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“How about some Mackenzie uisge,” he said.

William’s mouth curved upward. “Ah. The famous Mackenzie uisge.”

Angus waved to one of his men, and he brought the cask. Angus served the uisge, and as they drank, Angus felt a cool hand on his thigh.

“Ye make the uisge yerself?” Euphemia asked, her voice husky.

He clenched his jaw and turned to her. “Aye, Lady,” he said. “’Tis one of the things I enjoy.”

Without breaking eye contact, she took another sip and moaned in appreciation. “A fine drink, my lord.”

She stroked his thigh, and he tensed. What, by God’s bones, was she doing? She behaved like a street harlot, not like a noblewoman with land and riches and power.

“I am glad ’tis to yer satisfaction, my lady,” Angus said with an effort to relax his gritted teeth.

He was a warrior. A protector. He wasn’t a diplomat. How would he get out of this without offending her?

“A man who can make such delights for the mouth… Ye’re nae marrit, my lord, aye?”

By God’s blood. “Nae.”

“Neither am I. I’m a widow twice.”

The Earl of Ross, who’d been listening to Laomann, turned his head to Angus and chuckled. “One of the poor fools is dead by her will.”

Angus frowned.

“Have ye nae heard?” William said darkly. “She ordered her second husband beheaded.”

“Ye gave the order, brother,” she said.

“I was afraid ye’d have me killed if I didna.”

She removed her palm from Angus’s thigh and took her cup with both hands. A small mercy. “In any case, I had a reason.”

“What happened with yer first husband?” he asked.

“He died fighting on the side of William Wallace at the Battle of Falkirk,” she said and threw the contents of the cup down her throat. “That was the time our clans fought on the same side, wasna it?”

“Twelve years ago, indeed.” Angus nodded.

“I wonder if they can fight together again,” she said. “I wonder if that would be the way yer debt can be repaid…or rather, forgotten.”

Silence fell on the table. Everyone stared at her. Angus didn’t like where this was going. His gut tightened as a dark feeling of premonition settled over him like a cloud.

“My lady?” he said.

“How about, instead of scrambling to get the debt paid, ye become my husband,” Euphemia said.

“Angus, nae!” Catrìona cried.

A playful, lazy smile spread on Euphemia’s lips. “What say ye?”

The woman clearly wanted him. Mayhap she was lonely. Mayhap she wanted Kintail, and establishing family ties would be the closest she’d get to the lands. She wouldn’t attack kin.

The decision sank into him like a stone and felt like a noose around his neck. He wouldn’t only be protecting his brothers and his sister, but also hundreds of clansmen as well as their wives and children. It was his duty to protect his clan. Besides, he’d need to marry someone eventually to strengthen the clan’s connections. And if marrying for love was not written in his future, now was as good a time as any to find a wife.

And what better reason was there than to ensure the safety of his family?