Page 18 of My Notorious Highlander

Iain shook his head. "So, she is smitten with you already, is she?"

"Not quite, but I'm gaining ground."

"Well, you have naught to worry about from me. I would never try to steal your lady."

"I ken it well."

"Why did you hasten out of Lairg so quickly while I was sleeping off the drink?"

"Well, you had that lovely milkmaid with you, and I figured you had better things to do than watch me court a lady."

"Nay, I do not. I sent Mary back to her cows. I'm certain this will be grand entertainment, especially since both your offers of marriage to Lady Jessie have been refused."

Torrin narrowed his eyes. "Laugh at my misery if you will, but I'm determined in this. She will agree to marry me before this is over."

Iain grinned. "I've never seen you so smitten with a lass."

"Nay, you haven't."

"Well, when do I get to meet her?"

∞∞∞

Jessie stood near the stairwell to the kitchen, overseeing the male servants setting up the tables, as everyone gathered into the great hall for supper. Torrin and his newly arrived friend entered from the bailey and strode toward her. Torrin's friend was only an inch or two shorter than him and built like a trained warrior, although she remembered Torrin had said he was Iain Stewart, heir to the Stewart chiefdom. He wore a belted plaid of a weave she'd never seen before.

Torrin's intense green gaze lit on her. "Iain, I'd like for you to meet Lady Jessie MacKay."

"'Tis an honor to meet you, sir." Jessie curtsied.

"The pleasure is all mine." Iain grinned, his dark blue eyes gleaming with humor. He kissed her hand. "I beg of you, m'lady, please do not break this man's heart." He slapped Torrin on the shoulder. "He's been in a lovesick stupor for months."

She sucked in a surprised breath, heat racing over her, head to toe. Lovesick? Surely he exaggerated.

"Bastard," Torrin said under his breath.

Iain snorted with laughter.

"Might I escort you to the high table, Lady Jessie," Torrin asked, offering his elbow. "'Twill be best if you sit far away from Iain."

She took his arm, hoping her fiery blush would subside soon, but her fingers pressing into the hard muscles of Torrin's arm, just above his elbow, ignited another type of heat within her. She was not yet accustomed to touching him, and she found that every time she did, her body reacted in disturbing ways.

"You would deprive me of this lovely lady's company?" Iain protested behind them as they proceeded to the dais.

She was not used to so many men's attention or the compliments they doled out, especially in the last three years. The disaster with MacBain had made her shy away from men. But now, she found she liked the attention, though it made her uncomfortable.

Torrin pulled out a chair for Jessie, then took the one beside her.

"You cannot get rid of me that easily," Iain said, sitting beside Torrin.

"Sometimes he reminds me of a leech," Torrin murmured aside to her.

She gave a slight smile but grew uncomfortable beneath his perceptive gaze. "I thank you for preventing any bloodshed today. I think MacBain went mad for a few minutes."

"Indeed, he was possessed of a battle rage." Torrin shrugged. "Truth is… he wants rid of me in the worst way so he can get to you, but I intend to protect you from the knave."

She didn't truly want Torrin acting as her shield, but she was grateful to him. Still, she could've handled MacBain on her own. "I feared the practice would get out of hand." She glanced down at the low table where MacBain sat with his men—unusual, for he usually sat at the high table as was his right by rank. He gave Torrin an evil look which concerned her greatly.

Supper was served. All the men were especially boisterous with their outlandish stories mixed with plenty of drink. Two men, a MacKay and a MacLeod, acted out the skirmish that had happened earlier, except they used the wee lads' wooden swords and added a more dramatic and entertaining finale. Laughter abounded.