Page 4 of The Eagle

“I am Liam Maclean, second-born son,” the man said in greeting. “My father introduced me to yer other brothers before ye entered.”

The man then looked toward the entrance from which Stuart had come, seeming to calculate why he’d arrived so much later.

He blew out a breath. “How far is the local village?”

“A bit over an hour’s ride.”

A young maid appeared with a large tray. She walked to the head table, gaze downcast and placed a tankard in front of him.

Stuart realized who it was. “Cait, did ye and yer mother make a good rabbit stew?”

Cait’s gaze lifted, and her lips curved. “Aye, Mister Stuart. She asked that I thank ye for the second rabbit.”

“Is a rabbit all it takes to spend time with ye?” Liam asked while leering at Cait, who’s eyes widened and cheeks turned a crimson red.

She hastily placed the food down before them and dashed away.

“That comment was unacceptable,” Stuart spoke in a low menacing tone. “Ye will not disrespect the women while in my home.”

“’Tis but a mere maid,” Liam said with an eye roll. “No one of importance.”

“I will not repeat myself.” Stuart took a long draw from his tankard, to keep from saying or doing something he’d regret.

Across the room, Cait’s half brother, Torac, watched with interest. The warrior’s gaze moved from the high board to his sister.

Just then Darach spoke to the laird in a louder tone, so that everyone could hear. “I insist that ye and yer men remain for the night. It will soon be too late to return across the sea to yer home.”

“I accept on behalf of myself, my son, and my men,” the Maclean replied. “As a matter of fact, I beg of yer hospitality for two or three more days. I have many things to discuss with ye.”

Blank of expression, Darach nodded his agreement.

It was much later that the lairds adjourned to Darach’s study. Stuart, Liam, and Duncan were asked to join them. Gideon, the youngest, as well as Artair would remain in the great hall to ensure order between their guards and the Maclean’s, who seemed to take an instant dislike of each other.

Once in the study, the men were poured whiskey and they settled into comfortable chairs.

The Maclean inventoried the room, not bothering to hide his curiosity. “I met yer father only the one time he came to visit me. I never felt the need to cross the water to come here. I find sea travel most discomfiting.”

Despite the fact he’d not been aware their father had ever visited a man so disliked by all the surrounding lairds, Darach managed to hide his surprise.

“Not everyone is fond of water travel,” Darach said with an accommodating tone. “We venture out a great deal by bìrlinn. I do not mind it.”

“Let us get to the reason for my visit,” Laird Maclean said suddenly. A tactic to throw off whoever he spoke to, by abruptly changing the subject. “All of the traitors must be returned to me immediately to be punished. I will accept nothing less.”

Darach sipped his whiskey slowly with his gaze averted and remained silent. A trait that often discomfited whomever he opposed. It was humorous when the Maclean and Liam exchanged confused looks as the long stretch of silence continued.

Use to Darach’s processing of information, Stuart downed his drink and rose to pour another. “I do believe the weather should be favorable to traveling for the next few days,” he said to the Maclean. “However, I agree with ye. I too prefer to travel by land rather than water.”

The Maclean didn’t reply. Instead, he looked at Darach, who looked to Stuart, glass still in hand.

“What…” the Maclean began, but stopped talking when Darach gave him a pointed look.

His brother let out a breath. “No.”

Once again, the Maclean and Liam exchanged puzzled looks.

It was Liam who spoke next. “What do ye mean no? It is not a request Laird Ross. My father has rights over those men.”

“Does he?” Darach asked with a flat tone. One that Stuart knew meant his brother thoroughly disliked the men he spoke to.