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brODIE’S GAZE WIDENED.

The woman was gaping at him as if one of the fairy folk had just stepped out of the forge and stridden toward her. He should have been amused, flattered even, at her open-mouthed stare. Instead, his pulse quickened, and he found himself staring right back at her.

She was a pretty wee thing with hair the color of ripe wheat.

Part of her golden mane had been pulled back from her face in an elaborate braid that crowned her head while the rest tumbled down her back in heavy curls.

Her body, clad in a fine blue surcote, was small yet compact, and a man would have been blind not to notice the lush bosom swelling beneath the expensive damask.

But it was her face that held his attention, with her huge grey eyes, the color of steel; a small, slightly upturned nose; and full, pillowy lips the color of a rose.

By God, she’d be delicious to kiss.

Catching himself, Brodie folded his arms across his chest, even as he continued to eye her.

This was the Forbes clan-chief’s daughter—the woman Bonnie had gone on about for months now. The whole broch knew of her imminent arrival. It wouldn’t do to ogle her as if she were a tavern wench looking for a tumble.

“Greetings, Lady Greer.”

Her throat worked, those luscious lips closing. “Good eve,” she replied huskily.

Brodie’s stomach tightened. That voice, lower in timbre than he’d expected, was indecently sensual.

He realized then that both Kerr and Rose were watching him and Greer with slightly bemused expressions on their faces.

Like him, they weren’t sure what had come over Brodie and their guest. However, Brodie was spared any further awkwardness by a woman’s excited voice, ringing across the barmkin. “Greer! At last!”

Bonnie Mackay swept down the steps from the broch, her flame hair flying like a flag behind her. Most wedded women wore their hair up, and the laird’s wife did on occasion. The rest of the time, she left it loose, much to her mother-by-marriage’s annoyance.

Greer’s attention snapped away from Brodie, her expression changing. Pure, unfiltered joy rippled over her face as she rushed forward to meet her friend.

Brodie watched as they hugged, surprised by the depth of emotion between the two women. They’d only met once, nearly a year ago now at Castle Varrich, if he recalled. Nonetheless, both Bonnie and Greer’s eyes shone with tears as they parted.

“I’m so glad ye came,” Bonnie gasped. “I worried that yer kin might forbid it.”

“My parents were reluctant to let me go,” Greer admitted with a wry smile, “but my persistence paid off in the end.”

Gripping her friend’s hand, Bonnie turned to where Kerr, Rose, and Brodie looked on. “Ye have already made introductions?”

Greer nodded, her pewter gaze flicking Brodie’s way once more. “Aye.”

“Greetings, Lady Greer.” Iver descended the steps now, although with far more nonchalance than his wife. “It’s a pleasure to see ye again.”

“Mackay,” Lady Greer replied with another dazzling smile and a nod.

Brodie’s gaze never left her face. The lass wasn’t a raving beauty, for her features were too oversized to make her so, yet she emanated a quality that made it difficult to look away.

Lady Greer motioned then to the party standing patiently in the barmkin behind her.

“Apologies … I have forgotten my manners,” she said in that low voice that hit Brodie straight in the gut.

“May I introduce Captain Errol Forbes, who leads my escort … and his men.” She then gestured to the brown-haired woman, around ten years her elder, who stood beside a fat bay garron. “And this my maid, Inghinn.”

“Welcome to Dun Ugadale,” Iver said, favoring the newcomers with a warm smile. He then nodded to Kerr, who stepped forward, leaving Rose’s side.

“Come,” Kerr said to Errol. “I’ll show ye where to stable yer horses.”

Deciding that the time had come for him to also take his leave, Brodie stepped back. Now that the excitement of Lady Greer’s arrival was subsiding, he was keen to return to work. He didn’t belong here anyway, and suddenly felt out of place, like a cuckoo in a dunnock’s nest.

Such a woman was beyond his reach. Lady Greer’s apparent interest in him would wane soon enough—especially when she discovered that he was the Mackay bastard. Bonnie clearly hadn’t told her about him. And why would she?

“I shall host a special supper in the hall this eve, Lady Greer.” Iver’s voice forestalled Brodie’s departure. “And all my kin shall be in attendance to give ye a proper Mackay welcome.”

Irritation speared Brodie at these words, even as he turned and strode back toward his forge. He had a set of knives to finish for a hunter who’d be passing through Dun Ugadale the following day.

It looks like I’ll be working through the night instead to get the job done , he thought sourly.

Brodie had planned to skip supper to get them finished in time, yet he wouldn’t disappoint Iver. He didn’t like letting any of his brothers down. Nonetheless, he hated formal gatherings. They just served to make him feel out of place, to remind him that he’d never really belong in this world.

“What do ye think of our new guest?”

Kerr handed Brodie over the jug, catching his eye as he did so.

