Braden’s frown deepened. “Hiding from what?”
“From us wicked, lustful men.”
Braden stared blankly at Ewan as the full, horrific impact of the words dawned on him. “Surely, you jest.” He looked to Lochlan for verification. “He jests?”
“Nay,” Lochlan sighed. “He’s telling the truth. It seems the women have decided that I must put a stop to the feud against the MacDouglas or else they’ll serve us no more.”
“In any capacity,” Ewan added for effect.
Braden’s face actually paled as he stepped away from Ewan. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Sin’s cloak. “By Satan’s hairy toes, Sin, it appears I’ve died and gone to hell.”
Sin snorted. “Guess again, little brother. ‘Tis too cold here to be hell.”
Braden shook his head in disbelief, then a dark look came over him as he faced Lochlan. “All right, laird, what did you do to the women to get them so riled?”
“Me?” Lochlan asked, stunned by Braden’s assumption that he had done anything to the women. “I did nothing. Why, I’ve tried everything I can think of to make them see reason. I’ve threatened and cajoled. Hell, I even tried seducing Maggie myself, but?—”
Braden’s derisive snort interrupted him. “Well, there’s half your problem. I can assure you, ordering a woman to lift her skirts isn’t the way to get her into your bed.”
Lochlan felt his jaw drop in indignation. “I beg your pardon, I have more subtlety than that.”
“The devil you do. You forget, I’ve seen your clumsy attempts at seduction firsthand.”
“Clumsy? Why, I’ve had more women than you, you whelp.”
Braden cocked one arrogant, taunting brow.
“Well,” Lochlan conceded after reflecting on the matter for a second. He doubted if anyone in history could claim more women than Braden. “Maybe not more than you, but certainly more than Ewan.”
Braden scoffed. “That’s not saying much. My left boot has had more women than Ewan.”
“Hey, now!” Ewan bristled over being the brunt of their jests. “You’d best be keeping your insults directed at the brother who tolerates you. I’ll not take kindly to such.”
Ignoring him, Braden draped an arm over Lochlan’s shoulders and pulled him close, as if about to impart some great secret. “Now, listen to me, my dearest brother who tolerates me. You are laird to a powerful clan. ‘Tis not your feeble attempts that seduce women so much as your title and fair face.”
“My what?” Lochlan asked, offended by his condescending tone.
“‘Tis true,” Braden continued. “There’s not a woman among them who wouldn’t love to lay claim to a night with a laird. Is that not right, Sin?”
“Why ask me? Am I a woman to know these things?”
“Well...” Braden paused.
Whatever thought he had, he must have reconsidered for he quickly returned to Lochlan. “As I was saying, your title and face are all you need.”
“Aye, well, neither impressed Maggie. She dispatched me in record time. At this point, she’s left me with no alternative that I can see. If they aren’t out by midday tomorrow, I’m leading a raiding party against the kirk and dragging them out by force.”
Braden released him. “You don’t want to be doing that. They’re women, Lochlan. Our women.”
“You think I don’t know that? Our mother is in there with them. But what choice do I have?”
A speculative look came over Braden’s face. Lochlan could almost see the workings of his mind. Good, Braden was always a mastermind when it came to dealing with women.
“I can think of another choice …” Braden gave him a cocky grin. “What say you, I talk sense into the wench and get the women back where they belong—in the kitchens and in our beds.”
Lochlan considered it. If Braden could end this peacefully, then it was certainly worth a try. He didn’t like the thought of hurting one of their women any more than Braden did.
Perhaps his brother could succeed where he had failed. Braden had always been good at settling hot-blooded issues peacefully.
