“My credit card is maxed out.”
“How?”
Julia let her breath out in a huff. “Trevor convinced me to invest in several ventures that turned out to be way too risky. He needed some cash flow and promised to pay me back with interest.”
Maria’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me all this before, Julia. Why did you keep it a secret?”
“You’d have told me not to do it.”
“You’re so right. But I’m truly sorry. What about your father or grandfather?”
“I’m on my own. They both counseled me about giving Trevor any money. Told me that if Trevor’s hunches didn’t pan out, it was my loss, and they wouldn’t bail me out. I don’t blame them, really. It was my mistake. But I really liked the guy.”
“Yeah, until he took what he made on the business and left you high and dry. No promises to repay you, right?”
Julia shook her head. “He just vacated his apartment without leaving any word. For two months, I thought he would contact me, that he felt badly that he’d lost my money, but that once he was working a steady job again, he’d contact me. I didn’t expect him to pay me back right away. I guess a part of me didn’t believe he would ever pay me back, but not because he didn’t want to. Just because he couldn’t afford to.
“But then… well, I figured he wasn’t going to call and had no intention of ever paying me back. He sold his investments at a loss, but he still received some money from them, and even if he wasn’t making much money, he could have sent me something as a token payment.”
“He also could have let you know where he planned to go before he even left.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It wasn’t like I was going to go after him to drag the money out of him.”
“You shouldn’t have messed with a human.”
“He liked what I wrote. I can’t say that about the wolfish guys I’ve met. Although from what their cousin Heather said, Ian’s brothers kind of liked what I’ve written. Would Ian, though?” Julia shrugged.
“What about Laird MacNeill? Would he pay off your debt?”
“I’m pretty sure they’re in debt up to their eyeballs already. And that’s why they’ve agreed to filming here. I wouldn’t think of passing on my debt to them. Maybe what I earn from being a fair maiden in the movie will pay for my flight and lodging. I won’t be getting any royalties for my books for several months.”
Maria’s mouth dropped. “Has Laird MacNeill agreed to allow you to play a part in the movie?”
Julia laughed. “Are you kidding? But it’s not for him to decide.”
“Well, we have a tiny bit of a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Guthrie told me Basil Sutherland and his men are their sworn enemies, and they’ll be fighting in a couple of the battle scenes. He also said that his men are the ones who attacked Laird MacNeill and you in the woods. The situation could become dangerous.”
“Basil Sutherland is the one who called and threatened you in L.A., and he’s been blackmailing my grandfather and father about the betrothal agreement. So he really can’t be trusted. But I need the money,” Julia said. “Not only that, I want to take part. Participating will help me write my book.” She motioned to the trailer where she was to select a gown for the movie. “I’ve got to get a costume. We’ll talk later.”
“Better hurry. As soon as Guthrie enters the keep, you know he’ll let the laird know you’re out here. And then? You’ll be back in that bedchamber of his.” Maria grinned. “Not that it would be a bad place to be, I’m sure.”
Julia groaned and then turned and hurried toward the trailer, excited about this new venture she was bound for and not about to be thwarted—by Ian or his enemy.
Finding Julia missing from his bed, Ian sighed, figuring she’d had to escape him just so she could eat a meal and take a break. He took a shower and dressed and then headed down the stairs.
“Ian, we have a problem,” Guthrie said, stalking into the great hall. “Cearnach asked me to bring you the news because he’s dealing with another issue right now.”
“What is the problem now?”
“You said to make sure that none of Basil Sutherland’s people were hired as extras. But somehow, they managed to get hired anyway. Maria said they needed more men. Basil and thirty of his men showed up at the gates today, ready to do serious battle.”
Ian stalked down the stairs and headed for the entryway, but he paused to see a portrait on the floor, leaning against the wall, that looked as though it was an old-time portrait in oil of Julia.
Guthrie chased after him. “The painting’s from the tower room. Good likeness, isn’t it?”
Ian shook his head. “If I had seen that before, I would have really wondered what was going on. She looks like a reincarnation of the woman.” He stalked again toward the door.
