Bride of Lochbarr. Margaret Moore

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a bad business, right enough,” his father agreed.

      “Can you not put a stop to it? You could go to the king. You’re a thane and a chieftain. Alexander ought to listen to you.”

      “Sir Nicholas has Alexander’s favor, so any objections will have to be made carefully,” his father replied.

      “Then Adair’d better stay at home if you decide to go,” Cormag said. “Or he’ll likely lose his temper with the king.”

      “Shut it, Cormag,” Adair warned.

      “If you really want to prevent the marriage, why not seduce the woman, Adair?” Cormag suggested, his voice full of scornful mockery. “Women are helpless to resist your pretty face and braw body, are they not?” He grinned and raised his voice, imitating a woman. “Oh, Adair, kiss me! Hold me! Raise my skirts and—”

      Adair was off his horse and dragging Cormag from his before any of the other men had time to blink.

      “Father!” Lachlann cried as the two Scots wrestled in the mud of the narrow path, all bare legs and plaids and curses. “Stop them before they kill each other.”

      “They’ll not do that,” Seamus said as he continued to ride for home. “Let them fight awhile. Then maybe we’ll have some peace in our hall tonight. Those Normans weary me something fierce, and I need to think.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      FIVE DAYS LATER, Neas fairly danced with impatience to be free of the confines of his stall.

      Motes of dust and bits of chaff from the hay swirled in the air and about the beams of the stables. The scent of thatch mingled with dung and the leather of bridles, saddles and harnesses. The other horses munched contentedly, or shifted and refooted, some more lively than others because one of their number was going to be leaving as soon as its master could saddle it.

      The stable door opened, throwing a shaft of sunlight into the dimmer building.

      “Adair!” Lachlann exclaimed as he paused on the threshold. “I wasn’t expecting to find you here. I thought you’d be on patrol with Roban and the others.”

      Partly hidden by Neas, Adair silently cursed. He’d hoped to ride out without having to explain where he was going, or why. “I was, then decided Neas needs more of a run.” He threw a fleece over his horse’s back. “It’s been too long since he had a good gallop.”

      “Aye. I can’t remember a wetter summer.” Lachlann strolled closer, studying his brother’s face as Adair heaved the saddle onto Neas. “You’re healing, I see.”

      “Thanks to that awful stinking stuff Beitiris makes. Smells worse than a bog, but it works.” Adair bent down to buckle the girth. “How’s Cormag?”

      “His eye’s a charming motley of purple and green and yellow, but he can open it now,” Lachlann answered. “He’s limping yet, though.”

      Lachlann leaned back against the upright beam at the end of the stall. “Cormag’s still some furious. Do you think it’s wise to fight with him so much and so openly?”

      “What are you getting at?”

      “He’s never liked you, Adair.”

      “Nor I, him. What of that?”

      Lachlann patted Neas’s muzzle. The beast shivered and pranced, so Lachlann withdrew his hand. “It’s not good to have enemies within the clan.”

      Lachlann worried about Cormag too much. “He’s my cousin and clansman. He’ll stand with me in a battle.”

      “I hope you’re right.”

      “If he doesn’t, you and I both know the fate of a man who’ll betray his clan.”

      “So you’re not worried about Cormag at all?” Lachlann asked, his gaze searching Adair’s face as if he doubted Adair could really have so little concern for what Cormag thought of him.

      “Cormag’s our cousin. That’s what’ll matter when it comes to a battle.”

      “Then something else is troubling you.”

      “That damned Norman and his castle,” Adair readily admitted. “He shouldn’t be here, and that castle’ll be hard to capture if the king changes his mind and wants to rid our land of those foreigners. And now he’s allying himself with Mac Glogan, who’d sell his own mother for the right price.”

      “Aye, ’tis troubling. No wonder you’ve been so quiet lately.”

      Adair forced a laugh as he started to lead Neas around Lachlann. “You’re the one always saying I ought to think more.”

      And he had been thinking, ever since he’d returned from Dunkeathe, about the marriage and the lady and the escape he’d prevented.

      “So, where will you be riding?” Lachlann asked as he followed Adair and Neas into the yard.

      “The south meadow,” Adair answered, not completely lying, for he would indeed be heading south on this fine day. The sky was blue enough to make you think you’d never seen blue like it before. Not a cloud was overhead, nor was there even a hint of mist on the hills around the loch.

      “Care for some company on your ride?”

      “Not today, Lachlann. I’m not in a mood to talk.”

      Lachlann put his hand on Adair’s arm to detain him. “It’s too dangerous,” he said in a low and confidential whisper.

      “Since when has riding been dangerous for me?” Adair demanded with a raised brow.

      “It’s not the riding,” Lachlann answered, still in that same low, cautious tone. “It’s the woman. You can fool Father and the others, but you can’t fool me, Adair. You want Lady Marianne—I could see it in your eyes the moment you turned around and saw her.”

      Adair grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him back into the stable, taking Neas with them. Once they were inside and the door closed behind Neas, Adair tossed his horse’s reins over a stall wall and faced Lachlann. “I’m not some lascivious lout.”

      Lachlann didn’t back down. “I saw the look on your face when we rode away from Beauxville—”

      “Dunkeathe.”

      His brother shrugged. “Their fortress.”

      “It’s their fortress and their alliance with Mac Glogan that’s got me worried,” Adair declared. “I’m worried the Normans are marrying into clans because they’re trying to take Scotland over from within, like a plague infecting a village.”

      “I don’t believe that’s all there is to this.”

      Before Adair could refute his charge, Lachlann’s expression softened. “It’s not just lust you feel for her, Adair. I know that. Ever since Cellach was killed you’ve had a weakness for a woman in trouble and Lady Marianne’s betrothed СКАЧАТЬ