Chapter 12

12

" I f ye tell me there's nay threat to the clan because of the lass's presence, I'll believe ye," Logan said as he picked up one of the books from the shelf and examined it briefly before returning it.

Ewan kept a sharp eye on him, scrutinizing him as he moved about the study. He didn't know just how much information he wanted to reveal to his brother.

"She willnae be here long enough to cause any troubles for us," Ewan said.

The confidence and conviction in his voice left nothing to the imagination. Ewan knew all too well that getting involved with Bridget would only bring more problems than what he was willing to deal with. His chest ached at the thought of having to see her leave. To stop the progress of any unyielding emotions, he swiftly pushed away all thoughts of Bridget.

"For yer sake, I hope ye're right, Braither."

"This clan is me only concern. Do ye really think I'd willingly put anyone here in danger? Nay. I ken it's hard for ye, but ye must trust me on this one—Bridget is of nay concern. She's just a lass whom a series of unfortunate events befell her. Besides, what sort of clan would we be if we turned away someone in need? We didnae turn away the O'Conners when they were shipwrecked on our lands. Nay, we helped mend their boat and sent them safely on their way. I dinnae see why we must do anythin' different wit' the Englishwoman."

"Is that a hint of compassion I hear? I didnae think I would ever hear such a thin'," Logan teased as Ewan pursed his lips, regretting telling him anything.

"Ye wouldnae ken what compassion was if it smacked ye on the side of yer thick head," Ewan countered, a malicious grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Logan arched an eyebrow, welcoming the challenge. "That so? Seems to me I would ken a great deal more about these things, given the circumstances," he scoffed as he rounded the sofa and plopped down on it.

Ewan smirked as he walked to the small table in the corner of the room and pulled the chessboard from its sacred place.

"Ye swore ye'd nae use the past against me again," Ewan said as he placed the board before Logan.

"Aye, and I had nay intentions of doin' so," Logan said as they squared off and quickly got to work setting up the board.

"Then what exactly are ye implyin'?" Ewan asked as he pulled the kings from the board and shuffled them behind his back.

"Yer left if ye will," Logan said. Ewan pulled his left hand out to reveal the white king. "It would seem fortune favors the bold."

"There's a reason they call ye ‘the fool'—ye dinnae pay any heed to the dangers ahead," Ewan said as he waited for Logan to make his move.

"Tell me then, plainly , what interests ye in the Englishwoman?"

"And what concern is it of yers?" Ewan asked as he watched Logan move his pawn across the board.

"I found her bonnie and was goin' to ask for a dance," Logan answered.

Ewan didn't like the angry feelings that surged within him. The sensation made him want to toss the board and strangle his brother right then and there. But what reason did he have to justify such an outburst? It wasn't like he had any claim on Bridget; she was free to choose whomever she wanted.

"Ah, ye think ye can impress her wit' yer dancin' skills? Ha, I've seen ye dance, and there's nay denyin' ye dinnae understand what rhythm is. Nae to mention, we both ken ye have two left feet. Ye'd break the poor lass's other foot if ye took the lead," Ewan taunted as he countered his brother's move.

"Speak for yerself, I'm perfectly capable of wooin' the lass," Logan said as he made the first kill.

Ewan held back the grin tugging at his lips while he studied the board. If he didn't know his brother so well, he would have thought he knew what he was doing. But like all things in his life, Logan was hasty.

"I'm sure ye could, but Bridget isnae like the lasses ye brin' to yer bed," Ewan said. "She's far too cunnin' to be wooed by the likes of ye."

"Since when are ye and the Sassenach on a first-name basis? Sounds to me like ye might be harborin' feelings for her," Logan said as he took out Ewan's bishop.

The smirk on Ewan's lips widened. Swallowing hard, he opened the board with his queen and took out Logan's knight.

"Is that jealousy I hear in yer voice, Braither?" Logan taunted as he claimed Ewan's rook.

The game was now tied. Ewan refused to lose to his younger brother. With the shift of his queen down the line, Ewan had claimed his victory.

"Checkmate."

"Nay, ye didnae win," Logan grumbled as he looked over the board, double-checking his loss. Only when he realized there were no available moves did he surrender his king. "Ye cheated."

"Did nae. Ye're just mad that I beat ye, again," Ewan said as he gathered the pieces and placed them back on the board.

"Ye just have to be the best at everythin', do ye nae?" Logan huffed as he leaned back in his seat.

"Well, there is one thin' I have nay luck in," Ewan said. "And I had thought my braither was goin' to keep the council off my back on that issue."

Ewan didn't have to explain himself or the irritation that rippled through him.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck and gave a little shrug. "All I promised the councilmen was that I'd talk wit' ye about startin' a family—and by all accounts, I have. I held up me end of the deal, and there's nothin' they can say about it," he said as Ewan rose and returned the chessboard to the corner table. "What ye do from this moment on is yer choice. ‘Tis nae like I'm yer keeper or anythin'. What ye do wit' yer time is entirely up to ye."

