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Page 46
Page 46
“Yes. Julia MacNeill of Argent Castle.”
Another long silence. Did he not know Ian MacNeill, or was he on the outs with them, too?
“Okay, well, if I don’t get a chance to see you before you return home, I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
“Do you want me to tell him to get lost?” Grant asked loud enough that she was certain that Archibald had heard him with his wolf hearing.
“If Grant gives you any trouble at all, I’ll take him to task,” Archibald said in a very nice way.
But she didn’t think he would deal with Grant in a nice way if she asked Archibald to help her out.
“Did you know anything about Grant’s parents’ deaths?” she asked.
“I knew it. He’s been filling your head with stories of how the Borthwicks did terrible things. But John MacQuarrie was a lying bastard who stabbed my grandfather, Uilleam, in the back. I know that the MacQuarries have always claimed they had managed the estates for the Playfairs from the beginning. But it’s all a lie. Uilleam was their first manager—but John did everything in his power to turn Gideon and Neda Playfair against him. Ask Grant about that. I’m sorry that you’ve had to hear all the lies. I had hoped we could talk so you could learn the truth. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can talk.”
He ended the call and she looked at Grant. “Why would he say that Uilleam was the first manager of Farraige Castle?”
“Trying to get you to believe we’ve lied about everything? Spreading the seeds of doubt? You are already worried we’ve told you a lie, lass. Isn’t that so?”
***
When they arrived at Argent Castle, Grant was still disconcerted about Archibald’s claims and didn’t believe them, but what bothered him was that Colleen seemed to think he might be telling the truth.
Ian greeted them with a gaggle of women. Julia, Ian’s mate, was all decked out in a pirate-wench costume. Grant raised his brows to see the redhead with her curls tied back with a black-and-white bandana, and wearing a low-cut white blouse with voluminous sleeves and a gold corset that emphasized her breasts. A long, full skirt and boots finished the look.
Shelley, Duncan’s mate was similarly dressed, except all in blue and silver. Grant recalled that the lass had caught Duncan’s eye because of all the silver she wore, and other reasons, of course. As Ian’s youngest brother, he had made a fine catch. Werewolves were not fond of silver. The ancient tale that silver bullets could kill still pervaded their beliefs, so Grant knew she had to be a spitfire.
The real pirate of the bunch, or at least where her relations were concerned, was Cearnach’s mate, Elaine. Cearnach was second in charge of the MacNeill pack. Her uncles had stolen Cearnach’s sword when he was a strapping lad, and now she wore it fastened at her side.
Grant was surprised to see Ian’s mother and aunt arrive in full costume as they greeted Colleen as well. Their costumes were not as busty as the younger women’s were, but they were all decked out in long skirts, fancy three-corner hats topped with outrageous feathers, and Ian’s mother had a sgian dubh, the knife sheathed at her waist. Grant recognized the handle as one Cearnach had hand-carved.
Even Heather, Ian’s unmated cousin, was in attendance. She wore a Scottish version of a pirate’s costume in plaid.
“Looks like we should be armed as well, or the lasses are sure to steal anything that is not bolted down,” Grant said, wanting to enjoy the goings-on and not waste another minute thinking about Archibald and his attempt to upset Colleen.
She looked like she had forgotten the conversation completely and was enjoying being with the other women already.
Colleen offered him a glorious smile, and he smiled at her in return. The ladies all chuckled, then Julia took Colleen’s hand and Shelley grasped her other, and they hurried her back into the keep.
“I don’t have a costume,” she said.
“We’ll fix you right up,” Heather said.
In a normal situation, Grant would not have cared anything about what the women were up to and would have been pleased to visit with Ian and his brothers. But he was dying to know what the lasses had in mind. As much fun as they looked like they could have, he wanted to join them. He would be the sword-wielding Highland pirate, and the wenches would be his to command. Especially Colleen, as he suspected she would fight him every step of the way, and he loved a challenge.
Ian slapped his back. “Come. We will see them later.”
“Colleen said they would be busy all day and through the night and tomorrow as well,” Grant said.
“Aye, but you wouldn’t let that stop you from raiding their party sometime later when they’re least expecting it, would you?” Ian asked.
“I like the way you think, Ian,” Grant said and joined the brothers in the great hall. He half expected the women to be in there. “Where are they?” he asked when he saw that it was empty.
Cearnach motioned toward the kitchen. “In the garden room outside. They’ve closed all the blinds and it’s their pirates’ hideaway.”
“They’ve never done this before?” Grant asked, wondering what he was in for if Colleen decided to do this with the women at his castle.
“Nay. First time. Apparently Colleen and Julia did this regularly with their girlfriends back home. Do you remember Calla? The wedding and party planner?”
“Aye. She saved Cearnach from drowning when he was a lad. And he saved her from a bad marriage.”
“Well, she’s planned most of the activities. So no telling what they’ll be up to,” Ian said. “Let’s retire to the living room and have something to drink and plan our own adventures.”
Grant noted the evil look of pleasure on his friend’s countenance. His brothers shared the same expression. Guthrie, Ian’s brother, quickly joined them in the direction of the study. “I overheard the lasses say they were going on a boxer raid.”
“As opposed to a panty raid?” Cearnach asked. “What do they propose to do with our shorts?”
“They won’t bother with mine,” Guthrie said, sounding relieved.
“Not mine, either. Too far for them to go to fetch a pair,” Grant said, just as thankful.
“That leaves us,” Ian said to Cearnach and Duncan. “But, Guthrie, I wouldn’t be so sure about your clothes.”