CHAPTER 6
They were gathered around the long table in the great hall—Gawain at one end, Lowell at the other, Alistair and Alaric on one side of the table, Aidan on the other with a chair at his side that awaited her. They were, as she had thought earlier, an impressive group, all of them tall, large, well-muscled men, no matter what their ages. Dark-haired, light-eyed, powerful men, sure of their purpose. Highlanders, a different breed.
They rode like the wind and could run over hills and valleys nearly as quickly as they could ride. No matter what befell the world around them, they often went their own way, bowing to authority only long enough for authority to go away. The Highlands were wild and rugged, and not for everyone, but equally, the Highlands had always been a place too difficult to tame, and the most stalwart of conquerors had often chosen to ignore them and their people rather than pay the price of trying to subdue them.
MacGinnises were proud. A part of their land.
And these fine, fierce men were her kin. Her protectors, as they saw it.
Her rulers as well, or so Gawain seemed to assume, she thought wryly.
Still, she assured herself, they all meant well. Every last one of them, no matter what the particular quirks of their individual personalities. She loved them and was proud of them.
To a man, they stood courteously when she appeared.
The table was set for supper, and the food had been served. It was obvious that Gawain had given the order to Myer, who served as butler in the castle, and Anne-Marie, his head housekeeper, that they weren’t to be disturbed during the meal.
Dirty laundry was about to be aired, Shawna decided.
But she couldn’t hover at the foot of the stairway forever, and she wasn’t afraid of facing Gawain. They argued frequently.
But tonight…
Tonight was different.
David Douglas was alive.
She walked quickly into the great hall and to the dining table.
She smiled at Aidan as she hurried around to the chair that he had pulled from beneath the table so that she could slip into it.
He smiled in return. Rather sternly.
“You’re late,” Gawain said firmly.
“Am I, Uncle? I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I don’t remember having specified a time.”
He wagged a finger at her. “Shawna, you forget, I am your great-uncle. Your father’s uncle. He entrusted your care to me. I will have your respect.”
“Will I have yours?”
Aidan, with his quiet, calm sense of responsibility, cleared his throat. “Perhaps we could fight this family battle of wills at another time. We are all Clan MacGinnis here and should respect one another.”
“Aidan is quite right,” Lowell said firmly, offering a stern glance to both his brother and his great-niece. “Now, I was underthe impression that we gathered tonight to plan for the arrival of Andrew, Laird Douglas?”
“Shawna made some decisions today without thinking to ask our advice,” Gawain said, watching her, still angry.
“I didn’t see you this morning before the blessing, and you knew last night that I had assured Mark Menzies I would have the reverend down to the mines.”
“You might have let me know you were planning on giving the men time off. What I didn’t know might have made a fine fool of me, girl.”
“I awoke late. I had no choice.”
“You had the choice to inform me.”
“I am sorry.”
“You will do so in the future.”