A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,49

glares threatened to make me go up in flames—but she’s not as on edge, as defensive as she used to be.”

“I noticed at the evening meal,” Donnan shared. “I even sensed it while we danced. She’s always grinned at my jokes when we’ve danced in the past, but this eve, she fully laughed—even giggled. She’d danced with Brodie the set before each of ours.”

“He said he liked a challenge. Mayhap his goal isn’t so much to tame her as it is to enjoy her fire.”

“From how you described her face when you discovered him in her chamber, I would assume he’s enjoyed it already,” Donnan grinned, and Monty grimaced. The door to the inn swung open, and a rowdy group of courtiers entered. Both Donnan and Monty groaned. “Why are they choosing respectable places? I can think of three taverns they’re better suited to.”

“They can’t afford the whores there,” Monty muttered. The couple lowered their heads, hoping not to draw attention to themselves, but Monty’s hair was unmistakable.

“Ross!” Andrew MacFarlane, Lady Catherine’s cousin, bellowed. The man swiped a mug from a passing serving wench’s tray and dropped a coin down her cleavage with a wink. He and half a dozen men made their way to Monty and Donnan’s table. Monty flashed Donnan a wary gaze before they smiled at the newcomers. Monty recognized only half. “I’d introduce you to Montgomery Ross and his second, Donnan Ross,” Andrew chirped.

“Good eve, I’m Seamus Mackenzie. I represent my laird at court,” a blond man nodded.

“I’m Stephen MacBain,” the man who sat down beside Daniel said.

“Matthew MacDougall,” the last unfamiliar man grunted at Monty. “Nelson’s brother.”

“Speaking of the arse,” Andrew turned to Matthew. “Where is he?”

“The Merry Widow as far as I know. With bluidy Oliphant up his arse. Likely buggering him.”

Monty and Donnan knew better than to look at one another, but their grips tightened on their mugs. “Gunn, Mackay, MacKinnon,” Monty greeted the three he knew. He was indirectly related to the Mackay representative through marriage. He was on friendly terms with him since he was Laird Tristan Mackay’s cousin.

“What brings you here?” Magnus Mackay asked.

“The lack of a crowd,” Monty said pointedly, to which Andrew guffawed.

“More likely escaping your wee sister. I was surprised she wasn’t breathing fire at you. She’s a dragon if ever there was one,” Andrew laughed.

“She’s my sister,” Monty warned.

“If anyone should fear for his arse, it’s Campbell,” Matthew MacDougall sniped. “I don’t even like the mon, but I’d rather he roast in hell than from Lady Laurel.”

Donnan nudged Monty under the table before placing coins on the table. Because of Donnan’s position as Monty’s second, he was able to share a chamber with Monty, rather than sleep in the barracks. The arrangement suited them well. The Rosses made to rise, signaling their men, but Laird Edgar Gunn placed a pouch of coins on the table.

“I didn’t have an opportunity to enter the wager Oliphant placed. But I offer a new one. I wager fifty pounds Campbell doesn’t show up to his wedding,” Edgar announced.

“I shall up that ante,” Daniel said. “To one hundred pounds, just as Oliphant offered.”

“I bet he will,” Magnus replied. “She doesn’t need to speak if he keeps her occupied enough, and she has a fine figure to distract him if she does.”

“You will not wager on my sister,” Monty snapped. “Put your money away, Gunn.”

“Join the wager or not, but you cannot stop me,” Edgar taunted. “Aye, throw your fist at me. I shall just arrange the bet elsewhere.”

“I wager you’re likelier to marry before she does,” Stephen suggested.

“I’m not here to see to my own wedding. I’m here to arrange my sister’s, which I’ve done. It will happen as soon as the banns have been read,” Monty insisted.

“That gives the poor bastard three sennights to get lost among the hills,” Andrew snorted. “He’d do well to ride off tonight.”

“Leave off,” Monty threatened, rising to his feet with his hand raised toward the claymore strapped to his back. At his movement, all the Ross men rose. The newcomers foolishly arrived without guards, presumedly believing they could defend themselves and one another. The Rosses outnumbered them.

“Bah. Dinna get in a twitch, Ross,” Andrew waved at his seat. “I say, rather than betting whether Campbell marries, we save the poor bastard.”

“Have him compromise some other lady?” Edgar snickered.

“Doesn’t he know Lady Laurel is a pauper compared to your other sisters?” Matthew asked. “He must have read the contracts.”

“He’s not interested in her dowry,” Monty

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