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having
    her honor questioned because of his eldest son’s actions made her
    defensive. “I have not been out of the sister’s company since that night, Lord
    Campbell. The bairn I carry is your son’s, no others.”
    A momentary scowl touched his face. “Alexander has already assured
    me of that, Mary.”
    A woman appeared at his side with a large tureen of stew. The Laird
    filled a couple of wooden bowls, first for Mary, then one for himself.
    The stew proved rich and well seasoned. Despite her emotional
    upset, she found the hearty broth soothed her queasiness and warmed her.
    She looked up to find Alexander’s men watching her from farther down the
    table as she sopped a piece of bread in the gravy and put it to her mouth.
    “They are relieved to see you eat so heartily, Mary,” Alexander
    commented from beside her. “All have noticed how little you have eaten
    these days past.”
    She stiffened, outraged. How dare he. “I should have known you would
    stay close enough to spy on me.”
    “We followed you to offer you protection should you need it.”
    His quiet tone made her comment seem petty and shrewish. She
    shifted uncomfortably as her cheeks grew hot with shame. “They should not
    fash themselves about me.” She directed her attention to her food.
    Alexander’s hand rested against the small of her back in a gesture
    both comforting and possessive. Straightening her spine, she drew away
    from his touch.
    “‘Tis our way to care for each other, Mary. When one member of our
    clan is ailing, it affects us all.”
    What cure could he offer her for the things he had done? The touch of
    his hand made her want to weep. “I am not a member of your clan. You
    proved that well enough at Lochlan.”
    Alexander withdrew his hand and cupped the tankard of ale at his
    elbow, his features set. She felt like weeping all over again.
    At the end of the meal, cheese, cakes, and a variety of dried fruits were
    served. After weeks of nothing but water to drink, she enjoyed the hot
    aleberry placed before her. She sipped the sweet drink as she listened to
    Alexander, John, and her father discussing the journey to Loch Awe.
    “I did not appreciate having my daughter loose an arrow in my
    direction,” Collin commented.
    “My aim is true, Collin. Had I wanted you dead, you would be.”
    “‘Tis grateful I am you did not mean us any harm then, Lady Mary,” a
    man spoke from across the wide table.
    His face thinner and his eyes pale gray, his features still bore an
    unmistakable resemblance to Alexander. Thick hair the same deep
    chestnut color waved across his forehead and lay against his collar.
    “Mary, this is my brother, Duncan,” he introduced her. “And the lad
    beside him is our younger brother, David.”
    She studied the youngest brother’s features. His resemblance to his
    father lay in his height and the width of his shoulders; the difference in the
    curve of his brow and the fullness of his lips. The high structure of his
    cheekbones gave his face a refined quality. His dark auburn hair, longer
    than Alexander and Duncan’s, hung down his back in soft waves.
    David’s pale gray eyes studied her face then his lips curved into a
    smile filled with charm. “‘Tis an honor to meet you, Lady Mary.”
    “I thank you for the use of the tartan.” She nodded to Duncan as she
    wrapped the fabric more closely against her.
    “Twas my pleasure to offer you a gift so well used. It was most
    becoming as a kilt.”
    His teasing had her smiling. “I thought ‘twould be safer traveling as a
    lad, than a lass. I did not know I was being protected.” Her gaze trailed
    down the table to the rest of the men. “‘Tis grateful I am for that as well,” she
    said by way of an apology.
    A wealth of smiles spread across the men’s faces.
    “I would not be much of a husband, if I did not watch over you, Mary,”
    Alexander said beside her.
    She avoided looking at him for fear she might be tempted to soften
    toward him.