“Thank you for the clothes.”
“You may thank old Maura.”
“I will, when I see her. I’m sorry for that awkward scene last night.” She managed a smile, though her heart was racing. “I fell and hit my head on my way here, and I’m afraid it left me a bit muddled. But now, after a good night’s sleep, I’m feeling much better. I’d like to fill you in on the offer my firm is prepared to make.”
“Offer? Firm? I know not these words.”
Oh, the man was good. His face had gone deliberately blank, as though he hadn’t a care in the world about the offer. Or maybe millions of dollars didn’t matter to an already wealthy man. Still, since he’d been alerted to her arrival, and the reason for her visit, he had to be aware of what her firm was planning.
Beth realized that Colin Gordon wasn’t going to make this easy for her. If she wanted to seal this deal, she would have to be every bit as cagey as he.
She pasted on her best professional smile and held out the packet of documents she’d prepared before leaving New York. “Maybe we could sit and go over these point by point.”
He led the way to a massive hand-carved desk.
Before either of them could take a seat, the door was opened and a pack of hounds burst into the room, barking, howling, and slathering as they formed a circle around their host and his guest.
Beth let out a cry of terror and cowered against the desk.
Colin gave a quiet command, and the hounds turned into a cluster of men, laughing, talking among themselves.
Beth clutched her arms to her chest, on the verge of tears. It was clear to her that the bump to her head had been much more serious than she’d first thought. She was still seeing impossible visions. And though the vision had cleared, revealing humans, she found herself questioning her sanity.
One of the men slapped a second man on the back. “Hamish here wants to bet me a hundred gold pieces that he’ll be the last man standing if ye’ll agree to a contest.”
Their host’s head came up sharply. “What sort of contest, Ian?”
Ian’s ruddy young companion was grinning from ear to ear. A toothy smile so wide, it seemed to stretch his face to the limit.
“I know ye’re planning a hunt. Hamish can best any man here.”
“Except you, m’laird,” the grinning young man added with a slight bow.
“So I’ve heard, Hamish. I am told you are the master with both dirk and longbow.”
Hamish’s smile stretched even wider. “With enough ale in me, I might even beat ye, m’laird. And I’d dearly love to double my money with Ian here.”
“What you two choose to wager is your own business.” Colin shot a knowing look at the one called Ian. “But I’ve already warned you that I’ll not pay your debts, brother.”
At his use of that term, Beth shot him a look of surprise, before reality dawned. Ian would be Colin’s stepbrother.
Colin set aside the documents Beth had given him and walked around the desk. “Since you’re dressed and eager for the day, I suggest we go to the refectory and see what Mistress MacKay has prepared.”
Beth’s heart sank. Her one moment was gone, and with it, perhaps her only chance to speak privately with Colin Gordon.
Her host turned to her. “You’re welcome to join us as we break our fast, though I assure you the other ladies are still abovestairs, as is their custom.”
Perhaps food would restore a clear mind. “Thank you. I’ll join you.”
The noisy revelers led the way from the room, and her host approached and offered his arm, indicating that he would escort her. Tentatively Beth placed a hand on his sleeve.
The heat that danced along her flesh had her looking up at him. He looked down at her in the same instant, and the feeling intensified. As if little fires were being set up and down her spine.
She saw the flash of something dark and dangerous in his eyes, and her throat went suddenly dry.
“Will you honor me by joining us in the hunt, my lady?”
There was no way she could graciously refuse her host’s offer. “I would be delighted.”
He closed a hand over hers. “I am honored.”
Walking ahead, Hamish said something before punching Ian in the arm.
Colin’s stepbrother swore good-naturedly before returning the blow to his friend’s shoulder, sending the taller man bumping against the wall.
Hamish was still rubbing a hand over the tender spot as they entered a room lined with rough wooden tables and benches. Several young women were dashing about, setting out platters piled high with slices of meat and joints of fowl. In the middle of the room stood old Maura, calling out orders and chastising any server who happened to move too slowly.
When the group of men entered, Maura called out a greeting before disappearing. Minutes later she appeared alongside a tall blue crane, its beady eyes unblinking, its head making jerking movements as it walked stiff-legged toward their host.
Beth blinked and the tall bird turned into a stick-thin woman in a long white apron, her dark hair pulled into a severe bun at the back of her head.
“Ah, Mistress MacKay.” Colin stopped, and his entire company paused at either side of a long table. “What have you prepared for my guests this morrow?”
“Fowl, m’laird. And yer favorite, warm bread puddin’.”
Beth watched as Colin’s face creased into a smile, which completely transformed him from stern warrior to dangerously handsome rogue. She couldn’t decide which one intrigued her more. She was prepared to stand toe-to-toe with the warrior. The rogue, on the other hand, presented a much greater problem. She couldn’t imagine any weapon she could use against that heart-melting smile.
“You do know how to please me, Mistress MacKay.”
“And have, since ye were a wee bairn, m’laird.”
Laughing, Colin walked to the head of the table and indicated a wooden bench to his right. He remained standing until Beth and his guests were seated.
Old Maura hurried over to ask, “Will ye have ale or mead, m’lady?”
Recalling her dream, Beth quickly discarded the idea of blood-red mead. “Ale, I believe, Maura.” She noted with a sense of unease that her host had been right when he’d warned her that she would be the only female in the room, except for those who were serving the men. “Why are the other women not here, Maura?”
The old woman whispered, “’Tis too early for highborn ladies. They prefer to break their fast in their rooms, and then allow servants to help them prepare for the day.”
“I see.” Beth glanced around. “Will they mind that I’ve joined their men?”
The old woman gave a mirthless laugh. “They’ll not give you a thought, m’lady.”
The men seated around the table were too eager making plans for the test of skills to even acknowledge the presence of a lone woman in their midst. She could have been invisible for all the interest they paid her.
“Where will we hold the contest, Ian?” one of them asked.
Colin’s stepbrother was quick to respond. “In the high meadow.”
“So far? Just below Stag’s Head Peak?” Hamish raised a brow. “We dare not tarry up there, or we could encounter the Beast.”
Ian sent him a chilling look, and in that moment he became a sly, cunning fox, his eyes alight with sudden knowledge. “The forests around the high meadow are lush with game this time of year. ’Twill be an easy matter for the lads to scare up enough quail and pheasants to make the contest interesting.”