Free Highland Master by Hannah Howell

women in his family had taught him that lesson well, at an early age. Brett could not clear his mind of thoughts of her, however. Her blue-gray eyes had darkened to the gray of storm clouds. The sunlight brought out the red and gold streaking her brown hair, making it glow with warm color. Her full lips were turned down into a scowl that he ached to kiss off her mouth.
    Forcing his thoughts away from how that tempting mouth would taste, he said, “He kenned we were here. I am fair sure of it. That is exactly why he rode through the village. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of us for himself.”
    “Catching sight of ye doesnae tell him much.”
    Triona watched one of his neatly curved dark brows cock upward and the corners of his mouth lift just enough to hint at a smile. It was an arrogant look and one that gently scolded her for saying something so foolish. It irritated her, made her palm itch to slap it off his handsome face, but she knew it was also deserved. Sir John did need only one look at Sir Brett and his companions to know exactly what they were: the strong warriors that had been missing from Banuilt for so long.
    She had needed only one look to know it. They had not even had to display their fighting skills for her to know exactly what they were from the moment they rode into her bailey. It was revealed in the way they held themselves, in the way they moved, even in that arrogance that was so irritating her at the moment. It was certainly revealed in the movement of the four men who had suddenly appeared behind Sir Brett while he had confronted Sir John and now disappeared with equal stealth at just one flick of Sir Brett’s hand. Triona just wished Sir Brett had not informed Sir John of their intent to remain at Banuilt to give her aid.
    “He didnae ken for certain that ye were staying here,” she grumbled. She noticed that at some point during their talk, all the women had slipped away and started to walk back toward home. “He could have been left to think ye were naught but guests who would be leaving soon. Ye didnae have to tell him ye were here for more, and ye certainly didnae have to throw that bit of information about your horde of kin at him.”
    “Why does it trouble ye so that he now kens that we mean to aid ye?” Brett asked as he fell into step beside her. “For all he kens now, that aid could be nay more than a wee training of your men. ’Tis what we told him we would do.”
    “Something he doesnae want to happen. He is better served if my men stay just as they are—good, fierce fighters if they are pressed to be, but verra few having had any real training at all. If I soon have a weel-trained force of men, Sir John will find it a lot harder to weaken us little by little, as he does now—weaken us until we have nay choice but to do as he wishes, just to survive. Once I have weel-trained men, he could see us as a true threat to him and then the blood will flow.”
    “Have ye considered simply selling him the land he covets so much?”
    “Only for a moment. I dinnae want to, and e’en if I decided that it was the only way to put an end to this, I am nay sure I can do that. I would have to closely examine all the records Boyd had. Mayhap Sir Callum will find something when he looks them all over.” She rubbed a hand over her forehead as the hint of a headache began to form. “That wouldnae make him leave us alone anyway. ’Tis nay all he wants.”
    “He wants ye.” Brett was astonished at how angry that knowledge made him.
    Triona frowned and turned to look at him. The hard, cold anger behind those three words surprised her, as did the look of fury on his face. She firmly told herself that it meant no more than an honorable man’s outrage over Sir John’s attempts to force a woman to his will. It could even be an anger stirred by the manner in which Sir John was doing it, through the harming of her people. Many men would consider marriage to Sir John a reasonable outcome, and would