The Highlander's Touch

Page 40

On second thought … “Did he tell you that? He promised me he wouldn’t announce it yet,” she lied glibly. If that was what Circenn had told him, and it would keep her alive, she’d go along with it for the moment. There would be ample time to amend things later.
“Nay, lass, he didn’t say it. His eyes did.”
Whose eyes has he been looking at? she wondered, because the only eyes she’d seen held murder in their depths.
The Bruce smiled broadly. “May you be as fertile as the hare. We need dozens of his sons in this land.” He laughed and patted her abdomen.
Lisa blushed, concerned that he might pat her breasts and inquire about her nursing abilities. She’d just been patted more familiarly by the king of Scotland than she’d been touched by any man, save Circenn.
“Does your clan breed well?”
“Uh … aye,” she said brightly, with another blush.
The Bruce hooked an arm behind him and drew Circenn forward, hugging them together. For a moment, her cheekbone was smashed against Circenn’s chest. After a few moments of the most uncomfortable group hug she’d ever been subjected to, the Bruce flung back his head and yelled, “I give you my cousin, Lisa MacRobertson!”
The Bruce stepped back, nudging them closer together. He took Lisa’s hand and curled her fingers into her palm, making a fist. Ignoring her look of confusion, he placed her balled fist in Circenn’s large hand. Lisa’s gaze flew to Circenn’s face and she saw the fury there, though the king seemed oblivious to it.
“It is with great pleasure I give this lass, my beloved cousin, hand-in-fist, to my favored laird and knight in our blessed cause, Circenn Brodie, along with four additional manors outlying his demesne. The wedding will be at Brodie when we meet there in three months’ time. Hail the future mistress of Brodie?” Robert roared, smiling at them both.
Circenn’s hand clenched around her fist. As the hall erupted into cheers, the look he turned on her was venomous.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that! I didn’t tell him that,” she hissed. “You’re the one who told him that.”
Circenn took advantage of the momentary chaos and pulled her into his arms. His mouth to her hair, he growled in a brogue thickened by anger, “I did not tell him that. The king decided, wholly independent of me, so, lass, if you truly can be leaving this century, I suggest you set your mind to determining how to do so, long before the third moon passes. Or you’ll be finding yourself wed to me, and I promise, lass, you will not fare well for it.”
“A kiss to seal it, Brodie!” the Bruce cried.
Only Lisa saw the fierce look on his face before he kissed her punishingly.
* * *
Galan found Duncan lying on the floor of the kitchen, clutching his sides. Every few seconds he drew a deep, wheezing breath, stuttered, then lost himself again in waves of laughter.
Galan watched him repeat the ridiculous sequence several times before nudging him with the toe of his boot. “Would you stop it,” he said disgustedly.
Duncan gasped, pounding his chest with his fist, then collapsed again into guffaws. “D-did—ah-hahaha—did you see his f-face?” Duncan roared, holding his stomach.
Galan’s lips twitched, and he bit the bottom one to remain serious. “This is a fankle, Duncan,” Galan chastised. “Now he’s nearly handfasted to the wench.”
Duncan’s only response was another roar of laughter. “N-nearly? H-he is!”
“I doona know what you think is so amusing about this. Circenn is going to be furious.”
“But he’s st-stuck!” Duncan gasped between near-sobs of laughter. Then he rose to his feet, took several great breaths, and finally managed to subdue his laughter for the moment, yet the corners of his mouth twitched furiously. “Doona you see what must have happened, Galan? Circenn must have requested the Bruce acknowledge her, and the king—knowing Circenn is of Brude descent—assumed Circenn wished her to be of royal alliance so he might wed her. So, Robert took it a little further, kindly thinking he was clearing the way for the woman to be accepted as his wife. Thinking he was giving Circenn exactly what he wanted.”
“Oh, really?” a cool voice said.
Duncan and Galan both sobered to immediate attention.
“Milord.” They nodded respectfully.
“You underestimate me,” Robert the Bruce said softly.
“Where’s Circenn?” Galan asked, glancing warily behind the Bruce.
“I left Circenn in the Greathall, accepting congratulations with his new lady on his arm,” Robert said smugly. “Think you I doona know the man has taken one of his ridiculous oaths not to wed?”