Beak made a formal bow. "It's my humble pleasure to make your acquaintance," he announced. "I haven't spoken to a full-blooded Scotsman in so many years I've forgotten how to act," he added with a grin. "Forgot how big the Highlanders are, too. You gave me quite a start when I first spotted you, you did."

He opened the doors to two clean stalls adjacent to the entrance, saw to the feeding buckets, the water as well, and then tried to engage the two men in further conversation.

"'Tis the truth you're three days early," he said. "I'm thinking to myself the household will be in an uproar."

Neither lord commented on that remark, but Beak could tell by the way they glanced at each other that they did not particularly care if they caused any disruption.

"Who were you expecting if not us?" Lord Daniel asked, frowning over his question.

Beak was puzzled by the question. "Expecting? No one, leastwise not for three more days."

"The drawbridge was down, man, and not a single watch in sight. Surely-"

"Ah, that," Beak said with a long-drawn-out sigh. "Well, it's true the bridge is down most of the time and there never is a watch posted. You see now, Baron Jamison is a mite forgetful."

When he saw the incredulous looks on the warriors' faces, Beak thought he really should try to give his master some defense. "Being out here in the middle of nowheres like we are, we're never bothered. The baron says he doesn't have much of value to be snatched away," he said with a shrug. "And no one's ever come inside without a proper invite."

"Nothing of value?"

Alec Kincaid had finally spoken. His voice had been soft, yet surprisingly forceful at the same time. And when he turned to give Beak his full attention, the old man's knees started shaking again.

"He does have daughters, doesn't he?"

His scowl could set a fire blazing, Beak decided. He couldn't meet that gaze for long and had to stare at the tips of his boots in order to concentrate on the conversation. "He has daughters all right, more in number than he'll be wanting to admit to having, too."

"Yet he doesn't protect them?" Daniel asked. He shook his head in disbelief, then turned to Alec and said, "Have you ever heard the like?"

"Nay, I haven't."

"What kind of man is this Baron Jamison?" Daniel asked Beak.

The Kincaid answered his question. "An Englishman, Daniel."

"Ah, that does explain it, doesn't it?" Daniel remarked dryly. "Tell me this, Beak. Are the baron's daughters so unsightly there be no need for protection?

Are they without virtue?"

"They're all pretty," Beak answered. "And every single one of them as pure as the day she was born. Strike me dead if that ain't the truth. 'Tis their father who shirks his duty," Beak added with a scowl.

"How many daughters are there?" Daniel asked. "We never bothered to ask your king."

"You'll be seeing three," Beak muttered.

He was about to expound on his remark when both warriors turned and started for the door.

It was now or never, Beak determined. He took a deep, settling breath, then called out, "Are you both mighty lairds over your clans or is one more powerful than the other?"

Alec caught the fear in the stable master's voice. It puzzled him enough to turn back to the man. "What is the reason for such an impertinent question?"

"I mean no disrespect," Beak rushed out, "and I've good honest reasons for my question. I know I'm stepping above meself; I'm meaning to interfere. You see, someone has to look after her interests and I'm the only one who would be caring enough."

Daniel frowned over the odd explanation. It made little sense to him. "I'll become laird over my clan by right of tanistry in another year or two's time," he answered. "The Kincaid is already chieftain over his own clan. There, does that answer your question, Beak?"

"Will he have first choice in this bride-choosing then?" Beak asked Daniel.

"He will."

"And he's more powerful than you?" the stable master asked.

Daniel nodded. "For the moment," he announced with a grin. "Beak, have you never heard of the Kincaid warriors?"

"Aye, I've heard all sorts of stories."

The grimness in his tone made Daniel smile. The old man was obviously frightened of Alec. "I take it some of the stories you've heard include descriptions of Alec's methods in battle?"

"They have. I shouldn't be believing them," Beak added with a hasty glance in Alec's direction. "They were told by Englishmen, you see, and I'm sure they exaggerated the laird's… ruthlessness."

Daniel grinned at Alec before responding to that remark. "Oh, I doubt the stories were exaggerated in the least, Beak. Did they say he never showed mercy?

Compassion?"

"Aye."

"Best believe the stories then, Beak, for they're true. Aren't they, Alec?"

"Aye, they are," Alec agreed, his tone hard.

"Beak," Daniel continued, "your questions amuse me, though I've no idea what it is you're really wanting to find out. Is there another question you'd like to put to us?"

Beak timidly nodded. He turned to stare up at Alec now. A long, silent moment passed while he tried to think of a fitting way to explain about his Jamie without being downright disloyal.

Alec could see the fear in the old man's eyes. He walked back over to stand directly in front of the stable master. "What is it you wish to say to me?"

Beak decided the Kincaid's intuition was as unsettling as his size and voice.

His own voice trembled when he blurted out his question. "Have you ever mistreated a woman in all your days, Alec Kincaid?"

It was obvious the laird didn't care for that question. His expression turned as fierce as a bolt of lightning. Beak took an instinctive step back and had to steady himself by bracing his hand against the wall.

"I've been patient with you because you're Scots, old man, but if you ever put such a foul question to me again, I swear it will be your last."

Beak nodded. "I need to know, inside my heart, because I'm set on giving you a great gift and I have to know you'll recognize its value, my lord."

"He speaks in riddles," Daniel stated. He walked over to stand next to Alec. His frown, Beak noted, was almost as fierce as the Kincaid's. "You've been in England too long, old man, asking such obscene questions."

"I know I ain't making a spit of sense," Beak admitted in a forlorn tone. "Yet if I blurt out the full of it, then it would make me disloyal in my mistress's eyes. I can't have that," he added. "She'd have my hide, she would."

"You admit to being afraid of a woman?" Daniel asked.

Beak ignored the astonished look on the man's face, ignored the laughter in his voice, too. "I'm afeared of no woman. I just don't want to break my word," he explained. "The lass means the world to me. I ain't ashamed to admit I love her like a daughter."

Beak valiantly tried to meet Alec's hard stare. It was a pitiful effort, though.

Oh, how he wished the other warrior were the more powerful of the two. At least the one called Daniel smiled on occasion. "Are you strong enough to protect what belongs to you?" he asked the Kincaid, wanting to get to the heart of the matter as soon as possible.

"I am."

"Baron Andrew will call forth many soldiers. He'll come after the gift I'm giving you. He's also called friend by England's King Henry," Beak added, wobbling his eyebrows to emphasize that fact.

The Kincaid didn't seem impressed with that statement. He shrugged with indifference. "It would matter not to me."

"Who is this Baron Andrew?" Daniel asked.

"An Englishman," Beak answered.

"All the better," Alec said. "If I decide to take this gift you're offering, I'll welcome a challenge from an Englishman. He'll be no threat to me."

Beak visibly relaxed. "No it's about it," he boasted.