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make us strong. We have lads aplenty who can soon grow into warriors worthy of such an alliance. We have an arms master, aye,” she said as she glanced Micheil’s way. His back ramrod stiff, he stared toward the doorway as if trying to wish himself away from here, or simply to ignore the discussion, but she saw his brow furrow and knew he listened. “One who was merely a promising lad in training four years ago. One who has done all he can since then for the good of the clan. But we will have little success unless our lads are well trained by an expert. If they canna fight, or fight poorly, they are of no use to their clan or to the treaty.”
    Jamie inclined his head. Not a bow, but an acknowledgement. “I canna disagree.”
    Heartened, Ellie forged ahead. “Ye have such a master in Donal MacNabb. I have seen the result of his tutelage in yer men. I ask the use of his skills for long enough to ensure my lads have a decent chance to prevail against any who would be our enemy.”
    Ellie kept her gaze firmly on Jamie, refusing to give Donal the chance to thrust himself into the negotiation. His objection now would distract Jamie from agreeing to the terms she set.
    “I understand why ye ask this.” Jamie spoke softly, still thoughtful. He gazed off into the heights of the hall for a moment and Ellie held her breath. Then he returned his attention to her. “I regret I am no’ at liberty to assign the Lathan arms master, certainly not for such a lengthy period, without advising the Lathan laird. If ye would allow me to send a runner, perhaps we could resolve this in due time.”
    Ellie’s jaw clenched. What was this? “I apologize. I understood ye to be the Lathan laird’s ambassador, with full authority to speak for him. How inconvenient it must be to have to consult from such a distance.”
    Her barb hit home, no doubt about it. Jamie flared red across his nose and cheeks, then drew himself up even further, took a deep breath and spoke. “Lady, I do no’ consult. I wish to apprise my laird of the potential loss of the services of a key member of the clan. I understand yer position and am sympathetic. But yers are not the only equities at stake here. The Lathan sets a high store by Donal MacNabb’s skill, service, and friendship.”
    Ellie risked a glance at Donal. He appeared to be biting his tongue. His jaw clenched so tightly, she wondered why she could not hear his teeth cracking as they talked.
    Micheil stood, head down, smarting, she sensed, from this discussion of his inadequacies, though they were no fault of his. A wave of pity tightened her throat.
    “I see this discussion was ill-timed, coming so soon on the heels of violence in this very hall. We will adjourn for now.” Ellie stood. “Thank ye, gentlemen, for yer attention. I will see ye at the evening meal. I hope there willna be any further misunderstandings in the meantime.” With a nod she hoped appeared as lairdly as her stiff back would allow, she crossed the hall and ascended the stairs. Let them chew on that for a while.
    ****
    Donal paced—something he never did. If ever there’d been an occasion for it, this was it. But damn it, Jamie’s public room was too small to work up a proper stride. He could only take three or four steps before he had to turn, losing all the momentum he’d built to burn off some of the anger consuming him. The fact that as he paced, he had to avoid tripping over Jamie’s long legs, stretched out in front of the hearth, added fuel to the fire of his irritation.
    Damn her. He’d already refused her. Hadn’t he been clear enough? Yet she’d brought up keeping him here—formally, as laird—to Jamie, as Lathan ambassador. While he stood by, unable to interrupt or object. Seething. Damn her.
    She was daft. Surely the strain of being laird had to be too much for any woman. Add to that a clan decimated by the King’s folly...or had she been into the MacKyrie whisky? Nay, not this early in the day. On second