Chapter Eleven
If Widow MacIlvray could cook, it was unfair.
Lisle watched the tall woman with the swaying curtain of black hair, the womanly shape, and the melodic voice and wondered why, if Monteith had such a beauty at his own doorstep, he would have taken a second look at Lisle.
That question became even more difficult to answer when the woman turned from her singing and saw who was at her doorstep.
If Langston thought all Highland lasses detested him, he had a strange way of thinking. This MacIlvray woman launched herself at him, with a call of “Monteith! You dark devil! Where have you been?”
She was almost upon him, and capable of making any man pick her up and hug her closely to his body, except Lisle stepped in front of him, folded her arms, and stared the woman into a halt in front of them.
She didn’t know where the urge to do such a thing came from.
It was another nasty-toned surprise for the day.
She also didn’t dare look over her shoulder to see what expression Monteith had on his face.
“Katherine,” Langston said in that slow way of his, “allow me to introduce my wife. Lisle, the Widow Katherine MacIlvray.”
“You’ve gone…and wed? Wed? You? Wed?”
She was having trouble saying the words. Lisle watched her. She wasn’t paying the slightest attention to the woman between them. She was watching Langston.
“Aye,” Lisle answered in the stillness. “Him. Wed. To me.”
“Nae.”
Her lower lip trembled for a moment, and then she flashed such a look of venom Lisle’s way that Lisle swayed backward into the solid block of man that was responsible for this entire nonsensical scene.
“You said you’d never wed. Anyone. Ever. It’s a horrible institution, you said. You promised.”
He lifted his left shoulder and dropped it with a shrug. Lisle felt the motion. “The urge came over me. I wed.”
“But—you promised.”
“If it helps at all, he dinna’ truly wish to,” Lisle offered.
“I doona’ need your help,” Langston said from over her shoulder.
Lisle’s lips twisted into a smile. “Very good. I’ll just see to fetching a bit of a repast, and leave you two—”
An arm snaked around her middle, pinning her to him.
That wasn’t entirely unpleasant, or it wouldn’t have been if there wasn’t a tall, exotic-looking virago facing her, ready to spit at both of them.
Since Lisle was shorter, she was bound to receive most of the projectiles.
Lisle didn’t know much about it, but this Katherine woman had too much of a sense of possessiveness not to have some claim to the same.
So, if Monteith had to have a kept woman, he should have had enough sense not to bring his new wife to her and expect a basket of foodstuff handed to him when he did so. Or if he were that stupid, he should know the food would probably be spoiled, and any ale acrid and without the proper age to it.
This Katherine was all woman, too. That was easy to see by the way her chest sucked in breath, held it, and then breathed it all over Lisle.
She also appeared to have all her teeth, and kept them in good condition, if the sweetness of her breath was any indication.
Either that, or everything about the kitchen smelled good.
Lisle wasn’t certain where to start on her suppositions, nor was the arm about her allowing her any motion with which to do so.
“What did she mean…you dinna’ want to?” the woman asked.
“Wishful thinking. On her part,” Langston offered smoothly.
“Wishful! So…you did want to?”
Lisle’s expression was probably comical. She was only grateful the woman wasn’t interested in anything about her, and missed seeing it.
“I’m na’ in the habit of doing things I doona’ wish to do, Katherine. Now, cease this bickering. It’s senseless and serves nae purpose.”
“We had an understanding.”
“We had naught. You put things into being in your mind. ’Twas never anything save that.”
“I really think I should leave—” Lisle started to say. Monteith lifted her, cutting off her air enough she had to let the rest of her words die off.
“By all that’s holy! Monteith!”
A large, gray-haired fellow entered, blocking what light there was in the doorway, and then he was inside the room, making it look even smaller.
He had a hand outstretched and then he had two of them, and then he had them on Katherine’s shoulders and was moving her to one side and holding her there.
“The lass giving you more trouble than usual?” he asked.
“A bit,” Langston said dryly.
Lisle looked from where the woman seemed to have shrunk, to the hands that were being gentle, but not allowing her much room.
“You should have sent us word. I’d have seen to it that she behaved.”
“’Tis all right. She frightened my wife, was all.”
“You’ve a wife? You? Nae.”
He looked down to where Lisle was trapped. She lifted one hand and waved her fingers at him.
“God love you, Monteith! That’s a Dugall as I live and breathe! Where did you find one? The entire clan was na’ just forced off their land, but they were put on a ship and sent away, along with the MacDonalds. I dinna’ think any of them survived the decree.”
