"We lost them, Sir," Wet Suit gulped, bracing himself.

"Lost them? How in the hell could you lose them?" Hawk roared in the man's face, turning sharply to face Leatherneck. "Well?"

"We went in and no one was there, Sir. The place was disserted." Leatherneck stood with his back ramrod stiff, bracing for his commander's wrath.

"Disserted?" Hawk fumed, looking between the two men. "You're dismissed. See Duke for your next assignments. The two of you seem to need some time to develop some team spirit." He watched the men leave, slapping each other with their caps.

"It's all your fault, jarhead," Wet Suit growled, shoving the marine.

"Like hell, squid," Leatherneck shoved back.

"STOW IT!" Hawk growled. "Get your sorry asses out of my sight, NOW!" I hope Flint has better luck in Scotland. The general sighed, watching the men lumber off towards Duke's office.

****************

"Any word from Scarlett?" Flint paused in the doorway, looking towards Shipwreck.

"Nah, last report came in an hour ago. She said they're turning the castle upside down, preparing for Destro's return. Maggie got her inside the castle as her niece, Bridget. She's working as a maid." Shipwreck reached for a piece of paper. "Hawk sent this a little while ago. Looks like Wet Suit and Leatherneck really screwed things up."

"DAMN IT!" Flint balled the paper tightly in his fist. "Why can't they get it together? They had her."

"Nah, do you think she'd sit out of a skirmish?" Shipwreck leaned back in his chair. "She ain't that lost."

"You're right," Flint sat down on the edge of the bed, raking his hand through his hair. Shipwreck studied him a moment.

"Why don't you use that costume and see for yourself?" Shipwreck pointed to the closet.

"Can't, the grenadiers are out," Flint sighed, rubbing his hand over his jaw.

"Then get some rest, I'll let you know as soon as Scarlett checks in," Shipwreck leaned back in chair, tilting his cap over his eyes.

*******************
Scarlett was dusting the armor in the gallery when she heard the heavy doors swinging open. "Hurry, don't dawdle girl," Margaret barked over her shoulder. "All of ye downstairs, front and center." She clapped her hands, ushering the maids down to the main hall.

Scarlett hung back a moment, allowing the others to pass. Her orders were simple, she was to not to interfere nor was she to approach Lady Jaye. She was there to observe and report the security features and the daily activities of the castle. Smoothing her skirt, she fell towards the back of the line, placing her hands in the front of her skirt. She bobbed a curtsey as Ailíse entered the hall. Straining her neck slightly to get a better view, she saw the masked woman ascend the staircase with several grenadiers behind her.

"Mind yer manners, girl," Margaret snapped her with a towel. "Don't raise yer eyes ta 'er unless she speaks ta ye." Scarlett winced at the older woman's words.

"Yes ma'am," she nodded, returning to her previous chore. She watched the grenadiers from the corner of her eye.

"Margaret, a word with you?" Sean pulled her to the side. "Who's the new girl? I haven't seen her before," he nodded to Scarlett in the gallery above them.

"That's Bridget, she's harmless enough. Maggie sent 'er ta me this mornin'," she patted his arm. "Don't ye worry now, I'll keep a close eye on 'er."

"Make sure you do," Sean hissed in her ear. "The laird looked fit to be tied when he saw Lady Ailíse with the men. He's not in the mood to be played with today." He turned to face his men. "All Iron Grenadier squad leaders report to the quad," he bellowed.

"Are they always so uptight?" Scarlett whispered to another maid.

"Do ye always ask so many bloody questions?" She snapped back. "Watch yer step, Margaret's a veritable shrew. She'll make yer life a livin' hell if she thinks ye step outta' line."

"Sorry, I was just curious," Scarlett shrugged, polishing the armor.

"Don't be. Just be careful. Something big's happening around here. Me mum said she hasn't seen the castle this busy since..."

"Quit yer jabberin'," Margaret sneered, entering the corridor. "Bridget, follow me. Yer ta help clean milady's chambers, NOW! She'll be dressin' fer dinner soon and everythin' must be in order."

"Aye, Margaret," she rushed off behind her, suppressing a grin.

********************


Scarlett was hanging clothes in the closets when she heard a man's voice booming in the room.

"Everyone stand aside," Sean entered, scanning the room. "You there *pointing to Scarlett * what are you doing?"

"She's hanging my clothes, Sean. This is ridiculous," Ailíse fumed, pushing past Ian. "Search as you will, then GET OUT!" She growled, placing her hands to her temples.