“Maria showed me the contract you agreed to. They can hire whoever they need in order to have enough actors to film the movie.”
“Can’t they digitally create the masses or whatever it is they do?” Ian growled. “Basil and his men will not fight ours.”
“The director is ecstatic. The men all have their own costumes, and their garments are old enough to look authentic. They wore the costumes today to convince the man who was hiring the background performers to choose them.”
“They are authentic.”
“Aye. But it saves the director money. He doesn’t want us using our own swords, though. Too lethal-looking.”
“That’s because they are lethal.”
“Aye, and he said they’re so heavy to wield that we’ll use the lightweight movie props.”
Ian cast Guthrie a dark look.
Guthrie shrugged. “He liked that they looked authentic. But he’s concerned about injuries.”
“If the MacNeills fight Sutherland’s men, they’ll use their own swords, and we won’t go into battle with toy ones.”
Guthrie smiled a little. “You’ll join us?” He handed him some paperwork.
Ian read over the script of a couple of scenes and found a contract for him to sign to take part in the movie—and he grunted. “I don’t know how you could get us into this mess, but what kind of a clan chief would I be if I didn’t lead our people against the Sutherlands?”
“I’m fighting also,” Guthrie said with pride.
Ian gave him a tight nod.
“The director said if you’d appear in the film, he’d give you some special roles. But there’s one other thing…”
The way Guthrie said the words made Ian give him a wary look as they exited the keep and stormed across the inner bailey. “What else is wrong now?”
Guthrie cleared his throat. “Since Julia was fired as Maria’s assistant…”
“Which she wasn’t anyway,” Ian reminded him.
“Aye, well, the director had need of six fair maidens, and she signed up to—”
Ian stopped abruptly and glowered at Guthrie. “Julia will not be one of them.”
“She and Heather—”
“Not Heather, either.”
“Heather will obey you since you’re the clan chief, but I doubt Julia will.”
“Where is she?”
“She went to speak with Maria.”
Duncan hurried to greet them and motioned to a metal trailer. “Julia’s in that contraption changing, from what I’ve been told.”
“Aye.” Ian stalked off to talk to Maria, who was busily speaking with someone on the film crew. As soon as she saw Ian headed for her, she cut off her speech with the other man, dismissed him, faced Ian, and plastered on a fine smile.
“Basil Sutherland and his men won’t be part of this fight scene or any other,” Ian said, closing in on her.
“But your contract clearly states that we can hire them. I’m sorry. It’s all legally binding.”
“You’re not sorry. But if we have a bunch of dead men—”
Her smile faded. In a low voice, she said, “I understand your concern, Laird MacNeill. But my hands are tied on this issue. If I’d known beforehand, I might have been able to stop Roger from hiring the men. But it’s done. Unless we can prove cause that they shouldn’t be on the set—criminal records, drunkenness, refusal to listen to direction—something that would allow us to release them from the contract, we can’t do anything about it. And besides, that’s why everyone has to use the sword props.”
Ian shook his head. “Where’s Harold Washburn?”
“He’s directing a scene in the forest. He can’t be interrupted. Did Guthrie tell you he wants you to play some special roles in the film?”
“Aye.” And Ian would, only to ensure that Sutherland’s men were kept in their place. Saints preserve us. He’d never planned to show his face in film. But then again, maybe no one would watch the bloody thing in the U.K. “I don’t want Julia in the movie.”
“She’s selecting a dress.” Maria waved at the trailer.
“Neither she nor Heather will be in the film.”
“Since Heather is your cousin and part of your clan, I suppose the poor woman doesn’t have any recourse.”
Ian lifted a brow to hear Maria’s choice of words.
“But Julia already told me she wants to take part in this. For research.”
“For a cowboy story set in Texas?”
Maria’s eyes widened. “What? She’s writing a Scottish werewolf story.”
“She’s no longer writing a story about Highlanders.” At least that was the story she was sticking to, but he truly didn’t believe it.
“Oh. Well, she never said anything to me about that. Writers do change their minds. She’s over there selecting a dress. But, Laird MacNeill, if she wants to do this, let her. You know she won’t appreciate it if you make a big scene over this.”
