,” Rory complained defensively, but he smiled as he said it. Nicholas sighed. The lass had snared the Scot, no doubt of it.
“Maelcolm Beg is on his way home,” William said, speaking of the Laird of Drymen. “Ye’ll be dealing with Da when he arrives.”
Rory snorted rudely, blowing blood. “Take the devil,” he complained. “He’s taken credit for what Malcolm done at Bannockburn.”
William smiled modestly. “Not true. He has explained that Mal invented the caltrops; they did a fine job on the English did they not?”
Nicholas looked at Malcolm in surprise. “That was your idea? The weapon decimated the English cavalry!”
Mary looked at them in confusion. “What are caltrops?”
Malcolm grinned at Mary from over his shoulder. “Those strange knee high cross pieces ye asked me about nigh a month ago. We buried them in the field before the battle and they were enough to trip up a few horses, cleaving a few English on the way down.” He chuckled in glee.
“And the Thane of Drymen has been awarded for such glorious work,” William added. “He’s been given lands in Perth by Robert himself, if ye haven’t heard.”
Rory looked at Malcolm speculatively and then at Nicholas. “Leave us; I would have a word with our Highlander.”
Malcolm stared at Nicholas for a moment and then stepped back. Nicholas nearly slid down the door but managed to catch himself before doing so. Mary opened her mouth to argue but when Rory pointed at the door, she snorted and stalked out behind Malcolm. William took a moment longer, glancing between the two men and then with a nod at Rory left as well, closing the door quietly behind him.
Rory touched his nose gingerly. “I’ll repay this as I said,” he promised.
“I’ve no doubt.” Nicholas agreed.
“So, in bit of trouble, lad? Family’s on the way and here ye are stuck and wounded.”
“I’ll be gone, trust me.”
“Ye cannot run forever, man.”
Nicholas could and probably would. Defying Donald Mackay would take as long.
“I’ve got a proposition for ye.”
“You’re in as enough trouble of your own, defiling a noble lass,” Nicholas shook his head, “no matter how pretty, was foolish.”
“Aye, but I’m thinking she’s worth it,” Rory replied.
The man had been hit one too many times over the head.
“It’s not a bad way to go, lad.”
“You are mad!” Nicholas declared.
“Aye, so I am. To prove it, here is my plan. Ye cannot avoid yer Da forever or his plans for hookin’ ye up with some lass ye don’t want.”
“Aye,” Nicholas snarled. “So what?”
“Well, the best way to rout that idea is to choose yer own lass first.”
Nicholas sniffed and then looked at Rory warily.
“Aye, ye know what I mean. Moreover, it solves our Mary’s problem just as well. She’s avoided marrying anyone Maelcolm Beg has offered, has had the man wrapped around her finger for some time. But unbeknownst to the lass, Da’s made an offer to wed her off and it’s been accepted.”
“Mary doesn’t know?” Nicholas found the thought irritating.
“Not yet, we haven’t had the heart to tell her. The man’s nigh sixty if he’s a day.”
“Good lord,” Nicholas said with feeling.
“Aye, a bit of revenge I think, from Da. But it ties us in with another feudal clan, all for the family duty and all that, which ye know only too well.”
Nicholas only growled.
“So,” Rory continued, rising to stand unsteadily in front of Nicholas. “If ye were to harry off with my sister, harming her not, mind ye,” Rory added with a stern look. “She’d be compromised, forced to marry you, and avoid the nasty old get Da wants for her.”
Nicholas couldn’t fault Rory’s insane plan.
“And, to top it off, binding with a Mackay is not all bad.” Rory stopped to stare intently at Nicholas. “My pay back, Nicholas Mackay, ye’ll compromise my lass without breaking her heart. She’ll be furious at ye, surely and ye can then leave and we’ll set her up in these new lands Da has accepted.