“Divide them?”
Her rapid pace halted. She turned and eyed him as though he had sprouted a set of horns. “The English attack both at night and during the day. Do yer men have no need of sleep?”
How dare she insinuate they were naught but a gaggle of fools who had no inkling of how to win a battle. “This is not our first campaign.”
“I am glad to hear it.” She resumed her long-legged stride toward the castle. “I shall await ye in my personal hall where I will see to yer wound. It must be properly cleaned and stitched to prevent festering. The servants will direct ye to my private floor. ’Tis the level above the garrison. Part of the gatehouse.”
“My provisions knave shall see to me, m’lady.” He didn’t come here to be pampered by the mistress of the keep. Although, from what he had seen so far, under other circumstances, he would gladly welcome her attention.
She halted again, then backtracked until they stood toe to toe. Taller than most women he had met, she still had to look up at him, and he could tell she didn’t like it. Good. Something about frustrating this intriguing woman pleased him to no end.
“Ye would insult yer host by refusing aid and hospitality?” Her tone rang with the regal authority of a queen holding court.
“Since it was my host who inflicted the wound, I dare say the insult is warranted.”
“I apologized.”
“Ye did not, m’lady.” He motioned for his weaponry knave to come forward and take his shield and sword, then folded his arms across his chest. His chainmail clinked against the metal chest plate, gleefully ringing out the challenge of his stance. Even in the poor lighting he could tell her delicate nostrils flared. Well met. His challenge had been accepted.
Her hands closed into fists. “I bade ye to hold fast so I might render aid. I dare say that is apology enough since ye couldha been lying about who ye were. Ye would nay be the first group of Scots turned traitor for the Hammer’s favor.”
Edward I, known as the Hammer of the Scots because of his brutal tactics against Scotland, would resort to anything to win. Valan had encountered old Longshanks once. Faced him toe to toe just as he now stood with the lovely Lady Elspet. But before he could separate the man’s head from his body, the bastard’s men rushed in to defend him. By the time Valan sliced through them, Edward was gone.
“Well? What say ye?” She mimicked his challenging pose and jutted her chin upward. “I dare say ye wish to see to yer men afore ye accept the healing I offer. They may see to their rest and refreshment in the great banquet hall. Caerlaverock’s mighty walls protect many right now, but there is room for yerself and all yer men.” Her tempting mouth took on a wily slant. “The English will be quite surprised at the increase in our numbers in but one night.”
Valan struggled with indecision. He sorely wished to either kiss her silent or have her locked in her chambers for her own protection while he sent the English running with their tails tucked. Or both. “Ye are a stubborn woman, Lady Elspet.”
Her mischievous look increased his desire to kiss her. “Ye are not the first to describe me in such a manner, Constable MacDougall.”
“I will allow ye to see to this wee scratch on one condition, m’lady.” While warring filled him with endless energy, jousting with words wore him down. Especially when his opponent was a woman as quick-witted as this one.
“And what might that condition be?” She relaxed her defensive stance as if sensing victory.
“Ye shall grant me a boon for firing on me twice after I clearly announced myself as an ally and not an enemy.”
“I had already loosed the first arrow before ye told me who ye were.”
“That was yer excuse for releasing the second arrow as well.” Perhaps this jousting with words wasn’t so wearying after all. For the first time since they started this dance, he detected the sweet scent of her uncertainty. “Which is it, m’lady?”
“What is this boon ye request?” She cast a quick glance all around as if she feared being overheard. “Well? Name it. We waste precious time, Constable.”
“Call me Valan.”
“That is yer boon?” Even in the shadows, he caught the sleek line of one of her dark brows arching in disbelief.
“Nay, m’lady. Not entirely.”
“I shall grant one boon. Ye dinna deserve two.”
“There were two arrows, m’lady.” He allowed himself a smile but withheld a victorious chuckle.
“Fine.” She resettled her feet like a frustrated hen scratching for bugs. “Pray tell, what is this second boon,Valan?”
He liked the way she said his name. The richness of her voice stirred him, making him long to hear her say his name repeatedly during bed play. “I would have yer kiss, m’lady.”
Both her brows rose this time. “A kiss?”
“Aye.” He offered her another smile, this one more suggestive. “Once ye finish cleaning and stitching my wound, I would have yer kiss.”
