Scot to the Touch (The Hots for Scots #7) - Caroline Lee Page 0,51

the light, aye?—and discuss whatever has ye vexed. Davina?” he called, hearing naught but echoes in return. Frustrated, he even ventured a, “Graham? Damnation, man, are ye in here?”

From the distance came the sound of a body running into stone, then a man’s muffled curses.

“Graham?” Kiergan called, perking up. “Is that ye?”

“Vina!” the other man called; his voice muffled by distance.

Keeping his hand on the wall, Kiergan increased his pace. What in the hell was going on in here? The two doors were a dozen paces from one another—how could two, possibly three people, have gotten lost in between them?

“Davina?” he called, softer this time. “Graham?”

Running footsteps were heading toward him, but this time Kiergan didn’t duck out of the way. Nay, by his calculations, he was only a few paces from the second door. So he braced his weight, spread his arms, and prepared to catch whoever was hurtling down the passage toward him.

A body slammed into his, enough to make both men grunt. Kiergan wrapped his arms around the other man. “I’ve got ye now, ye bastard!”

His captive struggled, knocking both fists against his head, but Kiergan knew he didn’t have to hold him long; all he had to do was shove him, still kicking and fighting, out the door to the great hall, and his brothers would take care of the intruder.

So that’s what he did, only it didn’t go quite as smoothly as he’d imagined. His opponent fought him every step of the way, and the two of them spat curses at each other. The bastard was not only built like Finn and Duncan but sounded a hell of a lot like them too! But Kiergan was determined, and he lowered his shoulder, pulled open the door, and tossed the both of them through it just as his captive yanked hard on his hair.

Which is why Kiergan found himself crashing into the rush-covered floor of the great hall, his head pulled back to expose his throat to the fist which was slamming toward him. He followed the fist to the arm, the shoulder, then to the head, and locked eyes with…

Finn?

His brother pulled his punch just in time, and the two of them rolled apart, cursing and breathing heavily.

“What in the fook are ye doing?” panted Finn, levering himself to his knees.

“Me?” Kiergan shook his head as he staggered to his feet. “I thought ye were Graham. Ye’re built just like him.”

“I thought ye were the intruder!”

Kiergan offered his brother a hand up before the others could reach them. Rubbing his neck, he scowled at Finn. “Where in damnation did ye learn to fight so dirty?”

“That would be me,” rumbled Rocque. “I’m in charge of training.”

“Aye,” interrupted Malcolm, “but I’m in charge of fighting dirty. I had to, growing up so much scrawnier than the rest of ye.”

For the first time, Da snorted, and they turned to see him cross his arms in front of his chest. “All of ye fight to win, which is what matters. And if ye thought the other was this intruder, then I’m glad ye’re fighting dirty. Likely, he’d do the same.”

“Nay, I would no’.”

The new voice dropped into their gathering like a capstone coming loose from an inexpertly fitted arch. Kiergan, his brothers and Da all swung around to face the voice’s source.

Stepping out of the original door, leading Davina by the hand, was Graham.

“St. Thomas’s sacred uvula,” whispered Malcolm.

In the daylight, the resemblance was even more pronounced. The man’s features looked remarkably like Alistair and Kiergan, with Rocque and Malcolm’s coloring, and Finn and Duncan’s build. He was dressed simply, in a kilt with muted colors, and wore no weapons Kiergan could see.

Despite his time in the passages, Graham wasn’t dirty, and he faced the sunlight without squinting. His chin was held high as he met the eyes of each of the gathered men.

“What’s all this then?” Laird MacKinnon bustled toward them, dragging Aunt Agatha behind him.

To Kiergan’s surprise, instead of being glad to see her grandfather, Davina seemed to shrink away, and Graham stepped in front of her.

Shielding her from her own grandfather?

“Eh? Someone answer me!”

Aunt Agatha poked the old man. “Hush, ye auld goat! Let them talk.”

Without dragging his gaze away from the stranger, Kiergan spoke to the newcomers.

“Davina and Katlyn got lost in the secret passages, and Finn went after them, saw our intruder, then took off to catch Graham. Kat returned, I went in. I caught the intruder, but he turned out to be Finn,