“Aye,” Angus agreed, his own relief apparent. “’Tis lucky ye are. The room went up like a torch.”

Iliana closed her eyes at that, frowning. “I have never seen a fire spread so quickly.”

“Aye, well, it seems uisgebeatha is fair flammable.”

Iliana’s eyes opened at that. “Uisgebeatha?”

“The bottle that rolled out of Duncan’s chest and smashed into the wall,” her mother explained. “’Twas uisgebeatha. Whiskey. Angus thinks ’tis why the fire spread so quickly. The liquid went everywhere when the bottle shattered.”

“Aye, it did.”

“Hmmm. Well, that bottle was his birth batch.”

Her eyebrows rose at that. “Birth batch?”

“Aye. ’Tis a tradition me father’s father started. A batch of uisgebeatha is made the day the heir to the chieftain is born and a bottle of it is given to ’em to save ’til the day he takes over. Then he mourns his father’s passing and his own raise in position with it.”

Iliana had already come to the conclusion that the Scots, or at least these particular Scots, used any excuse they could to drink. Still, the bottle had been saved since his birth, and he would most likely be furious at its loss. “Is Duncan very upset?”

“He doesn’t even ken yet. He hasn’t awoken.” At Iliana’s sudden alarm, he patted her arm reassuringly. “Don’t fash yersel’. He took a mighty kosh on the head is all. He’ll wake soon enough. In truth, he came through better than ye, I think.”

Iliana blinked at that. “What mean you, my lord? I was not harmed, other than the knock on the head, and I am already awake.”

“Aye. That’s true enough. Ye took no other injury…. But ye do look kinda funny.”

Eyes shooting anxiously to her mother, she caught her glaring at Lord Angus and felt her anxiety increase.

“’Tis your hair, dear,” Lady Wildwood murmured in resignation, catching Iliana’s expression. “I fear ’tis a mite melted.”

“Melted?” Iliana’s eyes rounded at that.

“Aye, and ye’ve no eyebrows or lashes to speak of,” Angus added for good measure, his smile becoming more sincere. Then, seeing her dismay, he cleared his throat. “Yer still bonnie to me, lass. ’Sides, the hair’ll doubtless grow back.”

“Where is she?”

They all stilled at that roar from the hallway. Then the door crashed open and both her mother and Angus straightened to turn toward the sound.

Recognizing her husband’s voice, Iliana felt a rush of both relief and panic. Relief because it was obvious from the strength of his voice that Duncan was truly all right, and panic because she did not wish him to see her if what Lord Angus said was true. Her hair was melted and her eyebrows and eyelashes had been singed off by the fire? She could not even imagine the sight she must be.