Page 65 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

“We’re about to break into that good whisky ye brought with ye from the seaside,” his cousin said, slinging an arm over Cameron’s shoulders and completely breaking the spell. He already smelled strongly of the scotch they’d been sipping the entire evening. Lachlan looked at Margo, something genuinely apologetic in his gaze. “I will be stealin’ yer husband, me Lady.”

“It is his ceilidh, too,” Margo said, sounding just as reluctant to move away as Cameron was.

“I must thank ye for the dance,” Cameron said, knowing that if he didn’t accept Lachlan’s invitation, he might end up dragging Margo away. Taking hold of her hand, memorizing the feel of her soft skin between his callused fingertips, he said, “Ye were enchantin’.”

“As were you,” Margo whispered back, holding his gaze for a beat longer. “Even more than I imagined you would be.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

“Ye still look much too serious for bein’ at a celebration,” Lachlan said, the liquor seeming to make him glow. He sidled up to Cameron, two crystal mugs with several inches of whisky in each. “Ye’re cross with me for pullin’ ye off the dance floor.”

“Nay, I’m nae cross with ye,” Cameron said, accepting the cup when his cousin offered it. “Ye ken I am nae the kind of man that enjoys ceilidhs.”

“That was why I invited ye here,” Lachlan said, gesturing at the small selection of men gathered in the Solar. “But now that we are here, I’m realizin’ that I’ve never seen ye look happier than when ye were dancin’ with Margo.”

Cameron just grunted, taking a long drink from his cup. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss his feelings, certainly not in a room full of his allies. For a brief moment, he met his cousin’s eyes. Then, slowly, Cameron dragged his gaze over the gathering.

It was enough to dismiss Lachlan, sending him on his way to continue socializing. The evening was winding down, the conversations becoming quieter. There was much less mingling now. Out of politeness, Cameron would stay for another quarter of an hour.

The temptation of the door connecting their rooms was so strong that it was calling to him even now. He wanted to test the handle, find out whether she had locked him out or had made up her mind to welcome him in. It felt as if nothing he did could combat the restlessness.

Putting his glass on a low table, Cameron positioned himself halfway to the door. Tucked against the wall, he observed the juxtaposition of the raucous laughter and hushed strategy discussions. Even if he did not wish to be here, he could not deny that the gathering had been positive not only for morale, but for the alliances he had fought so hard to forge.

I suppose I owe Marian genuine thanks.

Before he could get lost in his thoughts, a servant approached him. He was a young boy, seemingly not quite sure of himself in his current position. After Cameron nodded, indicating he was ready to hear the servant speak, the boy cleared his throat.

“A representative has arrived from England,” he said, the words making Cameron stand up straighter. The slight haze the alcohol had layered over his consciousness burned away like fog in the early morning sun. “He said he was carrying documents regarding your land.”

Margo’s mother’s inheritance? The land that is meant to be mine?

“I see,” Cameron said, his eyes narrowing.

He knew that Lachlan would never knowingly welcome Lord Abbott under his roof. Though Cameron had not shared the intimate details of their arrangement, he had not hidden the fact that Lord Abbot was conniving. That, coupled with the time of evening, sat wrong on his very spirit.

“He is waiting for you in the meeting room,” the servant said, seeming to sense Cameron’s suspicion.

“I will meet him,” Cameron said, already walking toward the door. His need to know who had come and for what reason overrode any trepidation he had. “Thank ye for informin’ me.”

If Lord Abbott has truly come from England, he must believe he has found a way to get out of our agreement.

His hands tightened at his sides as he easily navigated Castle Carrick. If it weren’t for how badly his clan needed the money, he would stop fighting Lord Abbott’s impossible stipulations. Margo was worth more than any amount of gold.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to fund repairs and feed his people when the storms decimated their crops.

When Cameron stepped into the room, he was not sure if he was disappointed or relieved that rather than Lord Abbott himself, a solicitor was standing by the fire. He turned his head slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. It was not until the door closed behind Cameron that he spoke.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Laird MacLeod.” He stepped away from the hearth, extending a hand to Cameron. “I am Nicolas. I was sent here by Lord Abbott to discuss some new documents that have come to light.”

Cameron stared at the man’s outstretched hand, waiting until his fingers twitched uncomfortably to shake it. He could not tell whether Nicolas was intimidated or naturally squirrely. It did not matter either way. Men like him were weak, hiding under a veneer of social politeness.

That is nae how the Highlands work.

“What is it that you’ve brought me, then?” Cameron said, practically crushing the man’s hand before letting go. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down the line of his nose at Nicolas.

The solicitor blinked once and took a deep breath as if to prepare himself. Then, he said, “Since the agreement was made, additional properties and assets belonging to the late Lady Abbott have been discovered.” Walking over to the desk, he continued, “I have come with deeds, as well as a newly revised contract.”

Cameron extended his hand, deciding against speaking until he had deduced what Lord Abbott was after. When Nicolas passed the stack of parchment, Cameron began reading through the convoluted language. It was obvious that Lord Abbott was attempting to confuse him, even if he was not physically present.