CLAIMED BY A HIGHLANDER (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY Book 2) by Margaret Mallory Page A

thumb over the talisman he wore around his neck. The leathery skin of his brother’s ear served to remind him that he held the reins of the powerful MacKenzie clan, and he deserved to.
    “We must get our hands on the sister and find out what she knows,” he said. “Brian may have told her something that our spy failed to hear.”
    “He left a package of some sort with her,” Duncan said. “I’ll find that as well.”
    Hector drummed his fingers on the table. Perhaps Brian’s journey to Edinburgh was an opportunity in disguise. A sign. He smiled as a plan began to form in his mind.

CHAPTER 9
     
    Sybil sighed as she examined Margaret, who sat on the stool in front of her wearing a headdress no woman under sixty should wear. Her sister’s expression in the looking glass grew uneasy as Sybil unpinned the headdress and loosened the knot in Margaret’s hair.
    “Though, as a married woman, ye must cover your hair,” Sybil said around the pin in her mouth as she reattached the headdress farther back to show off Margaret’s lovely golden hair, “there’s no need to look like a nun.”
    When Margaret attempted to tuck the strands Sybil had just artfully loosened around her face back under the headdress, Sybil batted her hand away.
    “Do ye think William will like it?” Margaret asked.
    “The devil take William. Do you like it?”
    “Ye mustn’t be so hard on my husband,” Margaret said. “I know he seemed unwelcoming the night ye arrived, but he never meant it. Hearing of our family’s new troubles gave him a shock, that’s all.”
    Sybil had to admit that William appeared to have reconciled himself to her presence in his household in the two days since her arrival. Of course, he still grumbled occasionally, but that was his nature.
    Sybil leaned down and rested her chin on her sister’s shoulder so that their images were side by side in the mirror. They were opposites. Sybil was dark-haired and rosy-cheeked, while Margaret’s hair was the color of sunlight and her skin the palest ivory.
    “You’re the prettiest of us Douglas lasses,” Sybil said.
    Margaret laughed, but Sybil wondered why her sister seemed to make an effort to hide her beauty.
    “’Tis wonderful to have ye here.” Margaret turned on the stool and looked up at Sybil with worry creasing her brow. “But I can see that parting with your Highlander still weighs heavy on your heart.”
    “He was never my Highlander,” Sybil said, and stifled a sigh.
    “He could have been,” Margaret said. “I’ve yet to see a man who could resist you.”
    “Ha! This one left without a backward glance.” Not that Sybil blamed him. “He’s gone, so there’s no sense in giving him another thought.”
    And yet Rory was in her thoughts all the time. Fussing with her sister’s headdress was just another attempt to divert herself, and it worked no better than the others. She should not miss him this much.
    Sybil sniffed. How ridiculous. She was going to weep if they did not stop talking about him.
    She heard the loud creak of the castle gate opening, and she imagined Rory riding in. Though she knew it was not possible, she raced to the window, her heart beating fast. Margaret joined her as twenty armored men on fine horses rode into the castle.
    The queen has found me. Fear swept through her body and her limbs went weak before she noticed that the riders did not carry the royal banner.
    She was so relieved that it took her an extra moment to recognize the banner flapping in the wind. Nay, it could not be. The lead rider dismounted and stood with his hands on his hips, scanning the castle yard as if looking for someone. She groaned aloud.
    “What is James Finnart doing here?” Sybil asked.
    “I’ve no notion,” Margaret said.
    “Your wretched husband must have sent for him.” That explained why William had ceased threatening to throw her out.
    “Why would he send for Finnart when the Hamiltons are our worst enemies?”
    “I have a good