“What might that be?” She cringed.
“Och, lass, he’s been calling him horse poop. Tieren took umbrage and decided the best way to retaliate was to fling fresh dung at Hunter.” Malcolm shrugged. “Hunter flung it back. The two resemble mounds of the stuff, and none will go near them.”
Liam burst out laughing.
She glared at him. “If you laugh, you get to bathe them.” He stopped immediately. Alethia sighed as Malcolm took her hand to lead her back to camp. “What about Beth? Can’t she help?”
“She’s nowhere to be found. Elaine seems to have disappeared as well.”
Alethia walked between the two men back to their camp by the river, where she found the boys, who did indeed resemble mounds of manure. It clung to their clothes and matted their hair. They glared at each other, and Galen stood behind them to ensure they didn’t flee. Alethia didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so she sent them both a stern look.
“He started it.” Hunter’s small chin jutted out as he signed.
Tieren gasped. “Did not!” He shoved Hunter’s shoulder.
Hunter shoved back. “Did too!”
“Enough.” Malcolm intervened.
Tieren took on a dramatic expression, playing the innocent victim. “He called me a name.”
Alethia had to fight the urge to laugh, and she wondered if Tieren noticed how automatically he used signing when dealing with Hunter. “So I’ve heard.”
She caught the grin Hunter tried to hide, and squelched it. “You will apologize.” She sensed the rebellion growing within him. “Or you will not ride with Malcolm tomorrow.” She raised a single eyebrow and glared at him. His rebellious posture deflated.
Hunter sighed audibly and turned to Tieren with a contrite expression. “I’m sorry, Horse Poop.”
Tieren lunged, Hunter let out a triumphant whoop, and the two were rolling on the ground, arms and legs flying before she could do anything about it. “Fast friends?” She turned to Malcolm.
He grabbed each of the boys by their upper arms and held them apart. “Give it time.”
Other than the lack of Porta Potties and plumbing, the fair in Inverness bore a remarkable likeness to Renaissance fairs in the twenty-first century. Jugglers, magicians, musicians and vendors created a cacophony of sight and sound. The tempting scents of roasting meat, bread, ale and mulled wine permeated the fairgrounds, making her stomach rumble.
Alethia spied Beth and another young woman in MacKintosh plaid flirting with a group of men from another clan. Everywhere she turned, she saw a multitude of plaids in all tints and hues. And men. The fifteenth-century warriors were huge and well muscled. She linked her arm through Elaine’s. “Look at all the eye candy.”
Elaine giggled. “I never tire of the entertainment your odd speech affords me, True. What do you mean by aye candy?”
“Look around you. The place is overflowing with gorgeous men with hot bodies—a feast for the eyes—eye candy.”
Elaine laughed again. “Ah, I take your meaning.”
“Oh look, Elaine. A group of them is heading our way.” She nodded toward the herd of hunks weaving through the crowd toward them. “The one leading them is breathtaking, like a Scottish Adonis,” she whispered. Elaine stiffened beside her and grabbed her hand. Puzzled, Alethia glanced at her. Elaine’s face had turned scarlet. She had no time to question her friend. They were quickly surrounded. Alethia moved closer to Elaine, who still held her hand with bone-crushing force.
“Lady Elaine,” the blond Adonis said as he bowed. “’Tis a pleasure to see you. I did so hope…” Taking her free hand in his, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles and stared at Elaine with such intensity, Althia was forced to lower her gaze. If she hadn’t, she would’ve missed seeing the man press a note into Elaine’s palm. Elaine tucked it away with a furtive gesture.
“Dylan, ’tis good to see you as well. May I introduce my friend?” She gripped Alethia’s arm. “Lady Alethia Goodsky is a guest at Moigh Hall. We call her True. This is Dylan of clan Sutherland. He is my half sister’s brother-in-law, and the earl of Sutherland’s youngest son.”
“’Tis a pleasure to meet a friend of my lady’s.” He bowed and introduced the men with him. “May we accompany you? Might we tempt you into sharing refreshments with us?”
Dylan took Elaine’s hand and tucked it through his arm before either of them could respond. Were all Scottish males as arrogant as Malcolm and Dylan? Surrounded by Dylan and his men, they were ushered along the path, stopping now and then to take in the sights. Alethia focused on Elaine to get a sense of her feelings. Longing and intense emotions flowed between her and Dylan.