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“Mayhap, but that is no reason for anyone to shoot at me or Lucais.”
    â€œLucais?” Neilli’s nose wrinkled with distaste. “Anice, you must not be so familiar with a low-class man like him when we are in London.”
    Looking away from her cousin’s eager smile, Anice sighed. She wondered how Neilli was able to turn every conversation back to London and the Season. Did Neilli think of nothing but going to Town to obtain herself a match with a titled husband who could give her the exciting life she yearned for? Anice tried to understand it, but she could not. After years of traveling around the world with her mother and whichever stepfather, she liked the idea of a quiet life here in Scotland.
    Too bad no one would allow her a moment’s peace.
    â€œI do not think Lucais MacFarlane is of low birth,” Anice replied, relaxing against the chair. “He speaks with an undeniable sense of education.”
    Again Neilli’s slender nose showed her contempt. “You are too generous to everyone you meet. I suppose you learned to be kind to your inferiors while you were wandering all over the world. Things are different in London.”
    When she had first arrived at Ardkinloch, Anice might have argued that she had been honored to be hosted by kings and rich families. She did not bother. Neilli would not heed her. All Neilli was interested in was that husband she was certain awaited her in London.
    â€œI will have to take your word for it,” Anice said softly.
    â€œNot mine!” Neilli erupted from the bed and paced about the room. “I have never been beyond Edinburgh. When I think of what entertainments are going on in London—”
    â€œYou should go.”
    â€œBut the Season comes at the same time as the lambing,” she grumbled, dropping to sit on another chair and glowering out the bay window at the soft roll of hills on the other side of the glen. “We never can go.”
    â€œThere is,” said a deep voice from by the doorway, “always the Little Season, sister.”
    Anice wanted to groan, because she knew that now she would not have a respite for her aching head. She simply smiled at Neilli’s twin brother.
    Parlan Kinloch was as handsome as Neilli was beautiful. Broad-shouldered, he could have stepped from an illustrated book about Vikings in the manor house’s library. Anice often had wondered why Parlan was so accepting of her claim on these lands, but she suspected he preferred his easy life to overseeing the Kinloch estate and the extended family who lived here. Unlike his twin sister, he had no ambition to advance himself with marriage.
    That is because he knows Neilli has plans for both of them , Anice thought ruefully. Plans that Neilli expected Anice to bring to fruition.
    Her eyes widened, and she came to her feet when Parlan walked in and held out two guns. “What are you doing with those?” she asked.
    â€œReturning them. I found them up by the old crofter’s cottage. I recognize this one. It is yours, Anice.” He handed her one of the guns. “I do not know who owns this one.”
    â€œIt belongs to Lucais. Lucais MacFarlane,” she hurried to add when he scowled. Setting her gun against the large armoire that claimed the wall beside the hearth, she held out her hand.
    For a moment, she thought he would not give her the gun. He snarled something under his breath and shoved it into her hand.
    She choked back a cry as it touched her lacerated palm. How could she be so unthinking? The pain burned there unceasingly. Yet, the very thought of Lucais MacFarlane unsettled her so much that she did something foolish.
    â€œI am fine,” Anice said when both of her cousins began flinging questions at her at the same time. That might be the largest lie she had ever spoken. Her head throbbed and her hand hurt and she was tired of Neilli’s less than subtle requests to go to London without