digging at the floor with the toe of her slipper. “I don’t know what
it is Ma, he just . . .” She looked away, avoided her mother’s eyes. “He just
frightens me so.”
Fiona
frowned, “He leaves in the morn. Can you hold your temper that long?”
“In
the morn?”
“Aye.”
Maggie
studied the man who had caused her to misbehave. “For tonight?”
“Aye.”
“That
I can do, Ma, for tonight. But it would be best if we keep apart.“Maggie.”
Fiona touched her daughter’s face. “You say he frightens you. I’ve never known
you to be frightened. Ever. And it can’t be the size of him, for you know
enough of grand men.”
“He’s
a great beast of a man, Ma.”
“He’s
not so much grander than your da or Jamie.”
“But
he’s so…” Maggie fought to explain what she’d yet to understand. “He makes me
feel peculiar, Ma. He makes my insides tumble about something fierce. I think
he’s got the power of spirits so they jump and dance inside of me when he's close.
I dinna’ like it. I want him to leave us.”
Mother
looked to daughter, as though for the first time in a long while, and was
startled by what she saw. With a shake of her head came laughter, light and
loving as a joyful embrace. At the same time, tears filled her eyes. It made no
sense to Maggie. No sense at all.
“Ah,
daughter mine,” once more, she gave a quick, hearty hug. “A day will come when
you’ll be wishing for just that sort of feeling.”
“Never.”
“Oh,
aye,” her mother laughed again, as she pushed Maggie toward the kitchens to
oversee the last of the preparations. “And I’ve a mind to sit him right beside
you, so you can find out what it is I’m speaking of.”
“You
wouldn’t, Ma! You wouldn’t do that to me, would you now?”
“Oh,
aye, I would.” Fiona chuckled. “Just as soon as I speak to your da.” She shoved
Maggie off as she turned back to the great room.
CHAPTER 6 - THE PLEA
To
be disregarded, fresh on the heels of Hamish’s defection, was no aide to
Maggie’s temper. Yet there she sat, her brother Nigel on her left, reaching
around her, grabbing the notice of the man to her right, as though Maggie were
no more than the chair she sat in.
Recently
returned from battle, in high demand or not, the Bold could try to speak with
her. Unless the taint of Hamish’s rejection had put him off.
The
problem was, as much as she wanted to have nothing to do with the Bold, she
wanted to have everything to do with him. He had awakened something inside of
her, something deep and dark and secret. Her senses buzzed with his nearness.
He
even smelled good.
Damn
the man, anyway. Coming here, catching her, saying she was just rrrrright and
making her ma believe he was there for Maggie, herself, when it most certainly
was not true. Or, if it was, then he had changed his mind. Men were, after all,
a fickle lot.
“You’re
scowling again, Maggie MacBede.”
She
dropped her knife, choked on a bite of meat. Talorc slapped her on the back.
“Am
I?” Too flustered to be coy, she challenged him. “And how would you be knowing
when I do or do not scowl?”
Before
Talorc could respond, Nigel reached past Maggie, to grab his arm.
“Hey
man, look at that, will ya’?” He gestured to a lower table where a MacBede and
a MacKay clenched fists, elbows set squarely on the table.
Maggie
shoved at her brother's beefy arm.
“What
are ya’ doin’ Maggie?” Nigel scowled. “I’m wanting to show the Bold how
Conegell is bettering Domnall at the arm!”
“And
I’ll be getting the better of your arm if you don’t stop shoving it in my
face.”
Talorc's
bark of laughter reminded her that she was not acting the lady. It didn't help
when Nigel snorted. “You know, Laird MacKay, if you take her, she’ll be a thorn
in your side.”
“He’ll
not be taking me though, will he Nigel. You’ll be stuck with me to plague you
forever more.” Nigel slunk back
it is Ma, he just . . .” She looked away, avoided her mother’s eyes. “He just
frightens me so.”
Fiona
frowned, “He leaves in the morn. Can you hold your temper that long?”
“In
the morn?”
“Aye.”
Maggie
studied the man who had caused her to misbehave. “For tonight?”
“Aye.”
“That
I can do, Ma, for tonight. But it would be best if we keep apart.“Maggie.”
Fiona touched her daughter’s face. “You say he frightens you. I’ve never known
you to be frightened. Ever. And it can’t be the size of him, for you know
enough of grand men.”
“He’s
a great beast of a man, Ma.”
“He’s
not so much grander than your da or Jamie.”
“But
he’s so…” Maggie fought to explain what she’d yet to understand. “He makes me
feel peculiar, Ma. He makes my insides tumble about something fierce. I think
he’s got the power of spirits so they jump and dance inside of me when he's close.
I dinna’ like it. I want him to leave us.”
Mother
looked to daughter, as though for the first time in a long while, and was
startled by what she saw. With a shake of her head came laughter, light and
loving as a joyful embrace. At the same time, tears filled her eyes. It made no
sense to Maggie. No sense at all.
“Ah,
daughter mine,” once more, she gave a quick, hearty hug. “A day will come when
you’ll be wishing for just that sort of feeling.”
“Never.”
“Oh,
aye,” her mother laughed again, as she pushed Maggie toward the kitchens to
oversee the last of the preparations. “And I’ve a mind to sit him right beside
you, so you can find out what it is I’m speaking of.”
“You
wouldn’t, Ma! You wouldn’t do that to me, would you now?”
“Oh,
aye, I would.” Fiona chuckled. “Just as soon as I speak to your da.” She shoved
Maggie off as she turned back to the great room.
CHAPTER 6 - THE PLEA
To
be disregarded, fresh on the heels of Hamish’s defection, was no aide to
Maggie’s temper. Yet there she sat, her brother Nigel on her left, reaching
around her, grabbing the notice of the man to her right, as though Maggie were
no more than the chair she sat in.
Recently
returned from battle, in high demand or not, the Bold could try to speak with
her. Unless the taint of Hamish’s rejection had put him off.
The
problem was, as much as she wanted to have nothing to do with the Bold, she
wanted to have everything to do with him. He had awakened something inside of
her, something deep and dark and secret. Her senses buzzed with his nearness.
He
even smelled good.
Damn
the man, anyway. Coming here, catching her, saying she was just rrrrright and
making her ma believe he was there for Maggie, herself, when it most certainly
was not true. Or, if it was, then he had changed his mind. Men were, after all,
a fickle lot.
“You’re
scowling again, Maggie MacBede.”
She
dropped her knife, choked on a bite of meat. Talorc slapped her on the back.
“Am
I?” Too flustered to be coy, she challenged him. “And how would you be knowing
when I do or do not scowl?”
Before
Talorc could respond, Nigel reached past Maggie, to grab his arm.
“Hey
man, look at that, will ya’?” He gestured to a lower table where a MacBede and
a MacKay clenched fists, elbows set squarely on the table.
Maggie
shoved at her brother's beefy arm.
“What
are ya’ doin’ Maggie?” Nigel scowled. “I’m wanting to show the Bold how
Conegell is bettering Domnall at the arm!”
“And
I’ll be getting the better of your arm if you don’t stop shoving it in my
face.”
Talorc's
bark of laughter reminded her that she was not acting the lady. It didn't help
when Nigel snorted. “You know, Laird MacKay, if you take her, she’ll be a thorn
in your side.”
“He’ll
not be taking me though, will he Nigel. You’ll be stuck with me to plague you
forever more.” Nigel slunk back
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