Page 5
“Me Laird.” Callum bowed deeply. “I trust ye slept well?”
“Get out of me way,” Evander huffed.
His man-at-arms wouldn’t be deterred by his sudden flash of anger. Younger than Evander, a quick blade to his crushing strength, he’d appeared years ago. He’d told Evander only that Malcolm worried for him, and after years of traveling, he was used to Evander’s moods.
“I only ask because there’s a pillow’s worth of feathers on the landing, and Meg the innkeeper’s wife is asking who will pay for it.” He pushed off the wall and fell into step with Evander, grinning. “And because yer bride just came down the stairs wearing yer plaid and the face of a woman who’s seen the devil.”
“Nothing happened. Why do ye insist on telling me that something has happened when it hasnae?”
“Aye, that’s what the feathers said,” Callum chuckled. “The entire room is evidence that something did happen, me Laird. Everyone in the inn and within a five-mile radius kens that.”
“Callum.” Evander stopped on the stairs and turned, and something in his voice made the younger man’s grin falter. “Ye ken I was only protecting the poor lass. Two of Ranald’s men had her cornered at the fire. I put me ring on her finger and said she was mine, so I wouldnae have to gut them in front of the whole taproom. That’s all it was. What else was I supposed to do? Let them hurt her?”
“If I recall, the lass did kick one of them between the legs rather hard. He doubled over, practically screeching in pain.”
The memory made Evander almost chuckle, but he wasn’t going to lose face here.
“Aye, but how long do ye think she would have been able to hold off those men?” Evander asked with a raised eyebrow. “I doubt it would have been long enough.”
“Well…” Callum scratched his jaw, all innocence. “Ye’ll forgive me if ‘marrying her’ to protect her seemed a wee bit extreme. Excuse me if I thought ye might want something more from her than a quiet evening. In the past, ye have never stopped at a quiet night. Ye’ve always done more than that.”
“Relax, Callum. I just wasnae in the mood to kill anyone.”
“Pity. Remember the raiders at Glen Orchy? Ye took their heads clean off their shoulders. Glorious, it was.”
Evander shifted. “I offered them the road first. They wouldnae take it.”
They looked at each other. Then Callum laughed, and after a moment, Evander did too, low and reluctant, and the ache in his head eased a fraction.
“Where has she wandered off to?”
Callum lifted an eyebrow. “Why do ye ask if ye arenae interested in the lass?”
“Are ye questioning me?”
He faltered. “Nay, me Laird, I’m nae, but can ye blame me for asking?”
“I can blame ye for a great many things,” Evander said. “Where did she go?”
“East road. Fast.” Callum leaned against the wall. “Ye ken, most men who marry a lass in a taproom at least wait to see if she’s still there in the morning. Ye’re the first man I’ve met who let a lass steal his plaid and then asked after her.”
“I didnae let her.”
“She’s wearing it, is she nae?”
“I’d assume so. I was a touch distracted after she threw a lantern at me head.”
“Aye, Meg told me about it. She’s added it to the bill.” Callum grinned. “So, yer bride knocks ye down, robs ye, and runs. And ye’re standing here asking me which road she took. Tell me again how ye’re nae interested?”
“I’m interested in nae having a lass ride about the Highlands in MacArthur colors telling folk I’m a brute.”
“Mm.”
“That’s all.”
“Of course, me Laird.”
“Callum.”
