Speaking in a level tone unmarred by emotion, Niall said, “We’ve been sent here to retrieve silver intended for the church.”
No one could have missed the heightening of her color, the way she reddened despite her settling back down on the ground and picking up her mending as if to feign indifference.
Ignoring Niall’s questioning glance, Lachlann moved to sit beside her. She stiffened, but he placed a hand on the material she’d retrieved from the ground, the material she gripped as if it would save her. Finally, she looked up at him.
“Finn showed me a fine silver coin.” Well, he didn’t actually show it to him. It had slipped out from its hiding place, but Lachlann felt only slightly guilty for the lie. “Do ye know where he got it?”
Aldred and Niall circled them, moving closer.
Ethne shrugged as if it mattered little. She fell far short of convincing them. “What did it look like?”
She was lying. Lachlann was taken aback at how well he could read her lie, but he knew he was right. Had he always been able to do so with her? Niall and Aldred showed no sign of discerning it. Instead, their gazes shifted from her to Lachlann then back again.
“A man’s likeness on the coin. With a hole in the center. Finn wears it around his neck.” Sitting there beside her, Lachlann felt her entire body tighten as if ready to bolt, but at the same time, he recognized her inner struggle. Turning toward Niall, he asked, “Would ye two give us a moment?”
“I thought ye—” Aldred started, but Niall grabbed him by the front of his tunic to drag him outside.
“No!” Her voice boomed in the small space. Aldred and Niall stopped mid-step.
“Hear me, Ethne,” Lachlann said, but her scathing glance stopped him from saying more.
“I would hear from all three of ye, so I can be sure and explain it to my brother when he returns and finds ye gone.” Her jaw tightened. “And yewillbe gone. Doubt it not.”
Lachlann felt like he’d run a hundred miles, like all the wind in the world would never again fill his lungs. He couldn’t leave her. Not now. Not even if she ordered him to leave.
“Tell us where the silver is,” Niall asked in a calm, controlled voice. “Return it to us, and we will leave.”
“No!”
They all ignored Lachlann’s outburst.
“I have never seen this coin Lachlann described,” Ethne answered. “Finn must have found it somewhere. He’s never shown it to me.”
Niall searched her with narrowed eyes, obviously trying to read her thoughts and if she told the truth.
“Lachlann?” Niall put his hands on his hips and shrugged. “Clearly, she knows nothing about the silver.”
Lachlann pressed his lips flat, torn between knowing deep in his heart that she lied and calling her out, or simply agreeing with his friend. If he did the latter, they’d pack up their few belongings and be gone before the others returned, and that would not do. He had no plans to leave this place without her.
An idea came to him, and he turned to Ethne, wanting desperately to reach out a hand to her, but keeping himself rigid instead. “Is the silver what ye would use to make yer escape after we’re gone?”
When she looked past him, the sadness in her eyes turned into wide-eyed fear. She stood and stiffened. The sound of men, a lot of them, had all of them turning toward the entrance. Lachlann jumped up ready to confront the threat.
Dressed in leather and stopping just within the entrance with a wide grin was the drunk man from the fair. His scar was hard to miss. As was the fact that he was no longer drunk.
“Ethne.” The man said the single word like an intimate embrace. “Have ye been waiting for me?”
“Olaf.” She sounded breathless.
The ground shifted beneath Lachlann. She knew this man?
Armed men pressed in from behind to flank him on both sides. Six or eight, Lachlann couldn’t be certain, crowding along the walls. Damn! He couldn’t think. Only about Ethne. Niall, Lachlann, and Aldred were unarmed. They had no choice but to back up to stand beside her.
Olaf strode in near enough to tower over Ethne. A smile of pleasure on his face, he stroked her cheek. Lachlann’s heart slammed against his ribs and he shifted forward, but Niall jerked him back. Olaf didn’t seem to notice. The galling man had eyes only for her.
“I have been waiting too long for ye,” Olaf said.
When he lowered his head to kiss her, Lachlann’s attempt to intercept was blocked by no less than three large warriors. One shoved him to the ground, a dark-bladed long sword poised at his neck.
