He hoped she would stay.
If she would let him, he would be her voice and shield her from harm.
She started toward the door and hesitated, though she didn’t look at him.
He made no move to stop her, save to say, “I promise to help if ye choose to stay.”
Still she hesitated, staring hard at the door. She peered over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
Broc crossed his arms, letting her make up her own mind. He sensed her strength, her need to be in control. If he begged her to stay, she would go. If he triedto stop her, she would await an opportunity to escape. She must remain of her own accord.
Their gazes held.
She tilted him a strange look, one he couldn’t quite decipher, and then turned around and started walking slowly toward the door.
He waited patiently.
She kept walking, but slower.
And then she halted abruptly and turned. “You truly do not mean to stop me?”
Broc shook his head. “I said what I wished to say. The rest is up to you.”
She turned again and contemplated the door. She was very near it, and he’d yet to move. She took another step toward it.
“I know without doubt,” he told her, “that someone out there is trying to kill you.”
She stopped and cast him a questioning look over her shoulder. “How do you know it was not you the bowman wished to fell?”
“Because the man’s eyes never met mine—not once—though I stared directly at him. He was watching you and only you.”
She screwed her face as though she could not believe him, as though she didn’t wish to, but her gut was whispering the truth and she couldn’t deny it.
“And ye didna see it,” he continued, “but his arrow did strike the tree you were standing near. In fact, had I not brought you down, he wouldna have missed. His aim was true.”
She shook her head, struggling with his revelation. “I-I saw no arrow,” she contended.
“Och, lass, I would have taken time to show ye, if only I could have. Your brother assailed me, and I made the best decision I knew to make.”
She cast him a resentful glance. “My brother was defending me.”
“As I would have, were you my blood,” he assured. His arms remained crossed, and he had still yet to move.
He could tell the instant she began to believe him, because her shoulders slumped, and she turned around, pondering his words.
“Jesu,” she exclaimed, and returned to the table and sat, looking confused. “I cannot fathom why he should wish me dead,” she said low.
Elizabet tried to recall the incident clearly.
Could this man possibly be speaking the truth?
They had been talking in a harmless manner. And truthfully, at the time she hadn’t felt the least bit threatened by his presence, merely annoyed that he was trying to steal her dog.
“My dog!” she said with a gasp, springing up from the chair in alarm. She hadn’t even thought about Harpy in all this time. “She’ll be lost!”
“I’m certain they took care of her, lass, but I’ll find out,” he reassured her. “I gi’ ye my word. And I’ll bring her to you if I can.”
Why was he being so nice to her? Why did he care what happened to her? Elizabet was so confused. And growing more so by the instant. She sat again, her thoughts muddled. Her gut said trust him, though she knew him not at all.
