and her eyes widened. “Agatha, ye hair….”
“It’s smashing, isna it?”
Smashing? Ciaran raised a brow and grinned at the horrified expressions from the other four council members as they filed in behind Maggie. They looked as though Agatha had slapped them.
Agatha winked. “A phrase I got from Bannon.” She mouthed the words “Guid luck” and left him alone with the clan elders.
As the door snapped shut behind her, the council members crowded in front of his desk.
Well, here goes nothing. Ciaran stood, putting himself in a superior position, like his father had taught him. The geriatric busybodies would catch him eventually. They made everything more complicated and wanted him to answer for every one of his actions. The council system was outdated, set up before his ancestor was rewarded the earldom and chieftains were still voted upon. But until the clan bylaws were changed, he had to deal with them. So he extended an arm, motioning to the room. “Please, have a seat.” He walked around the desk and went to stand in front of the fireplace.
The solar was one of the rooms he’d always felt comfortable in. He’d sat here many a night with his family, reading and talking, even singing. His big oak desk took up one end of the room and the window seat the other. The large stone fireplace resided along the wall opposite the door, making a perfect stage of sorts for Ciaran. The room was elegant, luxurious, and comfortable. It had been decorated to be as much of a showplace to impress visitors as it was to be a comfortable area for the family to relax. All the furniture was situated around the fireplace, with a large red-patterned rug—which his great-grandfather had gotten from the capital—in the middle of the floor. It wasn’t as grand as the great hall, but it worked for a private meeting.
It didn’t take long for them to find their seats and look up at him. Maggie and Frasier commandeered the love seat facing the fireplace, Owen and Stuart shared the window seat, and Gavin took his place in one of the two chairs perpendicular to the love seat.
Determined to retain the upper hand, Ciaran spoke first. “As ye have probably heard, I have brought guests tae Lochwood.”
“That is why we are here. Who are these guests? We’ve heard they are outsiders.” Owen’s big, bushy gray eyebrows lowered, and his brow furrowed, though he did not sound hostile or confrontational, merely confused.
“Aye, they are, but they arenae the same outsiders who’ve been attacking us.”
“How can ye be so sure?” Maggie barked at him, and her chin rose another notch, signaling that she was only warming up. Unlike Owen, she had already decided Ciaran was in the wrong, which was typical. She and Frasier were his biggest critics.
“They are unarmed and dressed differently. Their ship was also different. They are the only survivors of a shipwreck. I am hoping they can tell us about the men who have attacked us.”
Frasier shook his head, making his long gray braid slap across his chest. “I dinna like it! They must go. Have ye forgotten all we’ve lost at the hands of outsiders? It could be a trap, intended fer them tae gain entrance tae Lochwood.”
The other council members began to nod in agreement.
Ciaran stifled a groan. He too had initially considered the possibility. He’d have been stupid not to, but he’d long since dismissed the notion. “I assigned guards tae watch them.”
The group began talking at once. All but Stuart.
Stuart, the oldest of the council, sat in the chair, looking bored, his hand on his chin. He was so still that if not for his eyes being open, Ciaran would have thought him asleep.
Holding up a hand, Ciaran said, “I am hoping our guests can give us some answers and help us figure out what the outsiders want and how tae defeat them.”
“We havenae had any skirmishes in over a month.” Maggie started shaking her head. “Nae. They must go. Ye should be trying tae find our cattle.”
“And our chickens,” Gavin added. It figured Gavin would be the one to bring up the chickens, not that he’d missed many meals. Once a strong warrior but now in his seventh decade, Gavin had gone soft. Fiona jokingly referred to him as a big bear, and she wasn’t far off the mark. Gavin had a grizzly beard, which still hinted at the brown it used to be, and a round body. He wasn’t overweight, but he