"And Brodick obviously wants her," Iain interjected.

"Wanting isn't enough," Judith said. "Have you all forgotten she's English?"

"She used to be English," both Ramsey and Iain said at the same time.

Judith let them see how exasperated she was. "Didn't you and Brodick vow to marry Highlanders or not marry at all?" she asked Ramsey.

"Yes, they did," Iain answered. "After that unfortunate incident in England -"

"Will you quit calling it an 'unfortunate incident?'" Brodick demanded.

"We did make that promise," Ramsey admitted. "But Brodick has obviously changed his mind."

"I'm thinking of her reputation," Brodick muttered.

"Then simply stay away from her," Judith suggested.

"That is not an acceptable solution," Brodick said.

"Why isn't it?" Judith prodded.

"Because he doesn't want to stay away from her," Ramsey said. "That much should be obvious to you, Judith."

She decided to try another direction. "Brodick, have you told her what her life will be like living with the Buchanans?"

He shrugged. "I only just decided to marry her," he admitted.

"He told me I'd be miserable." Gillian's voice was but a hoarse whisper. She was still reeling from Brodick's outrageous impudence in dictating her future, but anger was quickly replacing disbelief, and within seconds she was trembling. She kept telling herself that any minute now they would have their laugh and tell her it was all just a game.

And when that happened, she knew she'd feel a glimmer of disappointment.

"Aye, she will be miserable," Brodick said.

Ramsey burst into laughter. "You told her the truth, then. I don't envy anyone, man or woman, who would try to fit in with those savages you call Buchanans."

"I won't be miserable," Gillian cried out. "And do you know why?"

The men acted as though they hadn't heard her question. Iain siezed on her first comment. "There, do you see? She already has an optimistic outlook. That's a fair start."

"Will you gentlemen stop jesting?" Gillian demanded. She had finally regained her senses and was determined to put an end to the discussion.

"I don't think they're jesting," Judith said. She moved closer to Gillian and whispered, "If you haven't already figured it out, I feel I should probably explain…"

Gillian threaded her fingers through her hair in agitation. "Explain what?" she asked frantically.

"They never jest. I do believe Brodick means to marry you."

Chapter Sixteen

"Brodick, I would like a word in private with you." Her clipped words didn't leave room for discussion, and she didn't even try to mask her anger. She wanted him to know she was furious.

"Not now, Gillian," he replied impatiently, seemingly unaffected by her show of temper. "Ramsey, we'll leave in ten minutes. Can you be ready by then?"

"Of course," Ramsey answered, and after bowing to Gillian and Judith, he started back up the hill.

Iain threw his arm around his wife's shoulders and turned to the west. "Before I go back to my duties, let's look in on the boys. They just went to Patrick and Frances Catherine's home."

Judith didn't have much choice, for her husband was pulling her along. "You promised to take them fishing," she reminded him.

"No, Alec promised on my behalf."

"But you will take them?"

"Of course I will." He laughed. "And I won't let them drown," he added, repeating Michael's promise to his brother.

Brodick continued to stand beside Gillian, but he wasn't paying any attention to her. He was fully occupied trying to locate Dylan in the field below, where over a hundred Maitland soldiers were training.

Gillian watched the group of women as they picked up their skirts and ran together up the hill. Most of them were giggling like little girls.

"What are they doing?"

Brodick glanced at the women. "Chasing Ramsey," he answered very matter-of-factly before returning to his task of scanning the field.

"Why?"

"Why what?" he asked as he continued to search.

She sighed. "Why are the ladies chasing him?"

The question startled him, for what should have been obvious to Gillian appeared not to be obvious at all. With a shrug, he said, "It's what they all do."

"All the ladies chase him?" she asked, still not understanding.

He finally gave her his full attention. "Yes, they do," he said quietly.

"But why?"

"You don't know?"

"I wouldn't ask if I knew, Brodick," she said, thoroughly perplexed.

"They find him… handsome," he finally said for lack of a better word. "That's what I've been told anyway."

"He's very nice and quite polite, but I can't imagine chasing after him just because he's attractive."

"The women don't care about his behavior or his character. They like looking at him."

She shook her head. "I know what you're trying to do. You're just trying to make me laugh so I'll forget about your arrogant claims in front of your friends."

"I swear to you, I'm telling the truth. Women like to look at Ramsey, and that's why they chase after him. You don't think him handsome?"

"I hadn't really thought about it until now, but I suppose he is," she said. "Yes, of course he is," she added with a bit more conviction so Brodick wouldn't think she was trying to find fault with his friend. "Iain's also very handsome. I'm surprised that the ladies don't chase after you. After all, you're much more…"

She stopped herself in time. Heaven help her, she was about to tell him how attractive he was. His earthy masculinity bordered on downright sinful. Just being near him made her want to think about things that were wanton and certainly unladylike, but strumpets had those kinds of thoughts. They were lustful; she wasn't. At least not until Brodick came into her life and turned it upside down.

Oh, she wasn't about to let him know how he affected her. The last thing she wanted to do was build his arrogance. Brodick already had enough to last a lifetime. "I'm much more what?" he asked.

She shook her head and tried to ignore his penetrating gaze. "I know why ladies don't chase you," she said. "It's because you scare them."

He laughed. "That's good to know."

"And you frown all the time."

"Ah, there's Dylan."

Without so much as a fare-thee-well, Brodick strode away. She couldn't believe his lack of courtesy; he hadn't even bothered to glance her way first. He just took off.

"Oh, no you don't," she whispered. "You're not getting away from me." Muttering to herself, she picked up her skirts and hurried down the hill.

"Brodick, I insist on having a word with you, and I don't care if you want to listen or not," she called out, but since he was so far ahead of her, she doubted he heard a word she said.

She didn't mean to pick up the pace, but the hill was much steeper than she'd judged, and before she realized what was happening, she was running and couldn't seem to slow down.

She propelled herself right into the middle of a sword fight. "I beg your pardon," she stammered when she bumped into a soldier.

The man didn't hear her, but he obviously felt her ram into his back. Believing another soldier was trying to best him from behind, he whirled around, raised his sword, and was swinging it downward in a wide arc when he discovered whom he was about to strike.

His startled shout reached the treetops. Gillian jumped back and collided with another soldier. She quickly turned to him and said, "I'm so sorry."

Then he shouted. Mortified by the turmoil she was causing, and not knowing where to turn, she whirled in a circle and then stood in the thick of the mock battle, surrounded by large, panting soldiers who were fighting as though their lives depended on it. None of them seemed to realize they were merely training.