"Ailíse?" Ian gently pulled her around to face him. "What's wrong, luv?" He whispered low enough for her to hear, glaring at the others to leave them.

"It's nothing, Ian. I'm exhausted," she sighed, feeling his arm guide her to her bed. "I just need some sleep."

"Margaret, Lady Ailíse needs to rest before dinner. Can your staff work quietly? Or, can you return later while she's dressing?" Ian scowled at the woman.

"We're finished in the bedroom. We can finish the rest later," she bobbed her head towards Ailíse. "Milady?"

"Thank you, Margaret," she waved a hand, dismissing her.

Scarlett followed the others out of the room, leaving Ian with her.

"Eyes front, lass," Margaret pushed her from the room, but not before she saw Ian on one knee before Ailíse.

Scarlett bit her tongue.

"I have to meet with Liam and your uncle," he took her hands in his. "I'll be back later to escort you down to dinner, if I don't see you before then, luv." He reached to caress her cheek, as he stood.

"That would be nice," she sighed. "I really need to lie down. My head's hurting me," she winced, removing her mask. "Could you get me some aspirin, Ian?" She watched him walk to her bathroom, returning with a few pills and a glass of water.

"Take these, I'll be back later. Feel well," he brushed his lips over hers before leaving.

Stepping outside the door to the hall, he found Margaret standing with the other maids. "Lady Ailíse is resting. She's not to be disturbed until it's time for her to get ready for dinner. Patrick, send one of your men to stand guard in the corridor make sure no one disturbs her!"

*****************

Ian caught a glance from Patrick on the way downstairs. "What is it?" He clamped his hand over Patrick's shoulder, bringing him to a halt.

"Destro knows."

"Knows what?" Ian frowned.

"He knows all about you and the lady in the cove. You didn't say a word," Patrick fumed, shaking his head. "I thought you were my best friend."

"You know you are, but Ailíse is..."

"Ailíse is it now...have you lost your bloody mind?" Patrick's eyes went wide. "You know she's untouchable. She's his niece."

"Will you calm down? It's not like that, I love her."

"You HAVE lost your bloody mind. Destro's going to kill you," Patrick shuddered, wrenching his arm free.

"Patrick, WAIT!" Ian tried to go after him, but was stopped short by a hand on his shoulder.

"I will see you in my study," Destro growled, shoving the young man forward. "Liam and Sean, guard the door. See to it that we're not disturbed!"

The grenadiers standing guard outside his study quickly dispersed, relinquishing their post to the older grenadiers.

Ian stood to the side, allowing Destro to proceed ahead of him to his desk.

"Ian, sit down!" Destro growled, taking his seat.

"Yes, laird," he gulped, sliding into a chair across from the desk.

"Do you have something you wish to tell me about you and my niece?" Destro glared as he leaned forward to his humidor, lifting a cigar from the box. He waited for an answer as he snipped the end off, taking it to his lips to light it.. Destro sighed, examining the curls of smoke drifting towards the ceiling.

"Sir, about me and Ailíse...I mean Lady Ailíse?" Ian stammered, shifting uncomfortably under Destro's glare.

"Yes, what about you and Ailíse?" Destro lowered the cigar, narrowing his eyes on him. "You are aware that she is my only heir, are you not? Her mother is my sister, Lady Amanda."

"I...ah...thought...ah..."

"What precisely are your intentions towards Ailíse?" Destro watched the young man relax slightly.

"I care very deeply for her, sir," he locked eyes with Destro.

Destro suppressed a grin. "You can begin to explain how you can make such a claim, having compromised her in the cove. Liam tells me the two of you were ...."

"Nothing happened, laird. I swear," Ian rushed the words.

"Then, explain how you had her top in your hands and why you were holding her on the beach!" Destro slammed his fist down on the desk, shaking the tabletop contents from their places.

"We got carried away in the water; she panicked running for the shore. Liam saw me comforting her." Ian gulped, lowering his eyes from Destro's before looking up once more. "I'd never harm her. I swear."

"Ian, my niece is not to be dallied with," Destro growled, pushing his chair back as he stood. "I cannot have any stigma attached to my heir. I'm willing to over look many things about her upbringing, but I will not tolerate the behavior reported to me, including you in her room at night. Is that clear?"

"Sir, I swear my intentions are honorable."

