoil there."
"What do ye mean?"
Sara
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