"Are they coming to your home, do you suppose?"

"Yes."

"What do they want?"

"I'll find out when they get here," he answered.

"And when will that be?"

"Late this afternoon."

"Will they stay for dinner?"

"No."

"It would be rude not to invite them to eat with you."

He shrugged. She wasn't deterred by his lack of interest. As his wife, she felt it was her duty to instill some manners in her husband.

"I shall instruct the servants to prepare places at your tables for your guests," she announced.

She waited for him to argue with her and was pleasantly surprised when he remained silent.

Johanna turned her attention to planning the menu. A sudden thought occurred to her. She let out a gasp. "Good Lord, Gabriel, you didn't steal from the MacInnes clan, did you?"

"No," he answered, smiling over the outrage in her voice.

She relaxed against him again. "Then we don't have to worry they're coming here to fight."

"Fight with only ten soldiers? No, that isn't a concern," he drawled out.

The amusement in his voice made her smile. Her husband was feeling more cheerful now. Perhaps his good mood was due to the fact that he was going to have company.

She would make certain the evening went well. There wouldn't be enough rabbit stew to go around unless she went hunting for more. She discarded that idea. The rabbits would have to simmer for several hours or be too tough to eat, and there wasn't time for that, anyway. Johanna decided she would change her clothes, then go to Cook and discuss the problem. Hilda would know how to stretch the meal, and Johanna would, of course, offer to help with the preparations.

She wished she could get rid of the Maclaurin soldiers for the night. They were so terribly loud, disruptive, and horribly rude. Why, the way they tried to outbelch each other was downright disgusting.

Still, she didn't want to hurt their feelings. They were part of Gabriel's clan now and would, therefore, have to be included.

They reached the courtyard. Gabriel dismounted first, then turned to assist her. He held her longer than necessary. She smiled up at her husband while she waited for him to let go of her.

"Johanna, you will not get into further mischief. I want you to go inside and…"

"Let me guess, m'lord," she interrupted. "You want me to rest, don't you?"

He smiled. Lord, she was fetching when she was disgruntled. "Aye, I do want you to rest."

He leaned down, kissed her, and then turned to lead his mount back to the stables.

Johanna shook her head over her husband's ridiculous orders. How could she take the time to rest when they had company coming for dinner?

She hurried inside, propped her bow and carrier against the wall at the bottom of the steps, and then went up to her chamber. It didn't take her long to change into dry clothes. Her hair was still too wet to properly braid. She tied it with a ribbon behind her neck, then hurried downstairs again.

Megan was standing by the doors, peeking outside.

"What are you doing, Megan?"

"The MacInnes soldiers are here."

"So soon?" Johanna asked. She went over to stand beside Megan. "Shouldn't we open the doors and welcome them inside?"

Megan shook her head. She moved out of the way so her mistress could look outside, then whispered, "Something's wrong, m'lady. Look at the way they're all frowning. They've carried along an offering for our laird though. Do you see the burlap draped over the laird's lap?"

"Let me have a look." Father MacKechnie whispered his request from behind the two women.

Johanna bumped into the priest when she turned around. She begged his forgiveness over her clumsiness, then explained why she'd been caught peeking at their company.

"Their behavior is most contradictory," she said.

"They're all scowling, but it's apparent they've carried along a gift for your laird. Perhaps their frowns are all for show."

"Nay, that can't be," Father MacKechnie replied. "The Highlanders aren't at all like the English, lass."

"What do you mean, Father? Men are men, regardless of how they dress."

The priest let the door close before answering her. "In my experiences with the English, I've noticed a peculiar trait. They always seem to have a hidden motive behind their actions."

"And the Highlanders?" she asked.

Father MacKechnie smiled. "We're a simple group, we are. What you see is what you have. Do you understand? We don't have time for secret motives."

"The MacInnes soldiers are frowning because they're angry about something," Megan interjected. "They aren't clever enough to use trickery."

The priest nodded agreement. "We have no use for subterfuge. Laird MacInnes looks as mad as a hornet someone just tried to swat. He's in a snit all right."

"Then we will have to do our best to soothe him. He is company, after all," she reasoned. "Megan, please go and tell Cook we'll be having eleven more for supper. Be sure to offer our assistance with the preparations. I'll be along in just a minute."

Megan hurried to do her mistress's bidding. "Cook won't mind the inconvenience," she called over her shoulder as she started down the hallway to the back door. "She's a MacBain, after all. She knows better than to complain."

Johanna frowned over that puzzling remark. Why did it matter if Cook was a MacBain or a Maclaurin? Megan had already disappeared, and so Johanna decided she'd have to wait until later to ask her for a proper explanation.

The priest turned her attention then when he pulled the door open. She stood behind him. "Which one is the laird?" she asked in a whisper.

"The old man with the bulging eyes seated atop the speckled mount," Father MacKechnie answered. "You'd best stay here, lass, until your husband has decided if he's going to let them come inside or not. I'll go out and speak to them."

Johanna nodded agreement. She stayed behind the door but peeked out to watch the priest. Father MacKechnie went down the steps and shouted his greeting.

The MacInnes soldiers ignored the priest. Their expressions seemed to be set in stone. Johanna found their behavior sinful. None of the men bothered to dismount either. Didn't they realize how offending their conduct was?

Johanna turned her attention to their laird. Father MacKechnie had been right, she decided. The man did have bulging eyes. He was old, too, with wrinkled skin and thick eyebrows. His gaze was directed on Gabriel. Johanna spotted her husband walking across the clearing. He stopped when he was several feet away from the MacInnes soldiers.

The laird said something that clearly infuriated Gabriel. Her husband's expression turned dark, chilling. Johanna had never seen that look before. She shivered in reaction. Gabriel looked ready to do battle.

The MacBain warriors walked over to stand behind their laird. The Maclaurins joined them.

The MacInnes laird motioned to one of his men. The soldier quickly dismounted and strutted over to his leader's side. He looked like his laird, and Johanna thought he might be his son. She watched as he lifted the long burlap bag from his laird's lap. He adjusted the weight in his arms, turned, and walked around the front of the speckled mount. He stopped just a few feet away from Gabriel, lifted the sack, and threw it to the ground.

The bag tore open. Dust flew up in the air; and when it cleared, Johanna saw what the laird's gift was. A woman, so bloody and bruised her face was barely recognizable, spilled out and rolled onto her side. She was naked, and there wasn't a spot on her body left unmarked.

Johanna staggered back away from the door. She whimpered low in her throat. She thought she was going to throw up. She was so sickened by the sight of the broken woman, she wanted to weep with shame… and scream with fury.