"Honorable?" Destro raised a brow, resting his hands on the arms of Ian's chair as he leaned into his face.

"I love her...I want to marry her." Ian glared back at him.

"Ah...and what makes you think she'll have you when she calls out to another?"

"Our families are evenly matched, my laird."

"Yes, they are," Destro stood slowly, walking towards his brandy decanter. "How is your grandfather these days?" He glanced over to Ian while pouring a sniffer of brandy.

"Quite well," Ian nodded.

"Very good, you are to call and invite him to dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. After dinner, you are to take Ailíse for a long walk in the gardens while I discuss a few matters with your Grandfather." Destro watched confusion settle in Ian's eyes. "You did ask for her hand, did you not?"

"Yes," Ian grinned, jumping from his seat. "You won't regret this, laird. I swear."

"I had better not. Don't start celebrating just yet," Destro swirled the contents of his glass, studying Ian. "She has a choice. If she refuses you, you must abide by that decision." Destro smirked slightly at the younger man's fallen expression. He sighed, "What I'd suggest is a long engagement, a handfasting if you will."

"Handfasting," Ian choked the words.

"Yes, you are familiar with the term, are you not?"

"Born and bred in Scotland, I should be," Ian frowned. "But, why would you suggest such a thing?"

"Ailíse is young, and head strong much like her mother," Destro lifted a picture of Amanda to show Ian. "You still haven't won her. Give her the time she needs to heal."

"But..."

"You have a year and a day to decide if the two of you suit," Destro grinned, placing his hand on Ian's shoulder, leading him to the door. "If you don't, both of you can walk away without the families losing face; that is, unless you and she were to have a child, a son. I'd claim your son as the next Lord Destro. Do you understand?"

"Ah...yes, perfectly," Ian's frown gave way to a thankful grin. "May I ask her tonight?"

"You may, after dinner," Destro slapped him on the shoulder. "I'll speak with your Grandfather alone before dinner while you check on Ailíse. I also want to speak with her after I see your Grandfather. Now, go and see to security measures. My sources are reporting that the Joes are nearby."

"Yes, laird," Ian rushed from the room.

"Is everything all right, laird?" Liam frowned at Ian racing out of the hall.

"Everything is going according to plan. Make sure my sister and her husband remain barred from the castle, and have Margaret summoned to me at once. I want her staying in Ailíse's dressing room until further notice. Ian is not to go to her at night until...never mind get Margaret," Destro sighed, closing the door.

******************

"It's about time," Margaret growled, pulling Scarlett into the room.

"I'm sorry, the laundress just finished pressin' it," she held up a gown for inspection, using it to shield her eyes as she scanned the room. She suppressed an urge to drop the gown and run to the woman seated at the vanity, applying her make up.

"Let me have the gown. The laird's waiting for her," Margaret snatched it from her hands.

"Margaret, apologize right now. There's no cause for you to treat her like that," Ailíse snapped, looking up from her mirror. She shifted in her seat to face Scarlet. "You're new here, aren't you?" She smiled warmly at Scarlett.

"Yes, milady. I am sorry, Bridget, but the laird is waiting," Margaret forced a smile.

"My uncle can wait," Ailíse raised a hand, turning back to her vanity.

Scarlett quietly watched the others fussing over her before stepping forward with the gown when she asked for it.

"Here you are, milady," she followed her behind the screen, watching her step into a jade gown trimmed in gold embroidery. The tapered sleeves of the fitted gown just covered her shoulders, with a tight collar at the base of her neck. The straight skirt fell to her ankles with a slit going up right side to her mid thigh. Stepping back and turning, Scarlett saw small griffons embroidered throughout the gown. She looked like a china doll, standing with her hair pulled back in a French twist, pinned by black onyx combs. The effect wasn't simple. It was stunning.

"Would you mind?" Ailíse turned, offering her back.

"I can get that for ye, milady," Margaret rushed forward.

"Bridget is right here. She can assist me. Thank you, Margaret." She sweetly dismissed her.

"There you are," Scarlett fastened the top clasp, stepping back. "Are you feeling well, milady?" She observed her unsteady gait, walking from behind the screen.

"I'm fine, just a little tired. Thank you," Ailíse sighed, reaching for a jade bangle to slip over her wrist. "Please hand me my jewelry case," she looked to another maid. Scarlett watched her pull out a pair of jade earrings to match the bangle. "How do I look?" She smiled, surveying her appearance in the full-length mirror.

