Free Claimed by a Laird by Laura Glenn Page B

actually condoning it?
    “So why did you not do that?”
    Geoffrey’s mouth broke into a sheepish grin. “I promised Annabelle
a cow of her own.”
    “What?” asked Adam, taking a threatening step toward him.
    “If you had ever tasted the lass’s cheese,” Geoffrey
explained with a faraway smile, seemingly unconcerned by Adam’s menacing stare.
“If angels made cheese, it would taste like hers. I swear on my life it would.”
    “Cheese,” Galen repeated, deadpan.
    Geoffrey nodded earnestly.
    “I exchanged my life for yours and sat in a dungeon for two
days so you could get cheese from a milkmaid?”
    Geoffrey’s cheeks reddened as his expression fell.
    Adam crossed his arms, mimicking his laird’s stance.
“Methinks the lass promised you a bit more than cheese, did she not? Obviously,
I have not kept you busy training as I should have.”
    Geoffrey cast his gaze to the side, but not before Anna
caught what she was certain was a secretive twinkle in his eyes.
    She pursed her lips to prevent her building laughter from
escaping her throat. Guilt set in over finding the whole situation so amusing,
especially since it could very well have cost Galen his life.
    That thought brought back to mind her collection of food for
Galen. She quickly excused herself and turned to find several men waiting to
hand her some of their provisions.
    “I have some cheese, my lady,” Geoffrey called from behind.
     
    Warmth surged through Galen’s chest. Despite her highly
irregular behavior at interrupting his discussion with his warriors, he was
impressed by how effortlessly she had taken charge and thrown out orders that
were immediately obeyed by his men. A vague sense of rightness settled in his
chest and he smiled. Yes, Anna would make an excellent laird’s wife.
    Her soft voice floated on the breeze. “ Tapadh leibh ,”
she repeated in Gaelic with a smile to each man bringing her donations.
    Gaelic? He replayed her voice in his head several times and
each time the words resonated louder and louder. A strange coldness seeped into
his heart. He had assumed her only language to be English simply because that
is what she had spoken to him. He had never thought to ask her otherwise.
    Adam slapped Galen on the back. “Lucky bastard,” he quipped,
nodding toward Anna. “It is not often a woman like that practically lands in
your lap. The men are already taken with her, especially since she is thanking
them in our language. Did you teach her that?”
    Galen shook his head, his hands balling into fists.
    Adam shrugged. “I guess she picked it up from one of the
men.”
    “Yes, that must be it,” Galen murmured. His eyes narrowed
when she said the words again. Her pronunciation was somehow a little too
perfect for someone who was not a native speaker.
    “Are we going to have problems with her family?” Adam asked
in a low tone. “You did not mention to whom she belongs and I assume you had
not time to request their permission to keep her.”
    Damn the woman.
    She had sidestepped giving him the name of the Scottish
family of which her father was a member. He glanced toward his smirking friend
and could not help but relax into a smile of his own. Brushing aside his sudden
doubt about Anna, he shrugged in feigned disinterest. “She was abandoned by her
father long ago. Her mother is of no threat to us.”
    “You do not think the English king will take issue just to
start a war?”
    Galen snorted. “I doubt he is even aware of her existence,
considering the fact her mother owns no property.”
    Adam nodded, apparently satisfied by the explanation.
    Galen turned his attention back to Anna, his jaw clenched
tightly. Lying to the one person who had been by his side since childhood and
always stood by him in the heat of battle, settled like a rock in his gut. He
was only protecting Anna. There was no need for Adam to know any more than
necessary.
    “But I still do not understand how she got into the Graham
holding,” Adam