MacFarland's Lass
Page 30
The secretary hastened off to catch the royal entourage, and gradually the crowd resumed their chattering. But Josselin's pulse was still racing when the Highlander gently pried the dagger from her white knuckles.
"Ye aren't from around here, are ye, lass?" he murmured.
"Nae," she answered in a daze. "I'm from Selkirk. Holy saints, did ye see that? Did ye see how she—"
"Who brought ye to Edinburgh?"
She stared in wonder after the procession. "I came alone."
"Alone?"
"My da said I could," she said dreamily. The queen was well down the road now, but Josselin kept watching. "As long as I don't talk to strangers. Or go to taverns. Or lose my temper." She smiled. "Ach! Wait till I tell Da that the queen herself—"
"A piece of advice, lass," he confided. "Hie home to Selkirk straight away." He scooped up her hat, dusted it off, and pressed it into her hands. "Ye could be halfway there by afternoon."
She snapped out of her stupor and frowned up at the man with the dark hair and the clear blue eyes, who really was quite handsome...for a Highlander. "Home? Why would I want to go home?"
He looked at her as if she were barmy. "Ye aren't thinkin' o' keepin' the appointment?"
"O' course I am. The queen herself commanded it." The sound of that sent a shiver of excitement through her. "The queen." She couldn't wait to tell her guardians.
He arched a stern brow. "Look, lass, before ye get your trews in a twist, I don't expect ye're bein' invited to supper."
Supper! That idea hadn't even occurred to her. Was it possible? She tucked the corner of her lip under her teeth, imagining it. Then she recalled, "She smiled at me."
"Royals always smile whilst they're sharpenin' their swords."
She lowered her brows. The damned Highlander was ruining her good mood. "Ach! What would ye know?"
"I know ye brought the procession to a halt." He shook his head. "I don't imagine the queen's too pleased about that."
She bit the inside of her cheek. He had a point. Josselin had made an impression on the queen. But what if 'twas the wrong impression?
"I did draw a blade," she admitted.
"Aye."
"And I was brawlin' in the street."
She looked at him uncertainly.
"I've heard in the French courts," he said, eyeing her garments, "they even have strict laws about dress."
She looked down at the overlong hem of her linen shirt, clutching a fistful of it. "Do ye think I offended her?"
He gave her a maddening shrug.
Her shoulders sank. "I didn't mean to offend her."
Then she narrowed her gaze at the Highlander.
"This is all your fault!" she decided, swatting his chest with her hat. "If ye hadn't stolen my hat, none o' this would have happened."
His lips curled into a smirk that was half-smile, half-frown. "Oh aye, lass. Instead ye'd be wheezin' at me through a knife-hole in your chest."
She scowled at him, jamming the hat back over her head. "Ye've obviously never seen me fight with a blade."
"I've seen enough to know ye've got a hot temper that likely ruins your aim." He handed her dagger back to her, hilt first.
She snatched it from him in irritation and slid it back into its sheath. Her Da Angus had told her the same thing a hundred times. She didn't need to hear it from a bloody Highlander, no matter how handsome he was.
The crowd began to disperse. Mary's procession was moving toward the Tollbooth. Drew could easily make his escape now, retreat to the comfort of his lodgings, settle in front of the fire with a frothy pint of ale, and forget about the whole upsetting debacle.
But something prevented him. Something with flashing green eyes, wild honey hair, and a filthy mouth. Something that was quickening his pulse and rousing the beast in his trews.
As a rule, Drew kept his distance when it came to exchanges with the natives. The less they knew about him, the better. His dark scowl kept most people away. For those to whom he had to be civil, he'd learned to affect Highland charm to steer the conversation away from personal matters. As for intimate encounters, he employed discreet wenches who charged for their services and their silence.
Why he felt drawn to engage a wee, fiery-tempered, trews-wearing lass who was a danger to herself and others, he didn't know. Surely it had nothing to do with her rosy pink lips, the rough whiskey timber of her voice, or the thought of what bewitching charms might lie beneath that baggy shirt.
Lord, he thought, shaking his head, he'd spent too many days of late on the links and not enough feeding his carnal appetites.
The lass might be beautiful, but she was trouble. 'Twas a mistake to intervene in the affairs of quarrelsome Scots. And the last thing Drew needed was to draw the notice of their queen.
But he supposed he was obliged to help the maid. She was partly right—it had been his idea to expose her. The queen might never have noticed her had it not been for the waving pennant of her dazzling curls.
Besides, be they Scottish or English, he'd never been the sort who could walk away from tiny, helpless creatures. Especially those with sparkling eyes and tempting lips. He'd at least get the lass out of immediate danger and on the road home. He owed her that much.
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About Glynnis Campbell
I’m a USA Today bestselling author of swashbuckling action-adventure historical romances, mostly set in Scotland, with over a dozen award-winning books published in six languages.
But before my role as a medieval matchmaker, I sang in The Pinups, an all-girl band on CBS Records, and provided voices for the MTV animated series The Maxx, Blizzard’s Diablo and Starcraft video games, and various audiobooks.
I’m the wife of a rock star (if you want to know which one, contact me) and the mother of two young adults. I do my best writing on cruise ships, in Scottish castles, on my husband’s tour bus, and at home in my sunny southern California garden.
I love transporting readers to a place where the bold heroes have endearing flaws, the women are stronger than they look, the land is lush and untamed, and chivalry is alive and well!
I’m always delighted to hear from my readers, so please feel free to email me at glynnis@glynnis.net. And if you’re a super-fan who would like to join my inner circle, sign up to be part of Glynnis Campbell’s Readers Clan on Facebook, where you’ll get glimpses behind the scenes, sneak peeks of works-in-progress, and extra special surprises!
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