“I suspect it is about the same thing that caught MacLeod’s attention, but you’ll have to ask him.”
Thom nodded, not knowing what to say. He was honored and, if he could admit the truth to himself, not a little nervous.TheBruce wanted to seehim? The smith’s son had indeed climbed high.
It was just when his chest had started to swell like a pig’s bladder filled with air that Carrick took out a pin. “I understand you are close with Douglas’s wife and sister? You’ll be pleased to hear that you will be riding with them to Edinburgh.”
Pop.
12
IFELIZABETH WASsecretly pleased that Thom was journeying with them to Edinburgh (andnotriding to his widow), she refused to admit it—even to herself. She knew her brother was less than thrilled—to put it mildly—but there was nothing for him to worry about. There was nothing between her and Thom. Not even friendship.
All right, maybe that wasn’t quite true. There wassomethingbetween them. Something that fired her blood and made her skin hot whenever she saw him. Identifying it as awkwardness and embarrassment, she was sure it would fade when she became accustomed to seeing him again.
Although how she was supposed to be accustomed to seeing him when all she seemed to be able to notice was how ridiculouslyattractivehe was, she didn’t know.
And she wasn’t the only one. She didn’t understand. It had never bothered her before when the village girls used to flirt with him; why did it bother her now to see practically every unmarried female in the vicinity batting an eye—or two!—in his direction?
Perhaps because he couldn’t trouble himself to lift one or two inherdirection. Not once since the night he’d returned with James two days ago had he spoken to her or even glanced her way. But with them leaving for Edinburgh in the morning, she knew that she had to do something to ease the awkwardness between them. She couldn’t see him for hours on end—it would take at least two days, maybe three if the weather was bad, to reach Edinburgh with their large train of carts—and let this continue. People would notice. Like Jo and Izzie, who were already watching her with far too many raised brows and knowing looks.
His words came back to her as she walked across the cold, torchlit yard.“Leave me the hell alone.”She would. Just as soon as they reached Edinburgh, and once she’d had a chance to say her piece.
She found him in the stables. He seemed to be talking to someone—and not in a very nice tone. “So listen up. This is how it’s going to be.”
She stopped and stood on her tiptoes to try to peek around him, but his shoulders blocked her view. Not that she was suffering from the scenery. They were quite impressive shoulders: square, broad, and stacked with thick slabs of round, hard muscle. Or maybe that was considered the tops of his arms? Those were rather impressive as well. She could remember how hard they’d felt when her fingers had tried to dig...
“You try to throw me off or bite me tomorrow, and the next time I need you, it will be for the fellmonger. Do we understand each other?”
The horse—to which she now realized he was speaking—made a loud snorting sound, apparently not too worried about its hide.
Elizabeth couldn’t hold back her laughter. “I see you haven’t lost your charm around horses. I don’t think he believes you. Rather than issuing threats, you might try a lump of sugar.”
Thom scowled at her, whether for the interruption or for simply being there, she didn’t know. Probably both. “I tried that. The demonic beast nearly took off my hand.”
Elizabeth stepped forward, moving around him, having care not to let their bodies brush. The warm, sultry air of the stables was not conducive to forgetting what had happened in the kitchens.Concentrate on the smell, she told herself. But the pungent earthy aroma of animals wasn’t distracting her flaring nerve endings.
“He probably senses that you don’t like him,” she said. “I’ve told you a hundred times horses are sensitive creatures.”
Thom made a sharp sound. “Sensitive my ars—” He stopped, remembering his company. “Not this one. He’s stubborn, pigheaded, ornery, and foul tempered.”
Elizabeth shot him a look that said the horse might have something in common with someone else she knew.
Making a cooing sound as if she was gentling her nephew, she reached out her hand—palm turned up—and let the horse sniff her for a moment. Telling him that he was a good boy, she stroked his neck and muzzle. The horse showed his pleasure in the stroking by lowering his ears and giving a soft nicker.
“Aye, I can see what you mean,” she said, her mouth twitching. “He’s a real black-hearted devil, isn’t he?”
Thom stood back, watching her with glaring eyes and crossed arms. “Do you charm snakes as well?”
She grinned. “I’ll let you know.”
His eyes narrowed, and she laughed again. God, she’d missed this. She’d missedhim.
Elizabeth held the horse’s mouth down with the lead rope and continued petting him, while Thom grumbled (something about the horse being a traitor), finished putting out some fresh hay (peppered with a few carrots and apples, she noticed), and checked the saddle and reins for the following day. He obviously took his riding seriously.
When he was done, he finally turned to her. “Did you want something, Elizabeth?”
The note of impatience in his voice made her bristle; it also reminded her of her purpose. “I wished to thank you for what you did for Archie.”
“You’re welcome. Now if that is all...”
