But there was not a damn lock anywhere within the keep walls or the village with a similar design. All he could think was that the Italians—for he was sure ’twas an Italian name she had mentioned as the maker of the thing—used some odd Italian sort of lock. At this point, he was beginning to think he would have to take her to Italy to get it off her…or take a bath, some part of his brain whispered, and he grimaced at the thought. Damned if he was going to do that! A man had to start out as he intended to go on. He would not bow to her whims.

“Nothing be the matter,” he muttered. “’Tis just that I slept little last night.”

Angus grinned. “All this houghmagandie is catchin’ up to ye. Ye need more stamina.”

Duncan’s only answer was a grunt. He was damned if he was going to correct his father’s beliefs regarding his lack of sleep. But taking in his father’s teasing expression, he wished wistfully that he deserved it. “What do ye be needin’, Da?”

“Oh, aye.” Face sobering, Angus sighed. “’Tis yer sister I actually be lookin’ fer. I would have her learn the duties o’ a wife ere she marries the Englishman. Sweet wee Iliana has agreed to do the trainin’, but I canna find the chit. Have ye seen her?”

Duncan grimaced over the virago that was tormenting his sleep being called “sweet wee Iliana” but shrugged. “I have not seen her.” He turned to walk away then, but paused and turned back as his upset the day before came to mind. “When did ye decide she should marry the Englishman?” he asked accusingly. Had it been his wife who had changed his father’s mind? It certainly seemed so.

All sorts of things had been changing since Iliana’s arrival. For instance, his father had seemed to smile more in the past few days than he had in all the time Duncan had known him. He was not sure that was a good thing. It made him nervous. If his father had been sullen and quiet up to now, at least everyone had known what to expect. Now he could not tell from one moment to the next whether the old man would be silent or smiling. He had even caught him humming under his breath earlier that morning.

“Well, lad,” Angus murmured now, “I would see your sister married and bearing ere I die. ’Sides, the contract was made.”

“Aye, but not fulfilled yet. Mayhap he will break it and Seonaid can marry another.”

Angus Dunbar shook his head mournfully. “Nay. If Sherwell is anything like his father, he’ll not be breaking the contract. He’ll have too much honor fer that.”