“Confusion?”
Her tone remained entirely too amused for his liking. “Aye. The lady of the keep should be safely behind the walls. Not in harm’s way. Running unguarded in the village.”
“Do I not recall ye saying ye foughtwithyer men? Not from the safety of a perch?”
No snub came to him to counter her feckin’ wit. “Aye.”
With an infuriatingly graceful tip of her head, she turned and strode away. “I must see to my clan, sir.” After a few steps, just as she came even with a torch stand, she turned back, revealing a smiling visage so beautiful, he swallowed hard. His cock became even harder. “Yer name, sir, since ye speak as the one in command?”
“Constable Valan MacDougall.” Not to be outdone, he graced her with a regal bow of his head. “Here to ensure that Caerlaverock remains yers, m’lady.”
Her smile faded as she accepted his oath with the merest nod. “A most heartfelt welcome to ye, Constable. Yer skills are definitely needed to see that remains so.”
“We shall oust the English, m’lady. I swear it.” The sudden shift in her taunting mood to that of sadness troubled him. Made him want to fight off her demons until they left her in peace.
“It is not only the English who wish to seize Caerlaverock.” She tossed an irritated glance at their surroundings, then flipped a hand as though shooing the thought away. “But that is grist for another day’s milling.” She stood taller and resumed her fearless demeanor. “Beitris! Come here now!”
He turned to see who the lady called, figuring it to be her maid. As young and lovely as Lady Elspet was, it could not be the daughter rumored to fight at her side. Her child could not be more than a wee lassie and was probably tucked away in the castle’s nursery.
The Lord of Argyll had to have been misinformed regarding the details of the Maxwell situation. The MacDougall had clearly stated Laird Maxwell’s widow and grown daughter fought side by side to prevent Caerlaverock’s seizure by the English. Suspicion coursed through Valan. The MacDougall had been known to play games—especially when his wife got involved. And since Lady Elspet was a close cousin to Lady Christiana, there could be more to this campaign than merely securing the Maxwell lands. He resettled his stance as a smallish lad clad in full armor and helm trotted toward them with a longbow in his hand.
The narrow-shouldered warrior held up three fingers. “Three, Mama. Clean kills all.”
“English for certain?”
“Aye, Mama.” The proud lass tapped the tip of her longbow against the toe of her black boot. “From the smithy’s roof, I could tell by the fighting that these fine, braw Scots hadna been tainted by Edward to turn on us.”
Even though the lass’s elaborate visor and camail hid her face, Valan could tell she was smiling. Gleeful pride filled her voice.
“Then, well done indeed, my daughter.” Lady Elspet waved her closer. “Remove yer helm so ye might properly greet Constable MacDougall, commander of the Lord of Argyll’sGallòglaigh.”
With a graceful sweep of her hand, Beitris revealed herself. The lovely young woman was the light to her mother’s dark. A tumbling mass of bright copper curls framed her face, creamy and pale as fine ivory. Her fair skin glowed in the torchlight. He looked from her to the Lady Elspet whose lustrous ebony mane enhanced the richness of her complexion that was warm and tempting as a lightly toasted bannock.
Lady Elspet smiled and linked her arm through her daughter’s. “Beitris inherited her father’s coloring. But she got my stubbornness—so take care.”
Valan blinked to break his stare. Mother would have cuffed him for such rudeness. Manners recovered, he made an apologetic bow. “Forgive my boldness, but the two of ye seem more like sisters than mother and daughter.”
Beitris snorted, then smiled up at her mother who stood a head taller. “Not original, but he does seem more honest than the others.” She winked, then nudged Lady Elspet’s shoulder with her own. “This one doesna have the nauseating guile of the old dogs Da used to send sniffing around me.”
“Beitris.”
Valan recognized Lady Elspet’s scolding tone as the well-honed weaponry of a true mother. The lady must have borne her daughter at a shockingly young age. He offered Beitris another polite bow. “Constable Valan MacDougall at yer service, m’lady.”
“Might I train with yer men, Constable? I have mastered the bow, but my skills with the sword and spear are sadly lacking. I am in dire need of practice and instruction.”
Before Valan could utter a resoundingnay, Lady Elspet stepped between them. “To the castle with ye, Beitris.” She pointed in that direction. “’Tis times like these that show me the error of my ways. Yer father and I indulged ye too much. Off wi’ ye now. Find Fiona and hie yerself to bed.” After an angry shake of her head, she continued, “Train with the mightyGallòglaigh, indeed. Where is yer mind, girl?”
Beitris snapped her mouth shut into a tight-lined pout. Her cheeks flushed an angry red, and she stomped away.
“I trust ye willna heed her request, aye?” The lady ran a weary hand across her brow as she watched to ensure her daughter entered the gatehouse as instructed. “I had hoped by the age of ten and eight, she wouldha garnered more interest in womanly things, but I fear it shall never be. ’Twill be quite the chore finding a man able to cherish such a wife.”
“States the mother who also dresses in armor and appears quite adept with a bow.”
Lady Elspet turned a hard glare upon him. “My home is loyal to Scotland and King Alexander. Since my husband cared more for Wales than his land or his life, protecting Caerlaverock has become my responsibility.”
Valan immediately regretted his comments—as he often did, since he possessed neither the desire nor the ability to keep his thoughts to himself. “Ye no longer fight alone, m’lady. A score ofGallòglaighare now at yer disposal.” It occurred to him that while she would appreciate their sword arms, she might consider keeping them fed and watered a burden. He hurried to reassure her. “And we have brought enough supplies to not only restock yer stores but provide for ourselves as well. We shall be a blessing. Not a burden, I assure ye.”
Her scowl softened, but her tone did not. “We shall see, Constable.” With a last glance at the now quiet village, she turned and headed toward the gatehouse with the determination and pace of a charging warhorse. “More will come at sunrise. I recommend ye warn yer men and divide them.”