"What are ye goin' on about?" Ewan grumbled as he glared daggers at Logan, wishing he'd cease his rant. "And it best nae be anythin' related to the rumors circlin' about. I dinnae need for me man-at-arms to be lendin' his ear to such nonsense."

"Nonsense, is it? Well then, ye willnae have a problem wit' me spendin' time wit' the Englishwoman? Ye see, word about yer actions in town are spreadin' through the village like wildfire. I thought ye ken better than to make any bold moves around our enemies."

"Katrina is hardly an enemy," Ewan said with a slight huff of amusement. The concept of Katrina as a threat made him want to laugh.

"I wouldnae be so certain about that, Braither. Ye dinnae ken what a scorned woman can do," Logan said. "I've seen first-hand what they can do if they think ye've done them wrong."

"Why are ye mentionin' Katrina?" Ewan asked as he glared at his brother suspiciously.

"Me? I didnae— ye did," Logan said as Ewan moved to the fireplace and stared at the flames consuming the logs.

"Ye're the one who thinks she's an enemy."

"And ye're a fool to think the woman ye turned down isnae still salty about it. She wouldnae have talked to yer Sassenach if she wasnae worried about bein' replaced," Logan said as Ewan's eyes narrowed.

Ewan didn't know what to believe. There was a part of him that wholeheartedly believed no woman would ever want him, not with half of his face damaged by a jagged scar that split his features from brow to chin.

"Ye dinnae ken what ye're talkin' about," he said, nearly choking on his words. But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made for Katrina to approach Bridget. "Besides, there is nothin' between the Sassenach and meself. She's only here until her ankle heals, and then she'll be on her way."

"Come now," Logan roared, throwing his hands into the air. "Ye really want me to believe that ye have nay feelings, notions, or yearnings for that lass?"

Ewan swallowed hard, forcing down every emotion, thought and longing he harbored for Bridget. "Aye, I do, because I'm yer Laird and braither."

"Then I suppose ye'll nae mind one bit that our aunt plans to host a wee gatherin' tomorrow," Logan said as he flashed a crooked grin that always suggested he knew more than what he was letting on.

"Out wit' it," Ewan demanded and leaned against the mantel. "I ken ye have somethin' to say. Ye always look like a cat about to swallow the canary when ye cannae hold in a secret. So ye might as well come clean and tell me what she's really planned."

"She's planned a cèilidh," Logan said as Ewan's eyes widened with shock.

"What? Has she lost her mind? Why on God's green earth would she do such a thin'? And dinnae tell me it has to do wit' the Sassenach ."

"Well, if ye didnae want to ken, ye shouldnae have asked," Logan said. "From what I've heard—and mind ye, I hear a lot—our wonderful auntie started plannin' this the moment she saw the Englishwoman."

"Ye cannae be serious," Ewan said, running his fingers through his hair.

He didn't know what to think about his aunt's actions. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself or Bridget.

"Aye, she thinks it'll help ye grow closer to yer people," Logan said with a slight chuckle. "She has it in her head that the people adore ye."

Ewan couldn't deny that truth: his clan did love him. He ruled over them well, and no one would ever say otherwise. Still, he didn't like the idea of having to be among the people. There was no doubt in his mind that half the clan was terrified of him and the other half didn't know better.

"Sounds like ye'll have a good time," Ewan said, turning his back to Logan. "Tell Auntie that I'll nae be manipulated into hostin' charity events."

Logan nearly rolled off the sofa from laughing so hard. He gasped for air, trying to compose himself as tears of mirth ran down his face. Ewan stood beside the sofa, watching his brother make fool of himself.

"Will ye stop," Ewan scolded.

"I think it's funny that ye actually think ye'll be able to get out of goin'. Ye ken very well that when our aunt has a notion in her head, she'll nae stop until it comes to pass, and as we speak, she's tryin' to get the clan to rally behind ye."

"I dinnae need the clan to rally for anythin'. We're nae at war, so why the need to gather? The rent is due in two weeks—we'll see everyone then."

"Ye do ken that the Sassenach will be there, do ye nae? But if ye dinnae mind me spendin' time with' her, then I'll be sure to keep her company."

A chill raced down Ewan's spine. The thought of Bridget being with Logan for the duration of the party left a bitter taste in Ewan's mouth. He glared at his brother, wishing there was some way to get out of the arrangement, but there was nothing he could do short of canceling everything his aunt had planned. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes and tried to push aside the sound of his aunt's whining voice the moment she found out he'd ruined her day.

"The cèilidh will go on without a hitch," Ewan grumbled as he glanced out the window.

The rivulets of rain distorted the scenery and his reflection. He swallowed hard and swiftly turned his attention to his brother.

"As for the Sassenach , she can have her fill of you if she so wishes. Who am I to stop her?"