the unconquerable Sutherland MacCoinnich’s heart?”
His friend’s insinuation grated on his nerves. He waved it away like clearing smoke. “Ye ken as well as I how much I admire a strong woman. Lady Sorcha isna the sort a man flirts with to get his way.” He wasn’t about to discuss his fears regarding Sorcha’s effect on him.
“Ye dinna admire strong women. Ye fear them,” Magnus retorted. “I’ve seen ye go out of yer way to avoid yer brothers’ wives.”
“I respect them. I dinna fear them.” The sky rescued him from further conversation by opening up the clouds and spilling out an even icier rain than earlier. “Time to find a fire and a drink,” he announced as he ducked inside the nearest door.
Magnus hurried after him. “Lead the way, man!”
As they turned the corner and strode into the corridor, Sutherland collided with something soft and smelling of very strong perfume.
“Merciful heavens! The chieftain shall hear of yer carelessness, I grant ye that!”
“Forgive me, m’lady. Allow me to assist ye.” He attempted to help the woman back on her feet but couldn’t get a proper hand hold because of all her floundering and the abundance of ruffles, skirts, and wraps in the dim lighting of the passage. Heaven help him if he happened to latch on to something he shouldn’t. “M’lady, stop struggling so I might help ye stand.”
The irritating creature continued her flopping like a fish out of water. “Nay, sir! Unhand me, I say!”
“Magnus, help me with this woman.” He failed to understand why the infernal creature couldn’t seem to gain her footing. He hadn’t bumped into her that hard.
“Step back from me, the both of ye! My best slipper’s gone astray and so has my earring. If either of ye step on them with yer clumsy boots, I’ll have yer heads on a platter! I swear it!”
“I’m nay touching her,” Magnus said as he backed up a step.
Sutherland agreed. As much as he hated leaving a lady in distress, this one was beyond help. Even in the shadowy hall, he could tell she had gone to her knees, crawling around and patting the floor in search of her lost items.
“For heaven’s sake, make yerselves useful and run fetch a torch!” she commanded.
Magnus disappeared so fast, Sutherland wondered if the man would actually return. A distinct sense of relief filled him as the hall brightened with his friend holding not one but two torches.
“There’s yer bauble.” He pointed to a glittering bit of metal encrusted with several stones.
“That is not a bauble, fool. Those are the rubies my third husband gifted me on our wedding day.” She scurried over on all fours, snatched up the earring, and fastened it back on her ear. “And there is my precious slipper. My darling fourth husband bought me those. Brought them all the way from a fine shop in London.”
Fourth husband? Sutherland took one of the torches and held it higher to better see this woman who appeared to go through husbands faster than grass through a goose. A fetching lass to be sure, probably several years older than his thirty some odd years and, from the looks of her low neckline, quite an expert at displaying her wares. Hair blacker than coal and eyes a watered-down blue, she reminded him of a harlot he once knew in Inverness. She was pretty enough, but there was a coldness about her, and it wasn’t just because he’d knocked her on her arse. He forced a polite bow and reached down to help her stand. “Sutherland MacCoinnich at yer service, m’lady. Again, forgive me for plowing into ye.”
The woman’s manner immediately changed, became kindlier, and a great deal more beguiling even though it still came across as forced. “MacCoinnich, ye say? Clan MacCoinnich? The clan grown rich from selling the finest horseflesh in all of Scotland and England combined?”
“Aye,” Sutherland said, leeriness setting in. The woman looked like Magnus’s falcon right before it ripped into its prey. He motioned to his friend. “And this is Magnus de Gray.”
“M’lady.” Magnus bowed.
“De Gray. I dinna ken that name.” She immediately dismissed Magnus and turned her attention back on Sutherland. “But I do know of Clan MacCoinnich. ’Tis my utmost pleasure to meet ye, sir. I am the Lady Delyth Culane.” Still sitting on the floor, she held up her hand and wiggled her fingers for his kiss.
Damnation, woman. She could at least wait until she was back on her feet. He bent, took her hand, and kissed