"Mama, wait for me," Alex shouted.

Johanna stopped at the top of the steps. Alex ran down the hallway and took hold of her hand.

"How would you like to visit Auggie this morning? Lindsay will take you over to his cottage. He'll be pleased for your company."

Alex was thrilled. Auggie had become one of his favorite companions. He eagerly nodded, let go of Johanna's hand, and ran downstairs shouting Lindsay's name.

Nicholas wasn't in the great hall. Clare called out to Johanna and motioned for her to come to the door, which she had partially opened.

"Father's here," she whispered. "Nicholas is waiting for him."

"Stay inside, Clare," Johanna ordered. "I'll try to get my brother…"

"I'm going with you," Clare announced.

Johanna didn't argue. Clare pulled the door wide and then followed Johanna outside.

It was cold and damp. The clouds were gray, and a fine mist was falling.

Laird MacKay spotted his daughter immediately and gave her a quick nod in greeting. He was still mounted on his steed, and there were at least twenty clansmen with him.

"Where's MacBain?" the laird shouted.

Nicholas waited until Clare's father had dismounted before he answered him.

"He had an important matter to take care of and left yesterday morning. I suggest you come back in two or three weeks. He should be back by then."

Laird MacKay frowned with anger. "Clare MacKay," he shouted.

"Yes, Father?"

"You married yet?"

Clare walked down the steps and started across the courtyard. Her voice held a note of fear in it when she gave her answer.

"No, Father."

"Then war it is," Laird MacKay bellowed.

The veins in the side of his neck stood out. Nicholas shook his head. "MacBain doesn't have time to war against you," he announced. "He's got another, more important battle on his hands."

MacKay didn't know if he should be insulted or not. "Who is he warring against?" he demanded to know. "The Gillevreys? Or is it the O'Donnells? They're a sneaky lot. Makes no difference which clan it is, for they're both poorly trained and can be defeated in a day's time."

"Laird MacBain went to war against England, Papa." Clare blurted out the lie.

Her announcement gained her father's full attention. "Well now, that's all right," he decided.

"Laird MacKay, you look soaked through. Won't you come inside and warm yourself by our fire?" Johanna tried to play the gracious hostess now in hopes of soothing the old man's temper. "You must be hungry after your long journey," she added as she walked down the steps.

"I ain't hungry and I can't imagine why I'd be needing to warm myself. It's hot as ever today."

"Father, please come inside."

Laird MacKay shook his head. "I won't be moving a foot until I hear the name of the man who disgraced you, Clare. I'm wanting to know who my son-in-law is, and I'm wanting to know now. Which MacBain shamed you, girl?"

"There wasn't any MacBain."

Clare's voice shook when she gave her father her answer.

Johanna tried to hush her before she could say more.

Clare shook her head. "He'll have to know," she whispered.

"What did you just say? It wasn't a MacBain?" her father demanded.

"Father, will you please listen to me," Clare implored. "I have to explain what happened."

"The only thing I'm wanting to listen to is the name of the man you're going to wed."

Nicholas hadn't said a word during the debate between father and daughter. He seemed completely unconcerned. Yet when Clare tried to walk past him to get closer to her father, he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm to keep her from going any further.

"Nicholas?" Johanna whispered.

"Hell," Nicholas muttered.

Clare was thoroughly confused by Nicholas's action. "Please let go of me," she said. "This matter doesn't involve you."

"Oh, but it does," he countered.

She shook her head. He nodded. "I'm responsible for you, Clare MacKay, and you are accountable to me. I haven't given you permission to go anywhere. Get behind me and stay there." The last of his command was given in a hard, downright mean, tone of voice.

Clare was simply too astonished to argue. She turned to Johanna for guidance. Nicholas's sister lifted her shoulders in a shrug. She looked as confused as Clare was by Nicholas's behavior.

"Do it now."

Clare obeyed the command before she had time to think about it. She moved to stand behind Nicholas, then leaned up on tiptoe so he could hear her whispered protest. "I am not accountable to you."

Nicholas didn't bother to whisper his reply. "You will be."

Clare still didn't understand what Nicholas was telling her. Johanna understood, though. She walked over to her brother. Keith appeared out of nowhere and blocked her path. He obviously didn't want her to get too close to Laird MacKay.

She tried to ignore the soldier's interference. "Nicholas? Are you certain you want to do this?"

Her brother didn't answer her. Laird MacKay strutted forward. He wanted to snatch his daughter back.

"MacBain promised me a wedding," he announced. "He's not a man to go back on his word."

"No, he isn't," Nicholas agreed. "There will be a wedding."

The laird looked appeased. He grunted low in his throat and gave a brisk nod.

"Papa, there isn't…"

"Be silent, lass, while I get my particulars," her father ordered. He kept his gaze centered on Nicholas. "And who is my future son-in-law?"

"I am."

Laird MacKay's mouth dropped open. His eyes looked as though they were going to bulge right out of his face. He shook his head in denial and took a step back in an attempt to distance himself from the Englishman.

"No!" he bellowed.

Nicholas wouldn't let the laird retreat. "Yes," he answered, his voice emphatic.

Clare grabbed hold of Nicholas's tunic and tried to pull him back. "Are you crazed?" she asked.

Johanna nudged Keith out of her way and hurried over to Clare's side. "Let go of him," she ordered.

Clare started to protest the outrageous pledge Nicholas had just given her father, but Johanna stopped her by grabbing hold of her hand and demanding in a whisper that she wait until later to argue.

"Is it a trick then?" Clare asked, thinking Nicholas might be giving the rash promise in order to stall for time.

"It could be," Johanna allowed, knowing full well her brother never said anything he didn't mean. He was going to marry Clare MacKay all right, and from the set look on his face, no one was going to stop him, not even a reluctant bride.

"You're English," the laird shouted. "It's unthinkable."

Nicholas didn't seem to be at all affected by the old man's fury. He actually smiled when he said, "I won't require a substantial dowry."

"Clare MacKay, you might as well have taken a dagger and plunged it into your father's very own heart," the laird wailed.

"But, Father…"

"Be silent."

Nicholas snapped the command. He didn't take his gaze off Clare's father when he gave his order. He waited for the angry old warrior to either pounce on him or gain control of himself.

Johanna tried to soothe Clare, but it was difficult for her to pay attention to what she was doing and keep her attention on the laird at the same time. She was mesmerized by the man's behavior. Lairds didn't weep, but this one looked like he was going to break down and cry at any moment. He was certainly having difficulty accepting Nicholas's announcement.

"An English baron wed to my daughter? I'll die first, I will."

Johanna quit rubbing Clare's shoulder and stepped forward. "A very rich baron," she blurted out.

The laird frowned at Johanna with what she thought was indignation. "Wealth is not an issue here," he muttered. "How rich?"

They were married an hour later.

There wasn't time for a celebration. Father MacKechnie had only just blessed the union when Michael came running into the great hall. He was looking for Keith or Nicholas to give his news.