Too Scot to Hold (The Hots for Scots #8) - Caroline Lee Page 0,5

impressive range.”

Rocque blinked, looking as though he couldn’t decide if he’d been insulted or not.

“Ye likely saved my life!” Kiergan went on, his tone so serious, he had to be teasing. “I might’ve caught the devil’s snot and perished!”

“The devil’s snot?” Graham repeated blandly.

“Aye, the devil’s snot! When it comes out of Rocque’s nose, ‘tis—”

Rocque growled, “Listen, ye little shite, I can still beat ye three ways to next Sunday, snot or nae.”

“Do I get a say?” Kiergan quipped. “I vote for nae snot.”

Below, the MacKinnons were rolling toward the gate, and Graham knew he was moments away from seeing Davina again. And here he was, arguing about snot.

“Kiergan, the sniffles likely willnae kill ye. Wash yer hands before ye eat and dinnae lick Rocque.”

“I shall endeavor to refrain from such urges,” Kiergan intoned solemnly.

“And Rocque…” Graham rounded on their larger brother, fumbling for the pouch on his belt and pulling out a scrap of material. “This is a handkerchief. ‘Tis more sanitary than yer sleeve, and if ye sneeze in it, ‘twill prevent the sickness from spreading.”

Rocque frowned at the square of linen. “I ken what ‘tis, but why would I want to sneeze into it and trap the sickness in my nose? Surely ‘tis better to force the devil snot out of my body?”

And spread it to the rest of the world? Graham tamped down on his shudder, knowing most people didn’t understand the human body the way he did.

“ ’Tis no’ devil snot. Nor… Nor…” With one eye on the approaching caravan, he searched his memory for what else he’d heard used to describe illnesses as he waved the handkerchief at Rocque. “Nor an evil miasma, nor bad air. ‘Tis merely that ye have tiny—” How to explain the theory of contagions? “Seeds of the illness in yer nose and mouth. When ye sneeze, ye spread those seeds.

“Like dandelions?” Rocque said doubtfully, taking the handkerchief.

“Aye!” Graham gratefully grasped for the metaphor. “And ye dinnae want to spread those seeds to those ye love.”

“We need Merewyn to be healthy, for yer own bairn and the rest of ours,” Kiergan pointed out.

Rocque was frowning down at the linen square. “So these demon seeds are in my nose, and I need to catch them before they can spread around?”

The analogy wasn’t perfect, but below them, the MacKinnons were trotting into the courtyard. “Aye! Close enough.”

“I cannae allow demon seeds to—to—”

As Rocque drew breath for another sneeze, Kiergan took a big step backward, and Graham used the chance to sidle closer to the courtyard.

“Achoo!” The big man had gotten the handkerchief up in time, catching most of the sneeze in the linen square.

“Good work, Rocque!” Kiergan burst out, springing to the big man’s side and slamming his hand down on Rocque’s back. “I’m so proud of ye!”

He beamed like a father bragging about his son’s first caught fish, as Rocque frowned suspiciously down at the handkerchief.

“That wasnae so bad,” he muttered, lifting the linen up by two corners to peer at it. “But I dinnae see the nose seeds.”

“Demon seeds,” Kiergan corrected, pointed one finger at the handkerchief. “And there’s one, see?”

“ ’Tis snot.”

“Mayhap demon nose seeds look like snot?”

As the two of them debated, Graham stepped up to the edge of the wall and peered down into the courtyard. There was the MacKinnon, his long white hair and beard braided in the style of a younger man. His men surrounded him, helped him dismount, then opened the door of the carriage.

Graham held his breath as a slim leg emerged, followed by a green gown the color of new leaves, and then…

He caught his breath.

Seven months, and she was still just as beautiful as he remembered.

Even from this height, he could see her subtle stretch, and the way she took a deep breath, then tilted her head back to catch the spring sunshine.

And when their eyes met, she froze.

This was it. She was back at Oliphant Castle.

Davina stretched her back, trying to be subtle enough her grandfather—who was already leading his men toward the stables—wouldn’t notice. Since her birth, she’d been taught the future of the MacKinnon clan rested in her hands, and ‘twas her duty to use her perfect manners, feminine charm, and stunning beauty to entice the right man.

Instead, she’d met and fallen in love with a bastard-born doctor on a mission of mercy.

Nae use thinking of Graham now. Focus on Katlyn. He might no’ even be here.

She took a deep breath before tipping her head back, then slowly