“She was a MacHugh.”
“That there is Duncan Dugall’s lass. Has to be. Tell me I’m wrong, lass.”
“You’re wrong,” she replied.
His face went into a frown and then he brightened. “Elias Dugall, then. He had eight strapping lads, and one lass. Sent her off to a fancy French school, some years past. You’re her. You must be. Tell me I’m wrong, now.”
Lisle nodded slowly. This was another surprise, she thought.
“I doona’ know what magic you spun to get a Dugall lass to agree to wed with you, Monteith. If I dinna’ think you in league with the devil himself a-fore, I surely do now.”
“Why is that?” Lisle said.
“You dinna’ tell her?”
He was addressing the man above her. Lisle turned her head and looked in the same direction. Langston wasn’t meeting her eye.
“Why would I say anything? I dinna’ know she was a Dugall.”
“Tell me what?” Lisle asked.
The gray-haired man cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed her question.
Lisle turned back to him. “You dinna’ let my daughter, Katherine, frighten you overmuch, did you?
She’s the best cook in the entire glen, and further besides.
She’s just a bit overpowering toward the men ever since she lost her own, and it was na’ to some glorious battle, either.
Nae. He took sick with the ague. Two seasons past. I canna’ get another man to offer for her, although they like her cooking just fine. Isn’t that right, Katherine?”
She nodded, looking vacant, but her eyes were sharp when she turned them to where Lisle was still being held against Langston’s chest.
“I could sweeten it with a dowry,” Langston offered.
“That’s na’ the problem. She’s a tad too friendly with her charms. She has her eyes on any man, but especially on you. You should have let me know about your visit beforehand.”
“It was a surprise. I’ve decided to fill the day with them.”
Lisle knew her eyes were huge. She was only grateful Langston couldn’t have seen any of it.
“You have, eh?”
“’Tis the best way to intrigue a woman, I’ve found.”
“You dinna’ have that problem with my daughter, here. She’s had her eye on you for some time.”
“That’s na’ the woman I’m speaking of.”
“The wife?” Katherine’s father asked.
“The wife,” Monteith agreed.
“Take her to the weaving rooms. That should do it.”
“I rather fancied a picnic,” Monteith replied.
“Katherine. Pack the laird a basket. Doona’ take your temper out on him. I’ll stay and oversee it. Show the woman your weavers.”
Langston sighed, lifting her with it. She supposed that went for a reply.
“They’ve about finished with what you provided them already. ’Twas quite the undertaking, but go. See for yourself. I’ll bring the basket when she’s finished.”
Langston started walking out the door, taking Lisle with him. He didn’t need to hold her as tightly as he was; she didn’t have any fight in her. That changed in the next moment.
“And I would na’ tell the lass you bought up all the Dugall land!”
Langston stopped…inhaled, and then started cursing.
Lisle sucked in on air, and held it until it burned to keep from screaming.
He bought her family’s land after they were forced off of it?
She started struggling and squirming, and all that happened was she got his other arm around her, and then her air denied to her with the pressure of it.
“Stop it! Can you na’ see anything? Stop!”
Lisle only struggled further. They were out in the open now, between two crofts of the same size, with thin stripes of smoke coming from them, and not a soul came to her aid; not when she kicked, not even when she got a breath and tried to screech.
“Things are na’ as they seem, Lisle! Think! Stop this and think!”
Tears clogged her throat, and then they were spilling from her eyes, and splashing onto his arms. That was what got her the easing of them so that she could suck at the air like it was water, and she’d rather perish than let him see any of it.
Monteith spun her in his arms and shook her twice. “Stop that, and listen to me!”
Lisle bellowed a reply, which only got her another shake.
“This is why I canna’ trust you!”
“Trust me?” She spat the word in an unintelligible fashion, and said it again. “Trust me? Me?”
“Aye, you. Now, take some of that shock and use it to calm yourself. That’s it. That’s a good lass.”
Lisle pulled in a breath, narrowed her eyes, and looked up at him. He was holding her near his chest, and the expression on his face was severe, but not stony. She centered on trying to put the wall of numbness back into place. It wasn’t working. She didn’t know why. She exhaled.
“You’ve a redhead temper, haven’t you?” he asked, finally.
“I am a Dugall,” she answered.
“So I’ve just been informed.”
“What did you do with the land?”
He shrugged. “Naught.”
“You have crofters there?”
“Only those that were left. I wasn’t in time to do more.”