A Gentle Feuding Read Online Free PDF Page B

where you sit.”
    “And who is it I’m talking to?”
    “Niall Fergusson”
    “I’ve no doubt you’re a Fergusson, but which one?”
    “I’m Dugald’s son.”
    “The young laird, eh?” Jamie was surprised. “You’re a wee one, to be sure.”
    “I’m thirteen,” Niall said indignantly.
    “Are you now? Aye, I’ve heard The Fergusson tried often enough to get you ’afore you finallycame along.” Jamie chuckled. Then he groaned as his head throbbed again.
    “Are you hurt?” Niall asked with genuine concern.
    “Just a wee bump.”
    Niall fell silent as the prisoner tore apart the bird and began to eat. It was a large man he was looking down on, wrapped in a green and gold plaid with two rows of triple black stripes. His legs were long and hard-muscled, his chest wide. The plaid distorted the rest of his shape, loosely wrapped as it was, but Niall could guess by the size of him that the clothes hid a remarkably strong body. The man was young, his face smooth and boylike despite the hard jaw and firm lips, the narrow, hawklike nose. It was a face of strong character, and disgustingly handsome.
    “You’ve golden hair,” Niall said suddenly.
    Jamie grinned and looked up at the lad. “You noticed, did you?”
    “They say not many have golden hair like The MacKinnion himself.”
    “Och, well, there are those of us who can thank a Norman ancestor for golden hair.”
    “A Norman? Really? One of those who came with King Edward?”
    “Aye, a few centuries back that was. You know your history.”
    “My sister and I had a good teacher.”
    “You mean your sisters. I know. You have four of them.”
    “Only one studied with me.”
    Niall paused, angry with himself for mentioning Sheena. It would be almost sacrilegious to talk of her with this Highlander. He shouldn’t have come at all. Heaven help him if he were found! But he had been so full of curiosity that he hadn’t been able to talk himself out of it.
    “Do you know The MacKinnion well?” he asked the prisoner.
    Jamie smiled, and his face softened. “You could say I know him better than any other man knows him.”
    “Are you his brother, then?”
    “Nay. Why do you ask about him?”
    “He’s all anyone talks about. They say there’s no man braver.”
    “He will be glad to hear it.”
    “Is he as terribly mean as they say?”
    “Who says he’s mean?” Jamie grunted.
    “My sister.”
    “Your sister doesna know him.”
    “But she’s heard more stories of him than I have,” Niall replied.
    “And no doubt told you all.”
    “Nay. She didna want to frighten me.”
    “Ha! I can see she has a low opinion of me. And which sister is this?”
    But Niall didn’t answer. He was staring at the man wide-eyed, for he had caught the slip of the tongue, even though the prisoner didn’t yet realize it.
    “’Tis you!” he gasped. “You’re him! The MacKinnion. And my father doesna even know!”
    Jamie cursed himself silently. “You’re daft, lad.”
    “Nay. I heard you!” he cried excitedly. “You said, ‘She has a low opinion of me.’ Not him , you said ‘ me .’ You’re James MacKinnion!”
    “Tell me this, lad,” Jamie demanded. “What has your father planned for me?”
    “To ransom you back.”
    “And what would he be doing then if he thought I was The MacKinnion?”
    “I dinna know,” Niall said thoughtfully. “He’d probably let you go free without any demands at all. Would you no’ prefer that?”
    “Nay,” Jamie replied, surprisingly. “’Tis no’ something I’m proud of, being caught unawares, and I dinna care to hear your father gloat over it. ’Tis bad enough I’ll get all the ribbing when I’m home.”
    “There’s no shame in it,” Niall insisted. “There were five against you.”
    “Five I could’ve taken if I’d been mounted and seen them coming.”
    “How could you no’ see them on the moor?”
    “I wasna on the moor. I was in a wooded glen.”
    Niall gasped. There was only one wooded glen on