James tilted his head, like he couldn’t deny the logic of this. “More like three-quarters,” he opined.
Eilidh knew when to press an advantage. “See?” she said sweetly. “You arenae needed. I can handle this alone.”
“I dinnae think so.” Ewan Buchanan strode through the door, a forbidding frown on his face.
Eilidh shot James a betrayed look.
“Ye told Ewan?” she complained.
But it was the Laird himself who replied. “Ye mean did the Captain of my Guard tell me, the Laird of this Keep, that a mysterious stranger arrived, half-dead, on an unknown horse, while we are in the midst of a war?” He arched a skeptical brow at Eilidh. “Aye. He did.”
Well, when he said it likethat,it made her seem foolish.
“I justmeant,” Eilidh retorted with a huff, “that ye should be pacing outside Ailsa’s door or something of the like. Isnae that what new fathers are meant to do?”
Ewan scowled at her. Right. Perhaps she ought not mention his wife’s current ordeal. Men did get so touchy about such things.
“That isnae the point,” he said tersely. “What matters is that there is a man, who could very well be here as a spy, in my keep.”
“I’m nae saying this means we should trust him,” James added, clearly speaking to his Laird and friend andnotto Eilidh. She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at them, but only because she was trying to present herself as the kind of mature, reasonable person who could be trusted with this newcomer.
But theydeservedto have a tongue stuck out at them. Men were soannoying.
“But,” James continued, “I dinnae think he could be faking these injuries. They’re extensive.”
“I dinnae like it, though,” Ewan replied,stillignoring Eilidh. “A man doesnae just appear out of nowhere.”
“Aye,” James agreed, “and he has a fine mount, too. Your typical brigand wouldnae have such a fine stallion beneath him.”
Eilidh cleared her throat pointedly. The men paused, looking irritated at the interruption, but she just smiled. It wassosatisfying to prove naysayers wrong.
“It’s a Donaghey horse,” she said sweetly.
They stared at her for a moment. It was precisely as gratifying as she had anticipated.
“I beg your pardon?” Ewan said.
“The horse,” she repeated carefully. “It’s from the Donaghey stables. I dinnae ken this exact horse’s name, but the sire is Bramble and the dam is Kenna. They’re a good, strong line. He’s a good, strong horse. A Donaghey horse,” she concluded triumphantly.
“That’s… suspicious,” Ewan said after a full breath’s hesitation.
Eilidh frowned, seized by a sudden defensiveness on behalf of this poor, unconscious man who couldn't even speak in his own defense.
“No,” she retorted. “No, it isnae. It’s a Donaghey horse. We’re Donagheys. Where else would he get it, if not from Graham?”
“Well, ye will recall that Gordon recently occupied Castle Dubh-Gheal.” James said it kindly enough that it was clear that he hadn’t intended to make her feel stupid—something that of course had the effect of making Eilidh feel twice as stupid as if he’d been rude about it.
She hated when they treated her like she was the foolish little sister. But she hated it even more when they were right to do so.
Much of her confidence slipped away, though she found that her determination was renewed when she dared a glance over at the unconscious stranger.
Hewasn’tan enemy. Somehow she just knew it.
She lifted her chin in Ewan’s direction. Even if this man was an enemy—which hewas not—he needed to be healed.
“Well, we will never ken which one of us is right if he doesnae wake,” she said firmly. “So he will need a healer. And someone to tend to him.”
Ewan had a stubborn sort of look on his face, like he was going to deny her—in Eilidh’s opinion very reasonable—request. But just at that moment, a cry rent the air; Ailsa, suffering one of the pangs of childbirth. The yelp sounded more based in exertion than anything truly amiss, but Ewan went as pale as Eilidh had ever seen and his head jerked around. He glared in the direction of the sound as though he could help soothe his wife’s pain from sheer force of will.
