"A mon caught tight in a lusting for a lass doesnae give it up easily. Aye, he kens ye are a threat to him, but he also sees that ye could be verra useful alive, at least for a while. He will take all he craves until ye prove too troublesome. In his eyes, ye are nearly as important and rich a prize as the laddie. Depending upon how fierce his lusting for ye is, mayhap e'en a greater prize."
"Harold has lusted after near every female he has seen since his voice deepened."
"And I suspicion he has been trying to get ye for nearly as long."
Jolene really wanted to argue that, but could not bring herself to tell such a big lie. Since Sigimor'ssuspicionwas probably born of things she had said during her nightmare, it would be a waste of time and effort anyway. Harold's interest had settled upon her the year she had begun to change from a child into a woman and had never wavered. The few times he had cornered her still haunted her dreams. Her only salvation had been the fact that so few of their mutual kinsmen either liked or trusted Harold that she had seen very little of him over the years.
She wished Liam had not heard and related Harold's plans. It complicated matters even though none of it either changed what she needed or what she wanted to do. No matter what nefarious plots Harold dreamed up, she still had to keep Reynard and herself out of his grasp. Whether he forced her into marriage or not, Harold was still a threat to her and Reynard and would be until he paid for his crimes. She did not understand why Sigimor looked at her as if she had lied to him. She had only neglected to mention a few sordid details.
Yet again she regretted never telling Peter about Harold's pursuit of her, of the attacks he had made upon her. She had been ashamed, had not wanted to cause trouble or, worse, put Peter at sword's point with Harold, and a hundred other excuses she now saw as mostly foolish. If she had told Peter the first time Harold had cornered and mauled her, Harold might not be the threat he was now. Jolene felt sure Peter would never again have let the man into Drumwich.
Quickly, she buried those thoughts which always brought her grief and roused a strong sense of guilt. There were so many ways this trouble could have been avoided, she would make herself dizzy thinking of them and it would gain her nothing. Jolene also knew she really had nothing to feel guilty about. Harold was the guilty one, the only one truly at fault. If she repeated that often enough, she mused ruefully, her heart might finally accept it.
"Are ye done pondering the matter?” Sigimor asked.
Jolene started and looked at him, then recalled that he had been waiting for her to respond to his remark. “Aye, Harold had been a bit of a problem from time to time."
"Yet Peter didnae kill the mon?"
"I chose not to trouble him with the matter.” She sighed. “I was just thinking that things might have been very different now if Ihadtold him."
"Aye, they would have. Peter would have killed the bastard years ago."
"Thank you most kindly for offering me that comfort and absolution."
"Twas but the truth.” He had to fight a grin over the way she glared at him and was pleased that he had banished the sadness from her eyes. “Ye need no absolution. Naught ye have done put your brother's life in peril, or the blood upon Harold's hands. Tis his own greed, nay more. Only Harold is guilty in all of this."
The man was definitely going to make her go mad, Jolene thought. One moment he would say something that made her ache to hit him with a large, blunt object, and look as if he enjoyed making her so angry her eyes crossed. In the very next breath, he would say something to banish that anger, even make her go all soft and warm inside. If that was not enough to make a woman tear out her hair, she did not know what was.
"That is what I told myself.” She grimaced. “It is somewhat alarming that Harold has drawn so close to us."
"Irritating, certainly. In a day or so, depending upon how swiftly we can travel, we will be able to stop at Scarglas. We can rest there for a wee while until I can plan a way to get round Harold and regain some of our lead ere the fool realizes we have left the safety of Scarglas."
"Ye still willnae ask help of our cousins?” asked Liam. “They could easily help us put an end to that threat."
"Nay doubt. Old Fingal would like naught more than having a chance to put the fear of God and several inches of his sword into a few Englishmen,” Sigimor said. “Howbeit, as I have said before, I would as lief nay draw anyone else into this conflict. Aye, a helping hand, but nay more.Wehave a right to cut the mon down, a right I mean to make e'en more clear by forcing him to come after us at Dubheidland. If the death of an English laird causes trouble, let it come to only our gates for we can show that ‘twas just and fair."
"Surely ‘twould be just and fair if ‘twas a kinsmon who dealt the blow for us?"
"Mayhap, but the English dinnae always see things as we do. Aye, the Sassenachs are quarreling amongst themselves now and may not e'en care that one of their own has gone missing. So, too, has the bastard crossed the border, armed and ready to fight. Yet, we dinnae ken how high his allies sit at the king's table or how strong those alliances are. There is e'er the chance Harold's death could bring a loud outcry and I dinnae want any others caught up in that trouble."
Liam sighed, then nodded. “Fair enough. We also have proof that Lord Peter requested your aid."
"We do. And, we have the Lady of Drumwich who begged our aid."
"Begged?” Jolene muttered.
Sigimor ignored that interruption. “She has allies of her own.” He looked at her and cocked one brow. “Aye?"
"Aye,” Jolene replied. “I have allies. Unfortunately, Harold knew who they were and had planned well to halt all and any attempts to reach them. You were the only one he did not know about. Saving the life of a Highland lord was not a tale Peter was inclined to relate to many people, and the few times he did tell it, he did so in a vague way, naming no names. He only told me about you after he had already sent for you. Harold was not the only one taken by surprise when you arrived. I tried to send word out that Peter was dead, but Harold worked swiftly to keep that news from spreading."
"And we didnae speak to many once we entered England. In truth, we did all we could to be little seen and little heard, thus aiding Harold in his secrecy."
Accepting the wineskin Sigimor held out to her, Jolene took a drink from it, then passed it along to Tait who sat on her left. “That was wise. We may not be at war, precisely, but memories of past raids by the Scots are still fresh. I suspect many between Drumwich and the border have suffered some loss in some wild raid.” She sighed. “As many of your people have suffered at the hands of mine. Sadly, Harold appears to be eluding those who might hunger for a little English blood."
"Aye, it does seem as if my countrymen are suffering a plague of restraint, curse them. E'en those border rogues let him be. If I had kenned that, I would ne'er have sent Nanty off as I did. Harold is moving more swiftly and with greater ease than I had anticipated. So, we must plan ways to thwart him, ways to deny him what he seeks e'en if he manages to get his filthy hands on ye and the boy."
Jolene waited for him to say more, to begin to put forth a plan or two, but he remained silent, watching her closely. She glanced at the other men only to see that they, too, watched her closely. It was as if they all knew something she did not and that annoyed her. The men had obviously discussed other plans at some point in their journey and neglected to share them with her. Since this trouble intimately involved her, that seemed grossly unfair. In their great manly wisdom, they probably decided such secrecy was necessary to protect her delicate female sensibilities, she thought crossly.
