unlikely. He didn’t believe in emotions. That didn’t stop the goose bumps from lifting along his skin. Even if he hadn’t been warned by Rory, he’d have still known not to trust the man. Neal was instantly on edge. And extremely wary.
“So! You’ve finally returned, have ye?”
The steward hailed him loudly, using a Scottish brogue Neal didn’t think he’d ever achieve, even if he wanted to.
“Good morning, Garrick,” Neal had answered.
Garrick had frowned. “Yer voice has changed.”
“Really?”
“Aye.”
“That’s...odd.”
They’d looked each other over. His steward hadn’t said anything for several seconds. If Neal had a timepiece he’d have heard it ticking away as the time passed. He’d tensed without conscious volition.
“The clan’s gathered. Prepared. Ye’ve na’ got much time.”
“Before what?”
“Did ye forget yer meetin’ today? With the MacAffrey laird?”
“Oh. That.”
Neal’s voice had lowered on the last word, clearly demonstrating his distaste. It had been at the periphery of his thought process to simply forego the coming event. Run away. Snatch a berth on the nearest ship going west. Disappear. Just let things happen here in the wilds of Scotland as they might. It was at that moment, standing beside Garrick, that Neal decided otherwise.
“Aye. That. Ye’ve got two hours. Mayhap less.”
“What’s the plan?”
“There’s some-what powerful strange aboot you, mon. Be ye serious?”
Neal had lifted an eyebrow. The man’s speech was thick enough to render it a foreign tongue. “I took a spill from my horse. Hit my head.” He lifted a lock of hair from his forehead to display it. Winced as his fingers touched the spot.
“I warned ye that horse was too much fer ye.”
“Yes. Well. Apparently, you weren’t the lone one with that advice. Is that the way to my chamber?”
Neal pointed to the portal Garrick had come through and started walking that direction. His steward fell into step with him.
“Of course na’.”
“I took a nasty spill, Garrick. Didn’t you hear? I seem to have lost a good bit of memory because of it. Most of it...of recent origin.”
“Truly?”
The hope in the man’s voice was grating.
“It comes and goes. So. If that isn’t the direction to my room, what is?”
The man pointed up to the landing. “Chieftain’s rooms are oop there. Where they’ve always been.”
Well, of course the duke would have the most regal path to his chamber. Neal should have figured that out. He selected the staircase on the right, jogged to it, and was halfway up when he noticed Garrick was directly behind him. Neal had stopped. Turned around. Regarded his steward for long moments. He was one step above the man. He could tell the additional height bothered Garrick. That was pleasurable. Neal had been hard-pressed not to show it.
“Why are you following me?”
“I am yer steward, Niall. Ye’ve been away most of yer life. Yer not familiar with our coostoms...so ye said. You’ll be a-needin’ my advice.”
“Oh. Not anymore.”
“What?”
The fellow was taken aback. His head went back along with his shoulders. Neal decided that reaction was even more pleasurable to observe. It took an act of will to hide that emotion, too.
“Tell you what? Why don’t you leave me alone to shower and shave? Change my attire. Grab a bite to eat. And then...we can meet back here in...? How about an hour and a half? How does that sound?”
“Shower?”
Crap. They didn’t have showers, either? Neal was extremely grateful for his position above Garrick. It was easier to look and act condescending.
“Just see that three large buckets of warmed water are delivered to my chamber. Oh! I’d also like breakfast. With coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”
“Ye want yer breakfast delivered? To yer rooms?”
“Yes. I do.”
“But—”
“You seem to possess excellent hearing, Garrick. Comprehension is another matter entirely. Sounds
“So! You’ve finally returned, have ye?”
The steward hailed him loudly, using a Scottish brogue Neal didn’t think he’d ever achieve, even if he wanted to.
“Good morning, Garrick,” Neal had answered.
Garrick had frowned. “Yer voice has changed.”
“Really?”
“Aye.”
“That’s...odd.”
They’d looked each other over. His steward hadn’t said anything for several seconds. If Neal had a timepiece he’d have heard it ticking away as the time passed. He’d tensed without conscious volition.
“The clan’s gathered. Prepared. Ye’ve na’ got much time.”
“Before what?”
“Did ye forget yer meetin’ today? With the MacAffrey laird?”
“Oh. That.”
Neal’s voice had lowered on the last word, clearly demonstrating his distaste. It had been at the periphery of his thought process to simply forego the coming event. Run away. Snatch a berth on the nearest ship going west. Disappear. Just let things happen here in the wilds of Scotland as they might. It was at that moment, standing beside Garrick, that Neal decided otherwise.
“Aye. That. Ye’ve got two hours. Mayhap less.”
“What’s the plan?”
“There’s some-what powerful strange aboot you, mon. Be ye serious?”
Neal had lifted an eyebrow. The man’s speech was thick enough to render it a foreign tongue. “I took a spill from my horse. Hit my head.” He lifted a lock of hair from his forehead to display it. Winced as his fingers touched the spot.
“I warned ye that horse was too much fer ye.”
“Yes. Well. Apparently, you weren’t the lone one with that advice. Is that the way to my chamber?”
Neal pointed to the portal Garrick had come through and started walking that direction. His steward fell into step with him.
“Of course na’.”
“I took a nasty spill, Garrick. Didn’t you hear? I seem to have lost a good bit of memory because of it. Most of it...of recent origin.”
“Truly?”
The hope in the man’s voice was grating.
“It comes and goes. So. If that isn’t the direction to my room, what is?”
The man pointed up to the landing. “Chieftain’s rooms are oop there. Where they’ve always been.”
Well, of course the duke would have the most regal path to his chamber. Neal should have figured that out. He selected the staircase on the right, jogged to it, and was halfway up when he noticed Garrick was directly behind him. Neal had stopped. Turned around. Regarded his steward for long moments. He was one step above the man. He could tell the additional height bothered Garrick. That was pleasurable. Neal had been hard-pressed not to show it.
“Why are you following me?”
“I am yer steward, Niall. Ye’ve been away most of yer life. Yer not familiar with our coostoms...so ye said. You’ll be a-needin’ my advice.”
“Oh. Not anymore.”
“What?”
The fellow was taken aback. His head went back along with his shoulders. Neal decided that reaction was even more pleasurable to observe. It took an act of will to hide that emotion, too.
“Tell you what? Why don’t you leave me alone to shower and shave? Change my attire. Grab a bite to eat. And then...we can meet back here in...? How about an hour and a half? How does that sound?”
“Shower?”
Crap. They didn’t have showers, either? Neal was extremely grateful for his position above Garrick. It was easier to look and act condescending.
“Just see that three large buckets of warmed water are delivered to my chamber. Oh! I’d also like breakfast. With coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”
“Ye want yer breakfast delivered? To yer rooms?”
“Yes. I do.”
“But—”
“You seem to possess excellent hearing, Garrick. Comprehension is another matter entirely. Sounds
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