The Mackintosh Bride. Debra Lee Brown

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СКАЧАТЬ shot her a knowing look.

      “Who is Gilchrist?”

      “Gilchrist Mackintosh, Iain’s younger brother. And a handsomer lad ye’ve ne’er seen. Except for my Will, of course.”

      Both of them jumped as a crash of timber sounded from the stable yard. All at once men were shouting over the angry snorts and distressed cries of a horse. Alena moved quickly to the window and looked out.

      A black stallion rampaged through the yard, rearing in anger against a training tether pulled tight around his neck. Duncan, and a man who looked a younger version of him, were trying, without success, to calm the distressed beast.

      She was shocked to see a lad of fourteen or fifteen lurking dangerously close to the rearing steed. Duncan waved him off but the lad would not give ground.

      “Who is that boy, Hetty?”

      “Saints preserve us! That’s Conall Mackintosh, the laird’s youngest brother.”

      The stallion reared again, and the boy inched closer. Without another thought Alena shot from the room, barefoot, raced down the staircase and burst outside. The black reared again. The boy ducked under the steed’s hooves and tried to grab the bridle.

      “Conall!” The voice was Iain’s, but he was nowhere in sight. “Move away, lad!”

      The boy ignored his brother’s command. The stallion bucked as Duncan jerked on the tether. A crowd gathered around them, frightening the beast into greater frenzy. Conall moved in and reached for the bridle.

      She knew the steed would rear.

      “Boy, you’re too close!” She shot forward and grabbed him. Conall stumbled backward, and they both tripped to the ground. For one heart-stopping moment she thought she’d been too late. The stallion crashed to earth, his powerful hooves landing inches from the boy’s head.

      There was no time. She could see in the stallion’s eyes that he would rear again. She scrambled to her feet, unsheathed her dirk and cut the training tether. He was free. In a smooth motion that was second nature to her, she grasped the steed’s mane and pulled herself onto his bare back. A split second later he lurched ahead.

      There was only the one thing she did well, and this was it.

      Without benefit of tether or bridle, she guided the black in a wide circuit around the stable yard. The tensed muscles of his neck relaxed as she stroked his sweat-drenched coat and whispered words of comfort into his ear. In seconds he’d calmed to her voice and touch.

      Duncan scooped Conall from the dirt and bore him safely out of the way. She glanced briefly at the old man and shrugged.

      “Weel, I’ll be damned,” he said, and stroked his silvered beard.

      This was not how she’d intended to start her day.

      She slowed the stallion to a walk. ’Twas then she noticed Iain standing alone at the stable yard gate, the crowd parted around him. She had the distinct impression he was not happy with her actions.

      His face flamed red as an autumn apple. His eyes were live coals. Even at ten paces she could see the tendons tightening in his neck.

      Jesu, what would he have had her do? Stand by helpless? She met his gaze, and what she read there unnerved her far more than had the incident with the stallion. She was barely aware of Duncan helping her down from the horse and leading him away.

      In three steps Iain covered the distance between them and stood glaring down at her, hands fisted at his sides. She forced herself to not move. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face.

      Before she could say anything, he turned abruptly toward his brother Conall who leaned casually against the fence. Iain grabbed him by the collar and near dragged him toward the house. “Hamish! Will! To me. Now!” he bellowed.

      The small crowd that had gathered burst into a cacophony of laughter and general chatter. Words of praise—and chastisement—were shouted in her direction. Aye, she supposed it was stupid of her. Both she and the boy could have been hurt.

      Duncan, along with the other man who had helped him with the stallion, appeared at her side and led her to a bench by the water trough. She was more shook up than she’d first realized. She collapsed on the wooden seat.

      “There, there, lass. Ye did a fine job.” Duncan rested a hand paternally on her shoulder.

      “The boy,” she said. “Is he all right?”

      “Conall? Dinna worry yourself about him. More than likely he’s wishin’ he was back under the black’s hooves.”

      She frowned, and the other man laughed. “Aye,” he said. “Iain’s givin’ him a thrashin’ he’ll no’ soon forget.”

      “He wouldn’t hurt him?” She’d never seen Iain so angry, yet she suspected a goodly portion of his wrath was reserved for her.

      “Weel,” Duncan said, fingering his beard, “Conall may no’ sit much for the next day or two. But nay, lass, he wouldna truly hurt him.”

      “Aye,” the younger man said. “He loves that boy like a son.”

      “When their da was killed,” Duncan said, “’twas Iain who raised the lad, and the other, as well.”

      “Gilchrist, you mean.”

      “Aye. They’re both fine, braw laddies. Thanks to Iain.”

      The younger man knelt beside her. “Are ye all right? Can I draw ye some water from the well?”

      “My thanks, but nay.” His concern touched her. She pressed her hand lightly on his arm. “I’m well.”

      “More afeared o’ the laird than that stallion, I’ll wager.” Duncan’s voice was primed with amusement.

      “Aye, you have that right.”

      “Och, dinna worry, lass. He’ll come ’round. He’s a stubborn one, and as much as I love him he can be dumb as a stone sometimes.” Duncan shot her a meaningful look, but she had no idea what he was trying to tell her.

      More than anything, she wanted to ask him how it was he knew her surname, but she preferred to wait until they were alone. She turned to the younger man. “My name is Alena.”

      “Aye, so I’ve heard. I’m called Gavin.”

      “Gavin,” she repeated.

      “My son.” Duncan beamed a smile and slapped the young man on the back.

      Before she could comment on the resemblance, Hamish appeared, towering over them, a huge grin on his face. “Lady,” he said, “I’m to escort ye back to the house.”

      Iain’s instructions, no doubt. No matter. She was starved and had had enough excitement for one morning. Her conversation with Duncan would have to wait. It seemed whatever he knew about her, he had kept it to himself.

      Or had he?

      She СКАЧАТЬ