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James is with his cousin, Colin, and they are looking down at the Lowland workmen setting up viewing stands for the trial by combat soon to take place. Neither man is pleased. And James becomes particularly annoyed when he spots the heroine, Catriona.
Here it is...
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Nearly a fortnight later, James Cameron stood atop the battlements of Castle Haven and glared down at the worst folly to ever darken the Glen of Many Legends. Wherever he looked, Lowlanders bustled about the fine vale beneath the castle’s proud walls. A different sort than the lofty souls gorging themselves on good Cameron beef in his great hall, these scrambling intruders were workmen. Minions brought along to do the nobles’ bidding, their busy hands erected viewing platforms while their hurrying feet flattened the sweetest grass in the glen.
Already, they’d caused scars.
Deep pits had been gouged into the fertile earth. Ugly, black gashes surely meant to hold cook fires. Or – James’ throat filled with bile – the bodies of the slain.
On the hills, naked swaths showed where tall Scots pines had been carelessly felled to provide wood. Jagged bits of the living, weeping trees littered the ground.
“Christ God!” James blew out a hot breath, the destruction searing him with an anger so heated he wondered his fury didn’t blister the air.
He went taut, his every muscle stiff with rage.
Beside him, his cousin, Colin, wrapped his hands around his sword belt. “They haven’t wasted a breath of time,” he vowed, eyeing the stout barricades already marking the battling ground where so many men would die.
A circular enclosure better suited to contain cattle than proud and fearless men.
James narrowed his gaze on the pen, unable to think of it as aught else. “Only witless peacocks wouldn’t know that such barricading isn’t necessary.”
Colin flashed a look at him, one brow raised in scorn. “Perhaps they do not know that Highland men never run from a fight?”
“They shall learn our measure soon enough.” James rolled his shoulders, keen to fight now. “Though” – he threw a glance at the men working on the nearest viewing platform – “I might be tempted to flee their hammering!”
Half serious, he resisted the urge to clamp his hands to his ears. But he couldn’t keep an outraged snarl from rumbling in his throat. The din was infernal. Any moment his head would burst from the noise. Each echoing bang was an ungodly smear on the quiet of the glen, most especially here, in this most beauteous stretch of the Glen of Many Legends.
Equally damning, the MacDonald wench once again stood at the edge of the chaos. On seeing her, he felt an even hotter flare of irritation. He stepped closer to the walling, hoping he erred. Unfortunately, he hadn’t. She was truly there, hands on her hips and looking haughty as she glared at the Lowland workmen.
Joining him at the wall, Colin gave a low whistle. “She’s Catriona MacDonald, the chief’s sister. Word is she’s the wildest of that heathenish lot.”
“I know who she is.” James glared at his cousin, not liking the speculative gleam in his eye. “And she is wild - so prickly some say she sleeps in a bed of nettles.”
Colin laughed. “She’s bonnie all the same.”
James scowled at the lass. “So is the deep blue sea until you sink in its depths and drown.”
