Free Highlander Unchained by Monica McCarty Page B

bubbling in her voice. “As lovely as any lass.”
    Fitting, since Flora had dipped them in rosewater. “I thought it matched well with the embroidery,” she explained. She’d sewn large pink flowers all over his best linen shirt.
    “Which might have been fine had you not sewed the arm closed,” Gilly said.
    “And hemmed his trews too short,” Mary added.
    Not to mention the nettles that she’d aired his plaid on. It had been worth every hour of drudgery removing the prickly leaves, simply to hear the bellow.
    Ah yes, she’d been busy. But he was being infuriatingly calm about everything. No matter what she did, he demonstrated extreme patience. And steely control. Almost as if he were humoring her. Which only made her more determined to rattle him.
    She hadn’t had this much fun in years. Though admittedly she’d had lots of practice. Even as a girl, Flora had understood her place in life and rebelled—with her mother’s encouragement—against the future that seemed to be predetermined. But by the time she’d arrived at court, what had started as a way to avoid her mother’s sad fate, by discouraging suitors with harmless misdeeds, had escalated beyond her control. She didn’t need to look for trouble, it seemed to find her easily enough. Unfortunately, her reputation for mischief didn’t discourage her bevy of suitors one whit. With her fortune and connections, they’d want her even if she had horns on her head.
    But Flora intended to make sure Lachlan Maclean had no such inclinations.
    Mary shook her head. “My brother is quite particular about his weapons.”
    “Well then, won’t he be pleased to see them so bright and shiny,” Flora countered.
    “He’ll be angry,” Mary warned. “And he has squires for that.”
    “He hasn’t been angry about anything before.”
    Mary frowned. “Yes, he’s been remarkably understanding.”
    “Perhaps he feels guilty,” Flora offered.
    Gilly laughed. “I doubt that. Lachlan knows exactly what he’s doing. When he makes a decision, he never looks back.” There was more than a touch of admiration in her voice.
    “You can’t mean you think he was right to abduct me?”
    Gilly flushed, looking uncomfortable. “No. Yes…” She twisted her hands. “He has his reasons.”
    Flora decided not to press the matter. She did not want to put a wedge between the girls and their brother, even if she could. The girls idolized the laird, speaking of him in somewhat reverent tones. That he cared deeply for his two sisters was obvious, though it was equally obvious that he didn’t know how to show it. As her own brothers had done with her, he seemed to be trying to fill the position of father rather than brother. Understandable when the girls were young, perhaps, but Flora could see how desperately they wanted the teasing affection of a brother. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight. Just as she’d wanted.
    Hector she’d never spent much time with, but Rory and Alex had fostered with their uncle, the Earl of Argyll, the present earl’s father, at Inveraray Castle, and returned often when she was a young girl. Rory and Alex, both so much older than she, had tried to stand in for the father she’d never known. Looking back, Flora realized they were doing only what they thought best, but at the time she’d resented their authority when she’d wanted desperately to be one of them.
    Like her, Mary and Gilly were bound to be disappointed. Wringing affection from Coll would be like trying to squeeze water from a stone. But oddly enough, in some ways Flora found his gruff male awkwardness around his sisters charming. Watching him interact with the young girls had shown her another side of him. He was attentive and understanding, if firm, listening to their excited girlish prattle with remarkable patience. He cared. He might not like to think so, but he did.
    He was different from what she’d first thought.
    She’d often felt his gaze on her the past few days,