The Thief by Allison Butler

quietly. Her eyes met his and she gave a brisk nod. He stood, offering her his hand. ‘Come.’
    She hesitated before lightly resting her fingers across his. He closed his hand around them, felt the slight tremble in the centre of his palm. She gained her feet. He waited until she was ready to turn and face the occupants in the hall. Slipping one arm around her back, he drew her closer to his side, his hand settling at her waist.
    Scanning the sea of faces gathered before them, he found Murdoch’s and acknowledged his steward’s nod of readiness with one of his own.
    ‘It has been an interesting and eventful night,’ Lachlan began, loud and clear. ‘Much has happened and I must thank many of you for risking your lives to fight off the English scum who seem to have a taste for our prized cattle.’ Low-voiced murmurs rumbled from the crowd. ‘But once again we sent them home with naught for their efforts bar new scars they’ll likely boast to their bairns about.’ Lachlan paused as a round of laughter filled the Hall. ‘And then there are those of you who proved yourselves by dealing with an accidental fire that started in my absence.’ Kenzie’s hand flinched within his. He gently squeezed her fingers.
    ‘I’ll happily live without more such surprises,’ a clansman said in good-natured relief. A chorus of ‘ayes’ and soft chuckles followed his confession.
    Lachlan’s splayed fingers settled more comfortably on the curve at Kenzie’s waist.
    When the murmurs had quieted, he continued. ‘I’m hoping you can all stomach a different kind of surprise.’ Only the crackling flames in the hearth sounded now. ‘As some of you know, I promised my dying father I’d marry and fill the Borders with many handsome Elliot sons.’ A round of cheers filled the hall, smothering the curse uttered by his bride-to-be. She strained against his hold; he tightened his grip.
    ‘The bonny lass standing at my side is Kenzie Irvine, the woman I’ve chosen to be my wife.’ A roar of excitement echoed around the vast chamber. Lachlan peered down at the woman trying to pry his hand from her waist. ‘Hold still,’ he said through a forced smile.
    She glared up at him. ‘You were supposed to set them at ease.’
    ‘They seem happy enough to me.’
    ‘I started the fire to escape marrying you.’
    ‘If you speak a mite louder, they will all be able to hear you.’
    ‘I have nae wish to wed.’
    ‘The priest is here, and your father, and I have already agreed to the terms of our union.’
    ‘A union that will be doomed from the start.’
    ‘Only if you let it be,’ Lachlan said through gritted teeth. ‘Someone should have taken you in hand long ago.’
    ‘And you think you are that someone?’
    ‘I know it.’
    ‘You have a high opinion of yourself, then.’
    ‘Hear me well, little thief: you’ll either marry me or I’ll slip the cursed rope about your slender neck myself.’
    ‘Again, nae choice.’
    ‘Again, you should have weighed the consequences before you stole my horse.’
    As if she knew he spoke the truth, she ceased resisting him. With his free hand, Lachlan signalled to Murdoch waiting by the kitchen entrance.
    ‘Clansmen. I have another introduction to make.’ Murdoch led the priest from the kitchen located to the right of the Hall. Lundy filled the vacated doorway, doing his best to keep Ailsa, the curious Irvine maid, from sight, and doing a poor job of it. ‘I give you Father Tremayne of Dumfries,’ Lachlan announced to all as the priest approached the laird’s table.
    The man of God smiled and turned, acknowledging the clan’s rowdy welcome with a nod. The woman against his side stiffened.
    ‘‘Tis late,’ Lachlan continued, ‘but since we’re gathered, what say you to marrying us now, rather than in the morn?’
    Roaring cheers from his clan rattled the walls. The priest looked at Lachlan and Kenzie, a twinkle in his eye, a grin splitting his face. The body pressed against Lachlan’s