Return of the Scot (Scots of Honor #1) - Eliza Knight Page 0,25
him well enough that he understood when Lorne was ready, he’d spill.
“How’s Gille taking it?”
Lorne scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I have no’ seen him. In fact, I have no idea where he is.”
“No?” Malcolm frowned. “The lad is much the same, albeit more reckless. I’m surprised he’s waited this long to come to ye.”
“When was the last time ye saw him?”
“Months.” Malcolm shook his head. “But I was no’ surprised because I did no’ agree with what he did, and I made my feelings plain. Which, of course, Gille took a little too personally.”
“I asked my solicitor to hire detectives to look for him. But I’ve no’ heard back yet.”
“Why no’ let me take care of finding him?” Malcolm said. “I’ll be more discreet, and being we’re blood, I have more of a vested interest.”
Malcolm had always been good at finding people and information. Though he was a member of the House of Lords, he was also well respected in the War Office for his talents.
Lorne nodded, squeezing Malcolm’s shoulder. “All right. I should have thought of that before. I’d appreciate it.”
“It’d be my pleasure to gift ye with your brother,” Malcolm chuckled. “All of us were stunned when he sold Dunrobin. What could the lad want with the money?”
“I still can no’ believe it happened.” Lorne shook his head. “And I do no’ think it was about the money, so much as being rid of me completely.”
“Easily reversible, aye?”
“Easier said than done.” Lorne let out a long breath, not wanting to explain further. And luckily, he didn’t have to as Alec Hay and Captain Euan Irvine, whom he’d not seen since the battlefield, arrived.
“Ye haunted me in my dreams, Sutherland. God, I’m glad to see ye’re alive,” Euan said.
Lorne embraced his friend, the lot of them chatting about old times as they prepared.
“What’s first?” Alec asked, nodding toward the equipment.
“Your choice.” Lorne held out his arms. “It’s been a bloody long time since we were all here together.”
“I think I’ll take on Malcolm in the ring,” Alec said with a grin that suggested he’d been waiting a long time to settle a score.
“Ye just want to see if I can still maintain my balance on the planche,” Lorne accused with a chuckle.
Alec let out a loud laugh. “Ye said it, but we’re all thinking it.”
“I may impress ye yet,” Lorne boasted.
“Never happened before,” Malcolm teased.
The men ribbed each other about the first time they’d gotten into a round of fisticuffs as youths over a game of rugby. After they’d been broken apart and made to suffer the same punishment of peeling potatoes for a week in the kitchens, they’d been the best of friends.
With their slim foils and masks in hand, Lorne and Euan climbed the short ladders to the planche, the very same wooden beam they’d balanced on years before as they fenced. It felt good to be with his friends again, working not only his body but also his mind. The beam was sturdy beneath his feet, and he tested the bottom of his shoes on the wood, testing the slide and catch of his soles.
“Are ye ready?” Euan asked.
“Aye. Blast, but it’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Euan agreed.
They tied on their wire mesh fencing masks.
“Thank God ye’re covering up your ugly mug. I could no’ stand to look at ye another minute,” Euan jested.
“Ye might need some extra padding, as ye know I’ll be giving your arse a sound beating,” Lorne quipped with a mock salute.
Euan grinned, saluting back, and then took up the proper stance, one leg forward and the other behind, bearing most of his weight on the rear leg. Lorne did the same. He was surprised at how easy it was to remember what to do despite him being untried for so long.
Euan’s foil pressed forward. “En garde, my friend.”
“Fence,” Lorne said with a grin he hoped Euan could see behind the mask.
They advanced, each of them being cautious for a moment to get their bearings and balance. Lorne attacked first, but Euan was quick to parry. Back and forth they went, each of them seeming to melt into a time when they’d done this on the regular. Lorne feinted right, then attacked left, throwing Euan off-balance. His opponent leapt and retreated out of range, wobbling slightly on the planche as he worked to regain his balance. Lorne wasn’t ready for their bout to end and backed up a step to allow his friend a moment to recuperate.