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court or with one so young.
    And there was no mistaking the undertone of challenge in her voice. Though he admired the direct attack, given that she had to lift her chin to prodigious heights just to look at him, he also found it somewhat amusing.
    “I’m surprised you remember,” he said. “You were but a child the last time I enjoyed the hospitality of Dunakin.”
    She frowned, and adorable little lines appeared between her furrowed brows. “But that’s not—”
    He cut her off by addressing Lizzie. “It’s good to see you again, Lizzie.”
    The poor girl blushed to her roots and murmured something unintelligible. Apparently, Elizabeth Campbell had not lost the extreme shyness that he remembered from when she was a girl.
    Jamie must have noticed Meg’s confusion at Alex’s casual greeting, because he explained, “Alex and his brother were fostered with our cousin Argyll. My sister and I spent quite a bit of time at Inveraray Castle in our youth, as did Alex’s sister Flora.”
    “And if I remember correctly,” Alex said to Lizzie, “you and Flora were always underfoot. Scampering around getting into some sort of mischief.” His mouth quirked at the memory of the pretty flaxen-haired child who’d traipsed after his willful wee hellion of a sister. It had been too long since he’d seen Flora, he realized. He wondered if she’d fulfilled her earlier promise of beauty. He hoped so. With a temper like hers, she’d need it. Lizzie was still pretty, in a quiet, understated fashion. Much like her friend.
    “Flora?” Meg asked.
    “My youngest sister.” At her look of surprise, he explained, “She lived with my stepmother, Janet Campbell, Argyll’s aunt, after our father died.”
    “Then your sister is—”
    “Argyll’s cousin also, yes,” he finished. It was hardly a connection he could forget.
    Alex turned back to Elizabeth. “How long has it been, Lizzie?”
    “O-o-ver fi-i-ifteen y-years,” Lizzie stammered, her cheeks flaming.
    Meg had finally turned her gaze from him and was watching her friend struggle with barely concealed distress. Her gaze flickered back to him as if trying to gauge his reaction. Alex felt his annoyance grow. What the hell did she expect, that he would laugh at her friend?
    Yes, he realized with a start. Knowing the vicious tongues at court, he imagined that was the typical reaction to Lizzie’s stammering.
    “Fifteen years ago?” Meg interjected smoothly—obviously she’d done this more than once. “You truly were a child, Elizabeth.” She turned to Alex, fixing him with those enormous eyes. The effect was instantaneous. God’s breath, he could drown in those luminous depths. Up close, he could see the smooth translucence of her skin and the soft green of her eyes, fringed by long feathery lashes. He felt a powerful yearning to touch her. To brush his finger across the delicate curve of her cheek and see if it was as unbelievably soft as it looked. This time, he was the one who was staring. “Are you recently arrived at Holyrood, then, Laird MacLeod?” she asked, breaking his trance.
    Despite his temporary fixation, Alex didn’t miss how the Mackinnon lass adroitly took control of the conversation, protecting her friend from further embarrassment. From the look of barely concealed adulation on Jamie’s face, he realized it as well.
    Alex was not unaffected. Lizzie had found herself quite a protector. He shook off the twinge of admiration. He should be focusing on Jamie Campbell and not Meg Mackinnon. He had no time to be distracted by a lass, no matter how intriguing.
    Alex nodded. “I only arrived yesterday.”
    “Where from?” Meg asked not so innocently. “Skye?”
    All vestiges of convivial thought fled. He gave her a hard look, one meant to stop further questions. “No.” His voice must have sounded harsher than he intended because she took an almost imperceptible step back. In a somewhat softer tone, he asked, “And what of you, Mistress Mackinnon,