"Stunning milady," Margaret rushed forward, smoothing the skirt of her gown.

A faint knock on the door drew their attention. "Margaret, see who it is please?" Ailíse turned viewing the rest of her gown.

"It's Ian, milady," Margaret stepped to the side, allowing him to enter.

"Milady," he bowed.

"Ian?" Ailíse paused, studying his appearance. He was dressed for dinner in Bonnie Prince Charlie attire, a dinner jacket and kilt. She smiled at him, stepping away from her maids. "Excuse me, I wasn't expecting you to be dressed for dinner."

"My Grandfather will be joining us this evening," he lifted her hand to his lips. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you. The Buchanan plaid, I take it?" she raised her hand, stopping her maids giggles.

"Yes milady," he grinned, offering his arm. She hesitated slightly as an image of another man in a kilt came to mind. He wore a different plaid. She saw herself lying in a meadow with the man. He was reading something to her, his eyes...

"Ailíse, you're uncle requests your presence in his study before dinner," he whispered in her ear, breaking her thoughts.

"Yes, of course," she sighed, looking back to her room.

******************

"It seems like he's always with her," Scarlett frowned, watching the pair disappear down the staircase.

"Ian's a good lad. He'd sooner cut off his right arm than let any 'arm come ta 'er," Margaret smiled softly. "He's the first ta come runnin' at night when the nightmares come."

"Nightmares?"

"Aye, I've never been allowed ta 'tend her when they occur. I came ta wake 'er from one and found Ian holding 'er as she cried in 'er sleep. I couldna tell what she was crying. He ordered me from the room, and stayed with 'er 'til she settled down. He's been taking care of 'er since he had tha doctor barred from the castle. I only hope the laird doesn't punish him fer doing so. I asked 'er if she wanted ta talk about the dreams but she said she canna recall them."

"I hope so to for her sake," Scarlett sighed, turning down the covers on the bed.

*********************

"Ian?" She pulled his arm, stopping him from leaving her. "Where are you going?"

"I have to meet my Grandfather in the billiards room," he smiled, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Your uncle wants to see you alone. I'll be back shortly," he kissed the palm of her hand before tapping on the door.

"Enter," Destro bellowed.

"Ian?"

"Go on, I'll be back for you shortly," he opened the door, nodding his head towards Destro.

"Ian, return in half an hour," Destro waved him off, walking from behind his desk. "Ailíse, we need to have a chat." He reached for her elbow, guiding her to a chair in front of his desk. He leaned back against the edge of it, folding his arms across his chest. "Ian and I had a talk this afternoon."

"Really?" She gulped, adjusting the fabric of her skirt.

"Yes, your relationship with him has come to my attention."

"My relationship?" She asked sharply, catching her tone. She bit her lower lip.

"Surely, you didn't think the others wouldn't report back to me." Destro unfolded his arms, placing the palms against the edge. He pushed himself up to stand above her. "You know your duty to the clan. You know your place, and that family honor is prized above all else."

"Yes, I do, but I've done nothing to be ashamed of." She glared back at him, raising her chin defiantly.

"Frolicking on the beach without your top is hardly..."

"I wasn't frolicking," she sprang from her chair, standing eye to eye with him. "I was upset, and lost my top in the water. Ian was comforting me. Nothing happened!"

"Nothing happened? How do you explain waking up with him?"

"I had a nightmare," she fumed, walking towards the windows.

"Nightmares, losing your top.... all with Ian? People talk, it's their nature. I will not have your reckless behavior taint the family name." He followed her to the windows, softening his tone as he approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Ian has asked to marry you, and I've accepted for you on your behalf," he felt her back stiffen at his words.

"You did WHAT?" She roared, turning to face him.

"You will marry Ian." He replied smoothly with a shrug.

"Bloody hell I will," she spat, charging towards the door. "I hardly know myself, and you expect me to get married. What's next..."

"Ailíse, you will do as I say," he growled, pulling her back. He reached inside his pocket, fumbling for Mindbender's remote.

"No...no...absolutely," she stammered, falling unconsciously into his arms as he pressed the button.

"No, you will agree to this wedding. Do you understand?" He softly murmured, lifting up in his arms.

"Yes," she whispered as he gently set her down on a leather sofa.

"Excellent, you will remember none of this argument. When Ian proposes to you tonight, you will accept. Understood?" He waited for her to nod before stepping over to his desk. He searched his Intel reports for his location, planning to schedule a meeting with him.