Brodie’s mouth pursed. He hadn’t missed the teasing edge to his brother’s voice. After the incident in the barmkin earlier, he’d expected this. Kerr wasn’t a fool. He’d seen the long—and wholly inappropriate—look that passed between Brodie and Lady Greer.

Brodie glanced then, up the table to where the lady in question sat with Bonnie and Iver. The laird’s wife and her guest were laughing and talking animatedly, while Iver seemed content to listen—not that he could have gotten a word in anyway. The women were twittering like two robins.

“She’s certainly … exuberant ,” he replied schooling his face into a slightly amused expression he knew would frustrate his earnest elder brother.

Yet Kerr didn’t bite this evening. These days, now that he was wed to the woman he’d spent years pining for, his brother was much harder to rile.

Even so, Kerr’s sea-blue eyes narrowed a fraction. “She certainly feasted her eyes on y e earlier.”

Brodie huffed a laugh as his belly tightened. “Ye know how it is with the lasses. They like a bit of blacksmith brawn.”

Kerr snorted. “Conceited ass.” He paused then, a smile tugging at his lips. “May I point out that ye didn’t exactly look away either.”

Brodie took a gulp of cool ale. Despite his devil-may-care front, he wasn’t enjoying this exchange and wished Kerr would turn to Rose and talk to her instead. “Aye, well, she’s comely enough,” he replied, deliberately lowering his voice to a drawl. “I like a pretty face as much as the next man.”

Kerr muttered something under his breath, yet Brodie didn’t catch the insult.

It was loud in the hall, for long rows of trestle tables lined the rectangular space, accommodating both the Dun Ugadale Guard and the Forbes warriors.

Brodie sat at the laird’s table at the far end of the hall, upon a raised dais next to the great hearth.

The fire hadn’t been lit this eve, for the weather was balmy at present.

Nonetheless, the air was stuffy, and the aroma of suet pastry and rich grouse wafted through the space as Cory and his kitchen hands brought out pies.

The cook had been given little time to prepare this supper, yet somehow, he’d managed to put on a delicious spread.

Brodie had seen the gamekeeper drop off the grouse that morning, but he’d imagined they’d be served the following day.

Instead, the kitchen had clearly been in a frenzy plucking, gutting, and roasting the birds for the meal.

A pie landed in front of Brodie, and he tucked in, careful not to burn his mouth on the hot filling. Likewise, around him, everyone else concentrated on their supper. And, thankfully, Kerr had turned back to his wife.

As he ate, Brodie’s gaze traveled up the table, taking in the familiar faces of his kin.

He missed seeing Lennox and Davina among them.

He knew they were happy at their new home on the shores of Loch Lussa, and that they would be arriving the next day.

However, the broch didn’t feel quite right whenever Lennox was absent.

Irritated that he was missing his brother so keenly, Brodie took another pull of ale.

His love for his three elder brothers was his one weakness, his Achilles’ heel. Iver, Lennox, and Kerr were his family, and he was fiercely loyal to them. Aye, they were only his half-brothers, yet the bond he felt was as strong as if they shared the same mother as well.

However, they didn’t.

Brodie stiffened as his attention shifted to the woman seated at the far end of the table. Sheena Mackay, his stepmother, ate silently, her posture ramrod stiff, her expression veiled.

As always, her appearance was impeccable.

Her white hair—which had once been ice-blonde like Iver and Kerr’s—was pulled back into a severe bun, highlighting her high cheekbones.

She’d worn one of her finest surcotes, sea-green, for this occasion.

No doubt, she wanted to make a good impression on the clan-chief’s daughter.

Brodie’s mouth twisted, and he glanced down, digging his spoon into the pie once more.

Of course, Sheena would value Greer Forbes’s opinion of her. His stepmother cared much about impressing her betters. He guessed that she’d always hoped to marry better than she had. A chieftain wasn’t good enough—a clan-chief would have been worthier.

Brodie took a mouthful of pie and chewed. However, the food had now turned to ashes in his mouth.

Instead, she wed a chieftain who fell in love with a cook and sired a bastard.

Aye, Brodie was a thorn in Sheena Mackay’s side from the moment he’d come out into the world. How she would’ve loved to have cast him out of Dun Ugadale—but first his father, and then Iver, had forbidden her to do so.

A burst of laughter from farther up the table drew Brodie’s eye once more, pulling him out of his bitter brooding.

Bonnie was telling a story, gesticulating with her eating knife as she spoke, while Greer giggled uncontrollably. The two women got on as well as if they’d known each other since childhood. Bonnie looked delighted to finally have her new friend here.

Brodie’s attention shifted to the clan-chief’s daughter then.

Lady Greer had a light-hearted way about her. She radiated sunshine and joy. Even Sheena’s usually forbidding expression softened when the lass flashed a smile her way.

Brodie’s mouth thinned as his gaze lingered upon her. Of course, Greer Forbes came from a sheltered, pampered world. Brodie wagered she’d never suffered hardship of any kind. It was easy to smile, to bestow kindness, in such circumstances.