Robby MacDouglas turned a hostile eye to Braden. “I don’t know you.”
The silence was deafening.
Braden nodded at Robby MacDouglas—the man who had sworn to see him and his brothers in their graves.
Braden couldn’t believe he was doing this. There must be a special corner of hell for a fool such as he. He only prayed it would still be a few more years before he learned whether or not that was true.
In the meantime, Braden had to find some way to end this stand-off before the three of them were slaughtered by the men or cabbaged by the women.
“Nay,” Braden said in a good natured tone, hoping to allay the laird’s fear and mistrust. “You don’t. I’m just a traveling bard, but I’m thinking I might be able to help you with this matter.”
Braden resisted the urge to snort at himself.
How the hell did he keep getting himself into this?
Sweet Mother Mary, can’t you ever keep your mouth closed for a minute? Why must you always get yourself right into the thick of any fight?
Robby’s eyes reflected his own doubts over Braden’s ability to handle the situation. “Can you now, lad? And how do you figure that?”
“I’d like for me and my brothers to try and talk to the women.”
The men broke out into laughter and several of them openly jeered.
Turning to face him, the man in honey raked Braden with a disbelieving stare. “Want to look like me, do you?”
Braden shrugged. “There are worse things than to be covered in than honey, and I’ve had harder things thrown at me than a cabbage. But I think my brothers and I might be able to get the women to listen to reason.”
Laughing, Robby MacDouglas put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “If you’re of a mind to try, then I’m of a mood to see you harmed. Go ahead, lad, and God’s favor upon you.”
Braden nodded, then gathered Maggie and Sin.
“All right,” Braden whispered to Maggie as they walked slowly toward the castle gate. “This is your one chance. You have to make the Lady MacDouglas listen to you.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
He exchanged a determined look with Sin. “Then, I hope you’ll forgive me for what I’m going to have to do to end this.”
The stricken look on her face tore at his heart. He didn’t want to add strife to her worries, but they had come too far to go back. She had to succeed.
As they drew near the door, a cabbage came whirling straight at Braden’s head. He barely had time to dodge it.
The old woman who had hurled it, shouted down from her place on the wall, “We done told you men we’d?—”
“Hold!”
Maggie recognized the voice of Ceana MacDouglas.
The lairdess peered down at them for what seemed like an eternity. After a long minute, the lairdess left the wall and Maggie could hear the clip-clopping of her shoes as she descended the wooden steps on the other side.
A few seconds later, a lock rattled and rasped, then the small door to the side of the main gate opened to show the head of a beautiful woman only a year or two older than Maggie. The MacDouglas lairdess looked like an angel with her golden hair braided and wrapped about her head. The black and blue plaid she wore brought out the creaminess of her pale skin and made her blue eyes glow.
“Maggie, is that you?” Ceana MacDouglas asked.
“Aye. May we come in?”
“Of course.” Ceana stepped back into the safety of the bailey.
A woman of about two score, holding her broom like a sword, opened the door only enough to admit Maggie and her escorts, and as soon as they were through it, she slammed it shut and locked it.
