Part 37 (2/2)
Before the chieftain could direct them where to sit, Alex and Duncan took seats at the far end from the three la.s.ses. After a cursory prayer, wine and ale was poured, and the first courses were brought out.
Alex wanted to get their business done as soon as possible-and leave. ”Our chieftain hopes to strengthen the friends.h.i.+p between our two clans and has sent us here on a mission of goodwill,” he began.
The MacNeil kept glancing at the doorway, his face darker each time. Though he didn't appear to be listening to a word, Alex forged ahead.
”Our chieftain pledges that he will join ye in fighting the pirates who are hara.s.sing all our sh.o.r.es.”
That caught the MacNeil's attention. In a sour tone, he asked, ”Isn't it his own uncle who leads them?”
”His half uncle,” Duncan put in, as if that explained it all.
The MacNeil chief tilted his head back to take a long drink from his cup, then slammed it on the table, sputtering and choking.
Alex followed the direction of his gaze-and almost choked on his own ale when he saw the woman. Ach, the poor thing had suffered the worst case of pox Alex had ever seen. The afflicted woman crossed the room at a brisk pace, her gaze fixed on the floor. When she took the place at the end of the table next to Alex, he had to move over to make room for her. She was quite stout, though not in a pleasing sort of way.
Alex tried not to stare at the pockmarks when he turned to greet her. But he couldn't help it. G.o.d's bones, these weren't old scars-the pox were still oozing! Blood never troubled him at all, of course, but he was a wee bit squeamish about oozing sores.
”I am Alexander MacDonald.” He put on a bright smile for her, which she missed altogether because she kept her gaze on the table before her.
He waited, but when she didn't introduce herself, he asked, ”And you are?”
”Glynis.”
Since she refused to look at him, Alex could stare freely. The longer he looked, the more certain he was that the pockmarks weren't oozing-they were melting. Amus.e.m.e.nt tugged at the corners of his mouth.
”I confess, ye have me curious, Glynis,” he said, leaning close to her ear. ”What would cause a la.s.s to give herself pockmarks?”
Glynis jerked her head up and stared at him. Despite the distracting red boils that were easing their way down her face, Alex couldn't help noticing she had arrestingly beautiful gray eyes.
”It is unkind to poke fun at a lady's unfortunate looks,” she said.
It was disconcerting to hear such a lovely voice come out of that alarming face. Alex let his gaze drift over her, taking in the graceful swan neck and the long, slender fingers clenching her wine cup.
”Your secret is safe with me, la.s.s,” Alex said in a low voice. ”But I suspect your family already knows it's a disguise.”
He was hoping for a laugh, but he got none.
”Come,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. ”Ye must tell me why ye did it.”
She took a deep drink from her wine, then said, ”So ye wouldn't want to marry me, of course.”
Alex laughed. ”I fear ye went to a good deal of trouble for no purpose, for I have no intention of leaving here with a wife. But does it happen to ye often that men see ye once and want to marry ye?”
”My father says men are fools for beauty, so I couldn't take the risk.”
The woman said this with utter seriousness. Alex hadn't been this amused in some time-and he was a man easily amused.
”No matter how lovely ye are beneath the padding and paste,” Alex said, ”ye are quite safe from finding wedded bliss with me.”
She searched his face intently, as if trying to decide if she could believe him. The combination of her sober expression and the globs sliding down her face made it hard not to laugh, but he managed.
”My father was certain your new chieftain would want a marriage between our clans,” she said at last, ”to show his goodwill-after the trouble caused by the MacDonald pirates.”
”Your father isn't far wrong,” Alex said. ”But my chieftain, who is also my cousin and good friend, knows my feelings about matrimony.”
Alex realized he'd been so caught up in his conversation with this unusual la.s.s that he'd been ignoring her father and the rest of the table. When he turned to join their conversation, however, he found that no one else was talking. Every member of Glynis's family was staring at them.
Alex guessed this was the first time Glynis had tried this particular method of thwarting a potential suitor.
Glynis nudged him. When he turned back to her, she nodded toward Duncan, who, as usual, was putting away astonis.h.i.+ng quant.i.ties of food.
”What about your friend?” she asked in a low voice. ”Is he in want of a wife?”
Duncan only wanted one woman. Unfortunately, that particular woman was living in Ireland with her husband.
”No, you're safe from Duncan as well.”
Glynis dropped her shoulders and closed her eyes, as if he'd just told her that a loved one she'd feared dead had been found alive.
” 'Tis a pleasure to talk with a woman who is almost as set against marriage as I am.” Alex lifted his cup to her. ”To our escape from that blessed union.”
Glynis couldn't spare him a smile, but she did raise her cup to his.
”How could ye tell my gown was padded?” she asked.
”I pinched your behind.”
Her jaw dropped. ”Ye wouldn't dare.”
”Ach, of course I would,” he said, though he hadn't. ”And ye didn't feel a thing.”
”How did ye know I didn't feel it?” she asked.
”Well, it's like this,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. ”A pinch earns a man either a slap or a wink, and ye gave me neither.”
She gave a laugh that was all the more lovely for being unexpected.
”Ye are a devil,” she said and poked his arm with her finger.
That long, slender finger made him wonder what the rest of her looked like without the padding. He was a man of considerable imagination.
”Which do ye get more often, a wink or a slap?” she asked.
” 'Tis always a wink, la.s.s.”
Glynis laughed again and missed the startled looks her father and sisters gave her.
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