“You will die of old age before I learn to write with this bloody feather!” With every fingertip black and a smudge on the end of her nose, she tossed the quill aside and glared at him. “Find me another sheet of parchment. I’m sure I packed my favorite pen. I can’t imagine leaving London without it.” She popped up from behind the desk and stormed out the door.
He didn’t see what a pin would do unless she intended to attach the page to the wall and throw daggers at it. But he daren’t comment nor deny her. Not with that look in her eyes. He hadn’t lived this long by being foolish. She seemed intent on writing all they knew about the attempts on his life. He didn’t understand her need to write it. Why couldn’t they just discuss it?
After long enough for her to make it to their chambers and return downstairs, she burst back into the room, with a small metal stick held high as if leading a charge into battle. “Now, I can write!”
With a tip of his head toward the blank parchment centered on the desk, he pulled out the chair. “Yer seat, m’lady.”
“You know—if you had agreed to list the names as I suggested, it wouldn’t have come to this.” She flounced into the chair, clicked one end of the silvery tube, and waited, poised to write. “But you refused to do the writing.”
“Aye, I did. And I’m not sorry for it. I dinna enjoy sitting at a desk and scratching marks on paper. I am a man of action—not a man of words on a page.”
“Even when your life depends on it?” She gave him a judgmental hike of a brow that made him laugh.
“I have a canny wife to handle such things now.” After a kiss to her cheek, he tapped on the parchment. “Get on wi’ it, m’fine wee hen.”
“You and I are going to have a long talk about your cheekiness one of these days.” She wrote a column of numbers on the paper. “First three suspects are the Munro gentleman.”
“I thought ye told me to trust them?”
“I asked you if youcouldtrust them. Just because their alibi for today seemed convincing, that doesn’t mean they’re entirely in the clear.” Eyes narrowing, she stared off into space and tapped the tip of her amazing writing stick on her chin.
“How does it make the marks without dipping it in the ink?” He leaned closer and hazarded a touch of the letters. Amazing. The ink had already dried.
“The ink is on the inside,” she said, speaking as if in a dream. With an apologetic tilt of her head, she tapped on the page again. “Do you feel Gilbert should be listed? Fern said he wasn’t inside the walls today.”
“Ye can list him if ye wish, but I dinna think that fool intelligent enough to pull it off.” He strolled over to the window and stared out at the garden, itching to take action rather than make lists.
“Don’t be overly cocky. Remember how a mere shepherd slew a mighty giant with a stone?”
“I doubt verra much that Gilbert is a David to my Goliath,” he said with a backward glance. Her expression halted him, made him focus on her. “What is it?”
“Could you please step back from the window?” She nervously patted on the desktop and motioned for him to come back to her side. “What if the assassin is in the garden waiting to get off another shot?”
While her concern warmed his heart, what she suggested enraged him. “I willna cower within my home, m’love.”
“I don’t want you to cower,” she argued quietly. “I merely want you to be careful. Aware of risks. Please?”
With an indulgent nod, he moved away from the window, poured them both a drink, and returned to her side. He brushed a soft kiss to her temple, then hugged his cheek to hers. “I will heed yer wishes, dear one, because ye have my heart.”
“Good.” She tapped the nib of her writing stick on the next space she had numbered. “I saw a few in the hall who didn’t seem to agree with your promotion of the Munros. Did you notice them, too?”
“Aye, they never agree, and trust me when I tell ye they’re harmless.”
“You feel certain of this?” The doubt in her eyes was unmistakable.
He leaned down until the tip of his nose nearly touched hers. “There is nay a person in this clan who hasna felt anger toward me or disagreed with a decision I’ve made at one time or another. We canna list everyone, or we’ll surely overlook the one we wish to catch.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“We must focus.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then frowned down at the list. Four names, and none of the prospects he felt were likely. “I spoke with Rosstan and Dugan. Both are doing what they do best. If neither discovers the man we seek, we’ll set Kendric on the hunt as soon as he returns. He’ll find them.”
She blew a very unladylike snort. “If Kendric is the man you say he is, then he should’ve already found them by now. Four attempts on your life? What’s he waiting for? Would he prefer to solve your murder instead of protect you?”
“Now, now…dinna be too hard on the man. I know he’s a bit arrogant and set in his ways, but he’s busy ensuring we’re ready for any attacks from the English. The bastards have overrun many a castle in the Highlands.” With an apologetic grin, he interjected, “No offense intended, of course.” He meandered back to the center of the room, almost went to the window, but remembered his promise and swerved away again. “And according to Dugan, Kendric’s woman died a little over a year ago. I must admit, the man changed around that time. He’s nay been the same since.”
“According to Dugan?” she repeated. “I thought you and Kendric were close friends? Why didn’t he tell you himself?”
“We are—but when it happened, I was so embroiled with Annag’s dealings and her backstabbing father that I had no time for anything else.” He paused, clenching his teeth against the bitter gall of guilt and regret. “I failed my friend when he needed me most. I was a selfish bastard. Concerned with nothing but my own affairs. Poor Kendric suffered his loss alone.” He slowly shook his head as he faced her. “The man saved my life once. Nearly lost all the fingers on his right hand in the doing of it. Stopped a blade meant for my throat. If not for old Merdrid binding them tight for months on end, he’d have nothing but a thumb on that hand. He never complained once, and yet I still failed him.”
