A Scotsman Never Surrenders…

H amish grunted and grinned. "Well then, we can go home."

The rest of the men smiled, clearly liking the way Hamish viewed their situation.

"The well is nae finished," Peadair stated firmly.

Hamish turned a harsh look Peadair's way. "Ye just said the woman is dead and the house is passing into the holdings of the Church. The priests will not be allowing us to spread rumors of enchantments. Best to just go home."

"I do not intend to tell our Chief that we failed," Peadair told them all.

Hamish narrowed his eyes. "Well, I would like to know just how ye are planning to deal with this matter."

Peadair heard the frustration in Hamish's tone. But he also recognized the challenge.

"I'll think of something," Peadair said.

Hamish mushed his lips together. "Ye want to see that lass again."

The rest of the men looked at Peadair, trying to decide if Hamish was correct.

"She is a fair lass." Peadair decided not to deny it.

"Ye just said she is promised to the Church," Hamish grumbled. He shook his head before he pointed at Peadair. "Ye'll bring a curse upon us if ye trifle with a lass promised to the Church."

"Well now…that is one way to get the rumors the Chief wanted going, is it nae?"

Around him, his men's eyes widened. Peadair had intended to shock them, but what he felt was a lot more like shame. Rhona had trusted him, and it seemed a very poor way to repay her faith in him. In fact, the idea of disappointing her bothered him a great deal.

The problem was, he wanted to see her again. So much so, that he didn't really care how he managed to do it. Just so long as she wasn't lost to him forever.