"Then I'm getting my kiss too," the other soldier boasted, though Gillian noticed he kept swallowing loudly and glancing over his shoulder, obviously to make sure he wasn't being overheard.
"That boy's name is Donal," Bridgid said. "He's as young and ignorant as Stewart." She leaned into Gillian's side and whispered, "Are you afraid? If you are, I'll call for help."
"I'm not afraid. I am vexed, though. These boys need to learn some manners."
Bridgid grinned. "What say you we toss them down the hill?"
The plan sounded outrageous and fun, and Gillian was sport enough to give it a try. She followed Bridgid's lead and slowly backed up until the two of them were close to the slope.
Donal and Stewart, grinning like lunatics, moved forward. With the crook of her finger, Bridgid bid them to keep coming.
"Do what I do," she whispered to Gillian, and then she ordered Stewart to turn around and close his eyes, promising him that she would give him a reward.
As eager as puppies waiting for a meaty bone, the two boys turned.
"Quit peeking," she ordered. "Close your eyes tight."
"Are you ready?" Gillian asked Donal.
He was vigorously nodding when she gave him a hard shove backward. Bridgid pushed Stewart at the same time. Donal went flying, but Stewart proved to be far more agile. With a shout of victory, he put his foot back to keep from falling, then whirled around to watch his friend rolling down the hill. Bridgid and Gillian seized on his inattention. Lifting their skirts, they kicked him soundly in his backside and sent him on his way.
Unfortunately, Bridgid lost her balance in the process. She'd rolled halfway down the hill before she could stop. Her shrieks of laughter echoed through the treetops. Gillian, thinking to help, chased her, tripped on her own skirt, and ended up crashing into Bridgid.
They were both covered in grass, dirt and leaves, but neither one of them cared. They were so overcome with laughter and making such a racket the soldiers in the fields below paused in their training exercises to look up at them. The women tried to gain control, but when they sat up and spotted Donal and Stewart running away, the sight so amused them, they became hysterical again.
Bridgid wiped the tears away from her face. "I told you they were stupid."
"Yes, you did," Gillian agreed as she staggered to her feet. She heard her blouse rip, looked down, watched her left sleeve fall to her waist, and began to laugh again.
"Do I look as horrible as you do?" Bridgid asked.
"You've got more leaves than hair on your head."
"Stop," Bridgid pleaded. "I cannot laugh anymore. I've got a stitch in my side."
Gillian put her hand down for Bridgid to clasp and pulled her to her feet. Her friend was several inches taller than she was, and she had to look up at her as they walked side by side up the hill.
"You're limping," Bridgid noted. "Did you hurt yourself?"
Gillian began to laugh again. "I've lost my shoe."
Bridgid found it and handed it to her. Just as Gillian was bending down to put the slipper on, Bridgid grabbed her arm and whispered, "Dear Lord, don't look."
"Don't look where?" she asked, squinting against the sunlight at the soldiers below.
"One of the Buchanan soldiers is watching us. Oh, heavens, I think it's their commander. He's standing at the top of the hill. Don't look," she whispered when Gillian tried to turn around. "Do you think he saw what we did?"
Gillian pulled away from Bridgid and turned around to look. "It's Dylan," she said. "Come, I'll introduce you. He's really quite nice."
Bridgid took a step back. "I don't want to meet him. He's a Buchanan."
"Yes, he is."
"Well then, he can't possibly be nice. None of them are," she added with a nod. "But you're from England, and so you wouldn't know…"
"Know what?"
"That they're… ruthless."
Gillian smiled. "Is that so?"
"I'm telling you the truth," Bridgid insisted. "Everyone knows they're all brutal. How could they not be? They follow their leader's example, and Laird Brodick Buchanan is the most frightening man alive. I know what I'm talking about," she insisted. "I could tell you stories that would turn your hair gray. Why, I've known women who have burst into tears just because Laird Buchanan glanced in their direction."
Gillian laughed. "That's absurd."
"It's true," Bridgid continued. "I was in the hall speaking to my laird, and he was there."
"And did he make you cry?"
"No, of course not. I'm not a weakling like some of the women here. But I'll tell you this. I couldn't look him in the eye."
"I promise you, he isn't so fierce."
Bridgid patted Gillian's arm and gave her a look that suggested she thought she was terribly naive. Then she glanced at the top of the hill again. "Oh, dear, he isn't leaving. I think he's waiting for us."
Gillian latched onto Bridgid's arm and pulled her along, forgetting for the moment that she still held her shoe in her other hand. "I promise you that you'll like Dylan."
Bridgid snorted. "I doubt that. Gillian, do listen to me. Since you're going to be my friend, I must advise you to stay clear of all the Buchanans, especially their laird. He won't hurt you, but he'll scare you half to death."
"I don't scare easily."
"I don't either," she said. "You just don't understand. Take my advice and stay away from him."
"That's going to be difficult."
"Why?"
"I'm betrothed to the man."
Bridgid stumbled and would have fallen down if Gillian hadn't held tight to her arm. Bridgid gasped, then burst into laughter. "For a minute there, I thought you were serious. Do all the people in England have your wicked sense of humor?"
"It's the truth," Gillian insisted. "And I'll prove it to you."
"How?"
"I'll put the question to Dylan, Brodick's commander. He'll tell you."
"You're daft."
"You want to know something else positively shocking?"
"Of course I do."
"I love Brodick."
Bridgid's eyes widened. "You love Laird Buchanan. Are you sure you don't have him mixed up with someone else? All the women love Ramsey. They don't love Brodick," she explained authoritatively.
"I don't love Ramsey. I like him," she replied. "But Brodick-"
Bridgid interrupted her. "You cannot possibly know what you're-"
"Getting into?" Gillian supplied when Bridgid didn't finish her thought. "Odd, but those were Father Laggan's very words to me. I do know what I'm doing, though. If I'm able to accomplish a… task… in England and come back here, I will marry Brodick."
Bridgid kept laughing. She absolutely refused to believe Gillian was serious, so outrageous was the notion that any sane woman would willingly pledge herself to such a man.
They argued all the way up the hill. Bridgid wanted to take a wide path around Dylan, but Gillian wouldn't let her. She made her face the commander.
Dylan did look a little fearsome, she supposed, with his legs braced apart and his arms folded across his chest. He towered over the two of them and appeared to be angry, but Gillian knew it was all bluster.
"Good day, Dylan," she said. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Bridgid. Bridgid, this impressive soldier is Dylan, and he's commander over all the Buchanan soldiers."
Bridgid paled. Bowing her head, she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
Dylan didn't say a word, but he did incline his head ever so slightly. Gillian found his arrogance delightful.
"Lady Gillian, what happened to you?"
"You didn't see the men-"
Bridgid shoved an elbow into her side. Dylan's frown intensified. "What men?" he demanded.
She turned to Bridgid. Her friend promptly stepped forward to answer. "The men in the fields. We saw them."