Lachlan's Heart (The MacCulloughs #2) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,9

this very chair? Too many to count.

With one hand, Lachlan picked up the chair and called Jamie forward. “I am a MacCullough,” he declared loudly. “I will nae defile the skin of my own arse by sittin’ in that. The Chisolm clan is no more.”

Uncertain just what he was meant to do with the former seat of power, Jamie gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and carried the thing out of doors.

Caelen chuckled loudly before giving Lachlan a firm slap on his back. The blow came close to knocking the air out of his lungs, but he wasn’t about to let anyone know that.

“I like ye, MacCullough. Ye have bollacks, that’s for certain.”

Forgoing the formalities of the dais, the two men stepped to the hearth. Caelen waited for his wife to sit before taking the seat beside her. Lachlan sat opposite them.

“Richard sends his thanks and regards,” Lachlan said.

“How are his brothers?” Fiona asked.

“They fair well.” While Raibeart and Richard were healing nicely and would make a full recovery, Lachlan worried over Colyne. The young lad had been through hell and back. God only knew if there would be long suffering effects of his imprisonment. He kept those thoughts to himself for a wide variety of reasons. Mostly because that was a private family matter. And God only knew how riddled with ears the walls of this keep were.

“Fiona tells me we are at war,” Lachlan said, wanting to get to the heart of the matter. The sooner he dealt with whatever problems there were, the better off he and his men would be. And he could get to the business of taking over.

“Aye,” Caelen said as he scratched his stubbled jaw. “Ye be at war, all right. On two fronts.”

“Fiona mentioned the MacGregors,” Lachlan began before being interrupted by a serving maid bringing refreshments. A pretty lass of no more than four and ten he assumed, with fiery red hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles that dotted her nose. She carried a tray with three mugs. Caelen and Fiona declined, but Lachlan happily took a mug of ale from her tray.

“Ye might want to have someone taste that first,” Caelen warned.

He paused, the mug a mere inch from his lips. “Ye jest.”

“Nay, I dunnae jest.”

The serving girl looked nervous; her eyes darting back and forth between Caelen and Lachlan.

“Meet yer new laird,” Caelen told the frightened girl. “And take a sip of that ale in his honor.”

She was horrified; tears began to fill her eyes. She’d been caught and knew it. Without uttering a sound, she fled from the gathering room.

Fiona carefully took the ale from Lachlan and poured the contents into the hearth. The flames sizzled as a cloud of smoke and steam rose up.

“I would nae eat or drink anything I did nae prepare myself,” Caelen warned Lachlan. “Else ye will find pissed-filled ale, shite filled meat pies, or worse yet, poison.”

Lachlan sat in stunned incredulity.

“I take it they have nae been too keen on havin’ ye here,” Lachlan said.

Caelen grunted as he shook his head. “That, lad, would be a monumental understatement. Thus far, we have put down three insurrections, a mutiny, and have tossed more Chisolms into their own dungeon than I can count.”

Lachlan had been prepared for some troubles in the beginning, but this? Poison? Insurrection? All of that in a week’s time?

Nay, he hadn’t prepared himself for those things. However, he felt that with the right leadership, he could get the Chisolms to come around.

“I warn ye, MacCullough, the road ahead of ye will be rife with deceit and outright hostility. Apparently, their former lairds were all loved beyond measure, to hear them tell it.”

Fiona gave a quick nod. “Aye, ye cannae find anyone who will say a bad word about Maitland or Randall Chisolm. They were adored.”

“I dunnae give a damn about adoration. I care about fealty and honor,” Lachlan told them. “I will nae settle for anything less.”

Caelen leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out towards the warm fire. “Dunnae say I didn’t warn ye.”

As long as he had the MacDougalls and MacCullough men alongside him, Lachlan firmly believed he could quash any further troubles from these people. “And I thank ye for the warnin’,” he said. “Now, besides the MacGregors, who else are we at war with?”

Caelen threw his head back and laughed. “Lad, have ye nae been listenin’? Ye are still at war with the Chisolms.”

“Thus far, in the five days we have been here, we