Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) Read Free Page A

would you want to be nagged by
a harping wife?”
    “My father wishes me to marry. Don’t
you want a wife? I’d get started on it—it’ll take years to find a woman who
would put up with your surliness.” Douglas laughed at his baiting. His cousin
wasn’t one to enjoy any kind of ribbing.
    “I’ve more important matters to
consider. I’ll never take a wife. I enjoy my freedom too much. Colin’s out of
his mind, putting up with Julianna’s carping—”
    “He loves her. Ye know how he feels
about her, and you do care for your sister-in-law. You’ll not tell me
otherwise.”
    “Aye, I do,” Brendan admitted. “Though
she’d try my patience were I married to her. Ye want to find a woman like her? You’ll
need be very charming, and I know how you like to tease the lassies. I don’t
have it in me to be charming like you.”
    “Not if you continue to scowl all
the time. You’ll not even get a tumble from the loose women you visit.” Douglas’
jest made his cousin grin.
    “Don’t worry for me, I get my fair
share of women.”
    Had Brendan sensed his quiet manner
on the way home? Douglas usually did laugh or jest, but he had acted
differently since their visit to the Lowlands. Brendan wasn’t ordinarily one to
converse on the subject of women, but he must have caused his cousin’s concern
by being withdrawn.
    “Aye, you’re aright. I don’t know
why I’m thinking such foolish thoughts.”
    “‘Cause you’re a fool, ye arse.” Brendan
shoved him again then nudged his horse into a gallop.
    Douglas kicked his horse’s flanks. “Aye,
I’m an arse, more than ye know,” he muttered, riding swiftly to catch up.
    He stopped suddenly, jarred when
Brendan slowed his mount and held up his arm.
    Brendan turned his horse. “Someone
comes.”
    Douglas couldn’t see the rider in
the distance, and was amazed at his cousin’s ability. Brendan’s keen hearing
must have picked up the sound of a horseman ahead. Douglas scanned the
landscape, and finally saw Gilbert riding toward them.
    “Douglas,” Gil shouted.
    “Gil, what goes?” Douglas shouted
back.
    Gil halted his mount when he
reached his side, and his face looked bleak. Douglas waited for him to catch
his breath.
    He’d taken Gil under his wing for
the past few years, yet he still needed more training to turn him into a fierce
Kerr warrior. Gil wanted to be a scholar, and always messed around with herbs
and medicinal potions. He liked to solve the unknown, riddles he’d called them.
Of course, Douglas and Brendan teased him about it often, calling him
sissified.
    “I’ve word from Cedric. Your father
is ill. It doesn’t bode well. You’ve been called home.”
    “Has he died, Gil?” Douglas almost
couldn’t get the words out.
    “Not yet, but he’s likely to. Ye
know how old he is.”
    “Brendan, do you want to ride
along?”
    “Aye, of course I do. It’s been a
long time since we visited the Kerr clan.”
    Douglas nodded, kicking his mount
into a gallop, stirring up a trail of dust. Several MacKinnon and Kerr warriors
rode with him. The warrior’s faces showed their somber regard for the journey. A
laird was dying—a solemn occasion indeed if there ever was one.
    Douglas clearly recalled the images
of his mother, father, and sister, as he rode toward home. Home. The keep and
clan were his future; he knew he must eventually face it.
    A few hours later, Douglas
approached the drawbridge and felt his tension ease when he noted the sentry
posted outside the walls. He walked into his father’s keep and saw the sullen
looking faces. He glanced around the hall for his mother. The hall hadn’t
changed in the last ten years. Everything remained as it always had. The wooden
out coves etched in an ancient scroll design still existed on the left side. The
same banners welcomed visitors. Two wolf hounds lay beside the hearth, and
several ladies congregated at the other end of the hall. All seemed normal.
    Striding to his mother, he took her
hand,