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clenched his jaw. “Tannoch doesna trust anybody. Just dinna let him see ye’re attracted to Margaret.”
    “Obvious is it?”
    Logan winked. “Aye. And I dinna blame ye.”
    Rheade thanked God he had one brother he trusted. “I admit I am drawn to her.”
    Logan laughed. “Drawn! Ye practically drool over the lass.”
    Rheade frowned. “I’ll have to be more cautious. If ye’ve noticed, then others have too.”
    Logan tightened his grip on Rheade’s shoulder. “And we can only surmise what Glenna will report to Tannoch if she thinks it will give her some advantage with him.”
    They continued to the Great Hall. Rheade’s heart lifted when he caught sight of Margaret already seated at the table, but he tempered his hearty smile lest Tannoch’s spies were watching.

    ~~~
    Margaret smiled when Rheade arrived in the Hall. Despite the difficulty of the situation, she had enjoyed his company over the past few days. Warmth cocooned her; what she felt was more than enjoyment. She wanted him. Desire for a man was a curious notion she’d never given much thought to before, but she fell asleep every night imagining she was wrapped in his strong arms, listening to his husky voice murmuring words of love. The intensity of her longing astonished her.
    It was sinful, lusting for a man when you were betrothed to another, but there was no prospect of a marriage with Robert Stewart now.
    Hopes had stirred that Rheade was attracted to her. He’d been very attentive. Indeed Aunty Edythe had scolded her for encouraging his interest. But now his smile disappeared quickly as he came to sit beside her.
    “Good evening, Lady Margaret,” he said as he took his seat. His tone had changed. He seemed aloof, preoccupied.
    “Good evening, Rheade,” she replied, worried when he edged away from her on the bench. He’d been in the habit of pressing his thigh against hers. She missed the warmth of that intimate touch. Perhaps something had gone amiss since she’d seen him at the midday meal. “All is well with ye?”
    “Aye,” he replied gruffly, his attention seemingly on the venison a servant was heaping onto his trencher.
    Uncle Davey, seated to her right, leaned over and said, “Ask him when we can return to Oban.”
    She clenched her fists under the table and gritted her teeth. “’Tis nay a good time,” she hissed.
    “Now is as good a time as any,” he retorted loudly.
    “As good a time for what?” Rheade asked.
    A maelstrom of emotions swirled through Margaret. She didn’t want to return to Oban. Her uncle would concoct some way to oust her from Ogilvie House, unless she secured a husband. The likelihood of that once word got around she’d been betrothed to a murderer was non-existent. Exile to a nunnery loomed large. She’d rather be dead.
    Rheade was the man she wanted, but she was unsure of his feelings about her betrothal, indeed about her. She hoped he found her attractive.
    She didn’t want Uncle Davey and Aunty Edythe to remain in the east, any more than they wanted to stay, and Shaon had a family.
    However, it would be Tannoch, not Rheade who would determine what happened to them.
    “Ask him,” Uncle Davey insisted.
    She wanted to bring her heel down firmly on his foot, but she turned to Rheade, dismayed to see he’d tucked into his venison without serving her a morsel as he usually did. “My uncle and aunt must return to Oban soon. Shaon and Joss—”
    She faltered when Rheade narrowed his eyes and asked, “Do ye wish to return to Oban?”
    She averted her gaze from those perceptive brown eyes. “It is my home,” she murmured. “I suppose—”
    Uncle Davey coughed loudly. “What she means is Ogilvie House was her home, but there’s nothing for a bonnie young lass in Oban. She’d be better off staying here.”
    Anger seethed in Margaret’s heart. Her uncle might as well have said he wanted to be rid of her. “But the future here is uncertain,” she said hoarsely, her throat dry as dust.
    To her