Rebbie nodded, handing the drink to his friend. "I don't ken what my father will think of that, but I agree. Her safety is my primary concern."
"I can see that.Slàinte." Lachlan raised his glass. "To lovely ladies and rousing adventures."
Rebbie raised his glass. "Slàinte." He preferred not to comment on any ladies.
After he sipped the whisky, a devilish glint sparkled in Lachlan's amber-brown eyes. "And I'm glad you've found a woman worth risking life and limb for."
Here it was. Rebbie rolled his eyes, knowing full well Lachlan wanted to needle the hell out of him. He supposed he deserved it, given what he'd put Lachlan through the year before, aggravating him incessantly about his wee newwifey.
"'Tisobvious you care for her greatly," Lachlan went on. "Don't bother denying it."
Rebbie shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "I'm not denying anything. Nor am I admitting anything."
Lachlan chuckled. "How sweet and cozy to find the two of you on an outing on the moor. I was surprised I didn't see a luncheon basket strapped upon Devil's back."
Rebbie lifted a brow, determined to ignore that comment. "She enjoys the outdoors and nature."
"Oh, aye. I could see that. But then I realized it wasn't just an outing on the moor. You hadn't been in that spot when first I looked. You must have emerged from the wood."
Rebbie narrowed his eyes.
"And then there was that dried leaf upon your plaid and two more on her cloak." Lachlan's toothy grin annoyed him.
"She had to relieve herself in the wood."
"Uh-huh," Lachlan said doubtfully. "I'm certain you gave her an altogether different sort of relief."
Rebbie shrugged, knowing any pretense was pointless around Lachlan. His friend was no idiot and he easily saw throughRebbie'slie. "What if I did?"
"I applaud you." Lachlan chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. "I would think something grievously wrong with you if you didn't. So… what are you going to do about Barclay's daughter?"
"'Tissimple. I'll break the contract and pay him whatever he requires." He downed the shot of whisky, enjoying the burn in his throat.
"Why didn't you do that right after you first arrived atDraughon?"
Rebbie set the glass aside, shoved a hand through his hair and approached the fireplace. "I'm not answering that," he muttered.
"Weeeelll, you don't have to, my friend, because I've figured it out already." The mirth in Lachlan's voice grated uponRebbie'staut nerves. "You wanted to be close to Calla. And you knew if Barclay and his daughter left, so would she."
"Your mind is as sharp as yoursgiandubh," Rebbie said dryly.
Lachlan snickered, but then after a moment, he sobered. "And have you decided to marry her?"
"Nay," Rebbie said quickly. Perhaps too quickly.'Slud.He hated the wordmarry. He'd had an aversion to it for near the whole of his life.'Twasnot something one simply overcame in a matter of a day or two. True, he loved spending time with Calla, making love to her, talking to her. But he still didn't know her well enough. Those secrets lurking in her eyes concerned him, and until he knew everything about her, he couldn't think about any sort of commitment.
"I'm certain the very idea would give my father an apoplexy." Rebbie had seen the stern look of disapproval his father had cast his and Calla's way when they'd met on the moor. His father wanted him to marry a young virgin, fresh from a duke or earl's nursery. But 'twas certainly not what Rebbie wanted. He wanted a woman, not a girl.
"Does it truly matter what he thinks?" Lachlan asked.
"Nay, of course not.'Tissimply… my gut tells me she's hiding something."
"I see." Lachlan frowned. "I hope 'tis not something terrible like Angelique was hiding from me."
"Aye, well, I can't guess what it is. Don't tell anyone but, before his death, her husband ran up a large gambling debt to Claybourne. Now, he's demanding that she repay it, either in silver or on her back. The bastard even claims her husband wageredher."
Lachlan muttered a curse.
"I'm going to pay off the debt and the whoreson had best leave her be." Rebbie ground his teeth.
