Page 95 of My Notorious Highlander

"Since McMurdo and MacBain are still on the loose, I'm not allowing any of the ladies to attend the funeral," Dirk said.

"I'm glad."

"All the men will be heavily armed, except for Reverend MacMahon."

"Is Aiden angry with me for killing his brother?" Torrin asked.

"Nay. He knew someone would have to kill Haldane to stop him."

"What of the MacBains?" Torrin asked. Iain and his men had already told him Gregor MacBain was not among the dead on the beach, but he wondered if Dirk knew anything more about the knave.

"Eight of them died in the skirmish, and the rest fled over the hill. We found where they'd had their horses hidden in the trees and bushes in a small glen. They rode south. We also found Gil there, dead. One of the MacBains must have killed him."

"Haldane's archer?" Torrin asked, recalling how the lad had shot an arrow at him, then run away like a coward while Jessie hung off the cliff.

"Aye."

"I thought they were on the same side. Why would the MacBains kill him?"

"I have no inkling, unless they felt betrayed somehow."

Torrin shook his head. "I don't think I've seen the last of that Gregor MacBain bastard."

∞∞∞

Three days later, Torrin was well enough to venture down to the great hall for the feast Dirk had ordered prepared. The servants had decorated the large room with heather, greenery and sweet-scented wildflowers. But his favorite part was sitting beside Jessie.

Though in horrible pain at times, as well as a bit lightheaded and queasy, Torrin had enjoyed spending time with Jessie during the last three days. Since he had improved quickly, she hadn't spent all night with him again. She'd brought him every meal, but he had insisted on feeding himself.

His men, Iain, Aiden, several of the MacKays, Rebbie, Cyrus, and even Erskine had visited him often. He was certain they'd all assisted in his recovery. Jessie had helped, especially, for each day he grew more and more certain that she loved him, though she hadn't said so again. She didn't need to; the affectionate look in her bright blue eyes said it all, as did her warm and caring touch.

Farther along the high table, Dirk arose from his chair, tapping his knife against his silver goblet of wine, and everyone grew quiet. "We're extremely happy and thankful that Chief MacLeod, Erskine, Marston, Boyce, and Edwin are recovered from their injuries enough to join us in the great hall for supper." He raised his goblet. "Slàinte."

A cheer went up from the three dozen or so people in the great hall and everyone drank to their health.

"I have another announcement," Dirk said, a smile curving his lips. "Lady Isobel and I are greatly pleased to say we will soon be the proud parents of the possible next chief of Clan MacKay." Dirk leaned down and kissed Isobel's cheek.

Another loud cheer went up.

Saints! Torrin hadn't expected that announcement, but he was thrilled for them.

Torrin squeezed Jessie's hand beneath the table. She glanced at him, smiling, but he could see a wee bit of bittersweet sadness in her expression, and she didn't look the least bit surprised. He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping she would believe that one day they could share the same news with both their clans.

He leaned toward her and murmured, "You knew about this, didn't you?"

She nodded.

"And you didn't tell me?"

She shrugged. "Women talk about all sorts of things behind closed doors."

"Ah. I see. Does that mean you've talked about me?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

She grinned. "I'll never tell."

"You have," he accused, teasing. "I know you have."

From the corner of her eyes, she sent him an impish glance.