X Marks the Scot by Victoria Roberts

and simply turned and strutted out with pure male satisfaction.
    Liadain stared tongue-tied at the closed door. Her embarrassment quickly turned to raw fury. He was MacGregor…a rogue. What was she thinking? He was a master at getting whatever he wanted from women. She knew that and yet did not have enough strength within her to stop. Her emotions whirled and skidded as his words haunted her.
    Donna say “ne’er.”
    She was an idiot.

Eight
    As Declan waited with the men while the targets were prepared, the women gathered to watch the tournament. King James had already taken his seat under his brocade-adorned tent, patiently waiting for the game to begin. His brown hair was combed back and his beard was nearly as long as his chest. There was no question the man was the king, the way he portrayed such a regal air of command.
    While the target was being placed in position, Percy slapped Declan on the back. “I hope your nerves don’t get the best of you, MacGregor. His Majesty watches,” Percy said, nodding toward the royal tent.
    “I didnae think upon it, but thank ye for reminding me, Percy,” Declan answered dryly.
    Fawkes shook Declan’s arm. “Good luck to you.” He nodded to Percy. “And thank you for the entertainment.”
    Catesby laughed. “Percy, try not to make a fool out of yourself in front of His Majesty, my dear boy. Although, if our king requires a new court jester, you may yet be in luck.”
    Percy’s face reddened slightly. “Very humorous.” His pride bruised, Percy lowered his head and walked off with Fawkes to lick his wounds.
    Catesby nodded. “MacGregor, might I have a word?”
    “Aye?”
    The man looked uneasy. “There is no easy way to speak this, but I fear I must.”
    “What is it?” asked Declan, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
    “There have been rumbles throughout court regarding Argyll’s sister. Since you have an association, I thought you should know.”
    “And what exactly are these rumbles?”
    “Some men say she is…” Pausing, Catesby looked around to make sure no one was within hearing distance. “Some men say she is a witch.”
    Declan smirked. “’Tis absurd. She isnae a witch.” He waved Catesby off.
    Reaching out, Catesby grabbed Declan’s arm. “MacGregor, I speak the truth. Word spreads that she is a witch, and some are taking the matter quite seriously, I assure you.”
    Declan looked upon him with a critical expression. “Who speaks this? Tell me.”
    “I have heard it from many. They say Lady Cranborne was gravely ill and that once she drank the potion given to her from the hand of Argyll’s sister, she greatly improved. Others have said Lady Cranborne lost her child, and when she was touched by Argyll’s sister, her babe was brought back from the grave.”
    Declan folded his arms over his chest. “I told ye. She is a healer. Aye, she saw to Lady Cranborne and her health improved, but nae because she was given a potion by a witch or her bairn was brought back from the grave.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “’Tis truly ridiculous.”
    “Ridiculous as it may be, you know how King James feels about such matters. If it would ever get back to him—”
    “Men and women alike shouldnae speak of what they donna understand. Some plants and herbs have healing properties. Because she knows how to use them, that doesnae mean she is a witch.”
    “I know that and you know that, my dear boy, but others do not. They fear what they do not understand. I only tell you this so that you keep a watchful eye on her. If the king should ever catch wind of this…” Lowering his voice, Catesby added, “You know he travels to Norway and leads the witch hunts. What do you think he would do if he found one was under his own roof?”
    Declan knew this unjustified labeling was truly absurd. The lass might certainly be an enchantress, but she was no witch. “Thank ye for the warning. And Catesby, I would expect ye to halt such rumblings if they are