They shared a long, nervous look.
“All right. This way, my lady,” Thomas said.
He led her through a door into the tower, up a set of spiraling steps, and to a polished wooden door.
“Lady Abigail wishes to speak to ye, my lor—”
Abi pushed past him before he could finish his sentence, shoved open the door, and stormed inside. She entered a circular study with windows on two sides which flooded the place with light. The only furniture was a large desk beneath one of those windows that was scattered with scrolls and a half-eaten plate of food.
Reid Campbell was not at the desk. Instead, he was standing by the large fireplace, and was half-naked, stripped to the waist with his shirt tossed onto the back of the chair behind the desk. He looked around in annoyance, a washcloth spotted with blood held in one hand.
“Dinna either of ye know how to knock?”
“I...um...”
Abi swallowed. Unbidden, she found her eyes drawn to his naked torso. It was every bit as fine as it had felt when she’d bumped against it during the ride yesterday. Tanned skin over contoured muscle with a slight dusting of hair across his chest. There was a gash in his shoulder, just above his heart, and it was this that he was cleaning with the blood-covered rag.
“Apologies, my lord,” Thomas stuttered. “But she wouldnae wait.”
Reid’s striking blue eyes snapped to Abi. “I’ll bet she didnae. It’s all right, Thomas. Ye may leave us.”
The lad bobbed his head and hurriedly left, pulling the door shut behind him.
“Well?” Reid asked. “What is so urgent that ye would barge into a lord’s chamber unannounced?”
Abi licked her lips. Why did he have to stand there half-dressed like that? It was very distracting. She’d come here to tear strips off him, but suddenly struggled to order her thoughts.
She opened her mouth to speak, but instead of what she’d meant to say, she found herself asking, “What did you do?”
He glanced at the cut on his shoulder. “Let Malcolm get too close with that bloody ax of his during training this morning. A lesson I willnae forget in a hurry.”
“It needs stitching.”
“It’s naught. Dinna fash.”
Abi put her hands on her hips. “Are you always this obstinate?”
“Aye, always. Hadnae ye noticed?” He dabbed the wound with the cloth then crossed to the chair, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it on over his head. He winced only slightly as the material brushed against his wound.
“What can I do for ye, lass?”
Abi drew herself up. “I’ve come to demand that you release me.”
She lifted her chin, forced herself to meet his stern gaze. She wouldnotlet him intimidate her. Maybe that glare would work on his men, but if he thought it would work on her, he had another think coming!
“I see,” he said at last. “Tired of our company already, my lady?”
Something about the mocking way he said it stung her to anger. “You think this is amusing? Kidnapping me and bringing me to this god-awful-place?”
His gaze sharpened. “Nay,” he said. “Naught about this situation is amusing. Tell me, Abigail Fenton, what would ye do if I released ye?”
“I would go on my way to Tarness to look for my friend.”
“And where is this Tarness?”
Abi opened her mouth and closed it again. She realized that she didn’t have a clue. She and Reid had ridden for a long time and she hadn’t been entirely sure of the direction they’d taken. She waved her hand vaguely. “North. Close to the coast.”
“And how would ye get to this place that’s north, close to the coast?”
