Micheil growled an oath and shoved through the crowd into the circle. “They’re too young to take up fighting,” he argued. “No one would accost them.”

“Were those lads on the whisky wagon too young to be waving their dirks at brigands armed with claymores, then?”

That stopped Micheil in his tracks. He drew his weapon.

Donal grinned. “That’s better. Let’s dance, shall we?

Willa Blair

Tags: romance scottish-romance highland-seer higland-romance

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