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“Aye,” he finally muttered. “Agreed. But poor Georgie….”

Caspian slapped him lightly on the cheek. “Not a-now,” he said. “Let us go inside first. Just breathe, Jamie. We’ll help ye think this through.”

They forced him to walk, all three of them, forcibly escorting him through the gatehouse where a host of de Lohr and Four Crosses soldiers were watching the four men with a great deal of curiosity and concern.

It was clear that these men had told Jamison something quite devastating because he had vomited and raged all in a short span of time, so clearly, something was greatly amiss.

Once inside the bailey, however, it came apparent to Beaux and Kendrick and Caspian that things were not normal.

From what they heard from de Lohr, Four Crosses had been under siege and suffering a great deal of trouble, but the bailey didn’t look that way at all.

It looked as if some kind of events were happening because there looked to be an arena near the troop house with archery targets and other things going on.

It was, truthfully, difficult to tell but it looked to them like something of a party.

This didn’t look like a beaten castle. Curious, Beaux pointed to the arena.

“What goes on here, Jamie?” he asked.

Jamison, still pale with rage and grief, turned a disinterested eye to the activities. “A festival tae build morale,” he said. “Four Crosses has suffered a good deal of warfare over the past several months and we thought tae….”

He stopped, coming to a halt and gazing off towards the arena.

His three friends looked, too, simply to see what he was looking at.

It was then that the men saw a woman in a green dress emerge from the crowd and head in their direction.

But it wasn’t just any woman; full-breasted and long of torso, she drew closer and they could see just how beautiful she was.

A stunning beauty, in fact, and it was clear that Jamison’s attention was on her.

When the woman saw that the attention was on her, she smiled hesitantly as she drew near. Although she looked at the three men she didn’t recognize, her focus was mainly on Jamison. In fact, she peered rather closely at him.

“Jamison?” she asked, her voice sweet and deep. “Is everything well? Why did you leave? You know they will not start the hammer throw without you.”

Jamison looked at Havilland, sick and torn.

He’d never wanted to be held more in his life at the moment, held by her and comforted.

God, he needed it badly, but pride kept him from collapsing against her.

He knew his friends wouldn’t think poorly of him if he did, but he didn’t want the men of Four Crosses to see him.

He’d already put on too much of a display as it was.

“Lady Havilland,” he said, indicating the men standing around him.

“I would like tae introduce ye tae men who are closer tae me than brothers. Sir Beaux MacKay, Sir Kendrick Sutherland, and Sir Caspian Ross. Lads, this is Lady Havilland de Llion, eldest daughter of Sir Roald de Llion, commander of Four Crosses Castle.”

Havilland dipped her head politely at the men in turn.

She would have tried to curtsy but she’d never really done anything like that in her life and she was certain that she would topple herself, so nodding her head had to suffice.

But as Jamison introduced them, a recollection occurred to Havilland, one of the very first conversations she’d ever had about Jamison back when they had first met.

Tobias had told her about Jamison and his three companions who used to terrorize the young squires and pages at Lioncross Abbey, back in the days when these men were young and in training.

Munro, Sutherland, Ross, and MacKay, Tobias had said.

It occurred to Havilland that she was looking at the very men he had spoken of.

“The Lions of the Highlands,” she murmured, looking over the four of them.

Looking at them, tall men with big muscles and an untamed look about them, she could utterly see why they earned that name.

“I was told about you but I had no idea you were coming to Four Crosses. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

The four men chuckled to varying degrees. “So our reputation precedes us, does it?” Beaux asked, looking at Jamison. “What did ye tell her?”

Jamison shook his head, looking rather surprised. “I never told her about the Lions,” he said, looking at her curiously. “Someone else must have.”

Havilland nodded. “Tobias did,” she said. “Back on the very first day we met. Do you recall? I tried to kill you and you spanked me. Then Tobias told me about you and your Highland brothers. He told me that the four of you were the most powerful clan sons in all the Highlands.”

Kendrick and Caspian puffed up, taking pride in a reputation that had obviously spread, but Beaux was looking at the lady with a shocked expression. “You tried to kill Jamie?” he clarified.

