“Then there was good Queen Bess!” Alistair continued. “Good God, she ruled forever!”
“And here,” Aidan added dryly, “we had good Queen Mary, who nearly brought about the downfall of her people!”
“Ah, but good Queen Mary of Scots produced the future King James I of England, whose blood even now runs through the veins of royalty!” Shawna pointed out. “Besides, Mary might not have had quite so many problems if not for all the men conspiring behind her back.”
Shawna was startled to feel a twinge of unease as she felt all her male kin staring at her.
Did they all resent her? It seemed a pleasantly joking conversation, but was it? Gawain did seem aggravated that she had inherited the title of Lady MacGinnis and was traditional titular head of the family. He’d never hidden that fact, but it had always seemed more an annoyance to him than anything else.
Certainly it would not drive him to…
Murder.
If she died, Gawain, as the oldest of her grandfather’s surviving brothers, would inherit the title. After Gawain, Alaric, and then Alistair. And after them—unless someone was to have a child—Lowell would inherit, and after him, Aidan.
Was she a fool, believing in family, in blood? After all, there had been a man following her last night, a man who had drawn a sword…
Who had meant to kill her.
But no body had been found.
David had done away with the body. Obviously.
“Wonderful,” she murmured aloud, looking around the table. “You all resent me.”
“Nay, lass, ’tis not that,” Gawain said with a weary sigh. “Men are more likely to deal with business well, and you should be part of our business—we should be acquiring a proper and fitting husband for you and the like. What is, is, and we do well enough as a family. And we’d do well to acquire Douglas holdings. Aidan, look to our family resources and see what we could offer to buy out Douglas. Maybe he’ll want money quickly to arm his heathen family. Maybe we will have a chance. Alistair, take time to compose what we must tell him to convince him that he would be better off to leave this property and its problems to us. Alaric, take inventory of our property to see what we might sell for ready hard money.”
“Aye, Father,” Alaric agreed.
“Well,” Shawna murmured, “at least we’re planning to buy him out—rather than kill him off.”
Dead silence met her words.
Then Gawain warned angrily, “You, my dear, will mind your manners!”
“And is that my assignment in all this?” Shawna inquired.
“Nay, lass,” Gawain commanded, leaning toward her with his blue eyes bright with anger, “you will plan the homecoming for the Douglas and see to it that we offer all possible hospitality.”
“Will I?” Shawna murmured.
Aidan suddenly covered her hand with his own, and she found herself looking to this quieter, older cousin. Child of a quieter, gentler, great-uncle. His eyes were a lighter blue. and his hair was closer to auburn than the near black that graced most of the MacGinnises, as if even his coloring was of a gentler nature. “Shawna, don’t you think it a good idea that we seek to buy the Douglas property?”
“We run the property. We live and breathe and die by it. And truly, you know as well as I do, that Andrew Douglas wants to live out his days on his father’s American property.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
“Then?” her great-uncle Lowell prodded gently, lifting his wineglass to her.
They were never going to be able to buy the property because David Douglas was still alive.
“Shawna?” Aidan said, frowning.
“Yes,” she said quickly. “I—I suppose we should try to buy the property.”
“Pass the meat,” Gawain said.
Irked by her great-uncle’s peremptory manner, Shawna felt disinclined to obey even so simple a command as this one.