Havilland chuckled softly, eyeing Jamison, who was also grinning in spite of himself. “I tried,” she said. “It was a confusing day, in the midst of a battle. I mistook him for the enemy.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth but Jamison allowed her that small little lie, perhaps to save her pride. Perhaps it was to save his. In any case, the more he looked at her, the more proud and pleased with the woman he felt.

Introducing her to his friends had been a monumental moment for him because as he’d done it, he’d experienced feelings he’d never felt before.

He was announcing to the world that she belonged to him and that made him feel whole, complete.

This beautiful woman whom he wanted to marry so badly, whom he was coming to depend on.

Reaching out, he took Havilland’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow, a decidedly possessive gesture. He faced his friends.

“Ye should know that I have asked Havilland tae be me wife,” he said, looking at the woman who was smiling openly at him. “Any woman who would attack me with a sword is a brave woman, indeed. She impressed me so much that I had no choice but tae marry her.”

He expected congratulations. What he received was a myriad of blank and, in Kendrick’s case, shocked expressions.

As if they didn’t understand what he had just said.

But as he looked at the three, it began to occur to him that these weren’t expressions of shock.

They were expressions of dismay. He frowned.

“Have ye nothing tae say tae that?” he said. “I am telling ye that I have asked this woman tae marry me and she has agreed. Ye have agreed, have ye not?”

He looked at Havilland when he asked the question and she nodded, smiling, completely oblivious to the meaning of the expressions on the others. Not knowing them, she had no idea that the lack of a congratulatory word wasn’t normal.

“I did agree, although I doubt you would have let me refuse, in any case,” she said, jesting with him. “I do not suppose you would have let me think on it.”

“Never.”

She giggled and Jamison grinned, but he was concerned that his friends had said nothing about his impending marriage. In fact, they were now looking at each other in confusion and Jamison was rather hurt by their response. Hurt turned into disappointment and a little bit of anger.

“Still no word of happiness?” he said, facing Beaux. “Why not? Because she’s not Scots? I dinna think that sort of thing mattered tae ye, Beaux. Ye, of all people.”

Beaux quickly shook his head, seeing that Jamison was offended by their restraint. “’Tis not that at all, Jamie,” he said hesitantly. “What we told ye outside the gatehouse… there is more tae the story. We shouldna speak of it in front of the lady.”

Jamison frowned, completely puzzled. “And why not?” he wanted to know. “She is tae be me wife. I will keep no secrets from her.”

Havilland, coming to sense that there was something odd and even depressing afoot, put her hand on Jamison’s arm. “’Tis all right,” she assured him. “I… I will go back to the arena and watch the hammer throw while you speak to your friends. Shall I tell them you will not be participating?”

Jamison was growing more inflamed by the moment. He held fast to her, not letting her leave, while he faced Beaux. He believed his friends were discriminating against her and he was deeply disappointed.

“Ye will tell me why ye havena congratulated me on me impending marriage,” he said, “but know if ye say one bad thing about Lady Havilland, ye’ll not like me reaction. I wouldna think ye small enough tae denounce her for the country she was born in, Beaux.”

Beaux found himself on the defensive. “I told ye ’tis not that at all,” he insisted. “I dunna care if the lass is from Wales. It makes no difference tae me. All I care for is yer happiness and if ye say she is the lass o’ yer dreams, then I’m happy for ye. But….”

Jamison’s eyebrows flew up. “But what ?” he demanded.

Beaux sighed heavily, looking at Kendrick and Caspian, once again, for silent support in what needed to be said. Jamison wasn’t making it easy in the least and they didn’t want to speak of this in front of the woman he’d just introduced as his betrothed, but he wasn’t giving them much choice.

“Please, Jamie,” he begged one last time. “In private, if ye will.”

“Tell me now. I’ll not hide anything from her.”

Beaux rolled his eyes, perturbed at the stubborn stance, when Caspian finally spoke up.

“Jamie, it has nothing tae do with yer lass,” he said.

“She’s a beautiful woman and ye deserve yer happiness.

But with Georgie’s passing, that means ye’re now the heir, and with that role comes responsibilities. ”

Jamison eyed Caspian. “I realize that,” he said, offended that they evidently thought he didn’t know his role. “I know me responsibilities.”