“What’s going on?” Colban asked Angus as he rode his mount closer to him. “Does she think to kill the mon who wanted to wed with her?”
‘Twas the only explanation that made any sense. Clearly the knight Xenocann had left Rome to find Lady Octavia. Angus would have to be certain ‘twas he that was found first. “Mayhap, aye.”
“Of course she does,” Doctor muttered. “I just want away from the damned thing.”
The knight would never get near the lady. For a certainty Angus would not abide such an encounter. He would kill the mon himself.
Angus sheathed his sword and held out his hand. “Come, milady. ‘Twill be all right. I will not let the mon come near to you.”
Her eyes widened again. She kept her death stick with her, but accepted his hand to remount the horse. “Please,” she whispered so only Angus could hear, “you must trust me.”
“I do.”
“Then let me kill it. I know exactly how to do it.”
His dark gaze studied her light one. “Why do you call him an it?”
She blinked. “Because heisan it. It isn’t worthy of being called a man or a woman.”
He wasn’t altogether certain she was making sense, yet her intensity was unnerving. He decided to pacify her—for now. “Let us continue on for now, aye? We can discuss who kills whom later.”
She nodded. He snorted.
“What?” she asked, staring at him.
“This conversation,” Angus said, smiling. He noticed that her eyes trailed down to his lips and back. “’Tis the strangest I’ve ever had with a woman.”
“I’m not the usual kind of woman.”
“You dinna hear me complaining, lass, now do you?”
Octavia wanted the feeder dead now more than ever. It wasn’t behaving as it should, which had her more than a little worried. Angus wanted to kill the thing for her. It was sweet, even if it shouldn’t have been. But then he thought the Xenocann was a knight who was a rival for her affection.
Oh dear lord, James had been right. Angus really did have a thing for her. The knowledge made her heart pound. It also made her smile to herself.
She grew more determined than ever to find the feeder and kill it before Angus encountered it. She hated having all these lies between them—more so now that she was aware the feeder was traveling north toward the laird’s homeland. Angus needed to know what he could be up against, yet he’d think she was insane if she even tried to tell him the truth.
Sighing, she resigned herself to silence and stony vigilance. Octavia wasn’t accustomed to being protected, but she was damn good at being the protector.
She would protect Laird Angus Karrik with her life.
Whether he wished for her to or not.
The moon was just rising on the third eve when the group arrived at the home of Magnus and Iohanna McClintock. Allies to the Karriks, Angus knew he, his men, and his guests would be welcomed here by the older couple. Magnus had been chieftain over his clan for the better part of twenty years. ‘Twas only recently that the fiery-headed mon with the fiery-headed temper had stepped down as laird that his son might rule. Magnus had retired with his wife to one of the thatched roof huts made especially for the elders. There were but two. Angus quickly discovered that the second of the elders’ homes was vacant. ‘Twas where Magnus’ sire had dwelled until the fever took him a fortnight ago.
“Lady Octavia,” Lady Iohanna said. “You will sleep this eve in the empty hut next to ours.” Her smile was welcoming. “But first please join us for the evening meal.”
Servants aplenty had been sent down from the main house not long after The Karrik’s arrival. There wasn’t enough room at Magnus’ table for the whole of their party to break bread so ‘twas Angus and Lady Octavia who were given that honor. The rest of their group ate outside.
“Our son would have been honored to receive you, Laird,” Lady Iohanna said. “’Tis unfortunate he is away putting down a rebellion to the east.”
“The Rosses and the Douglasses are at it again?” Angus asked.
“Aye.” She rolled her eyes. “When are they not?”
Angus smiled at the lady’s assessment. She had the right of it.
“I heard Bothwell fell to the bluidy English again,” Magnus grumbled. “Why canna the Lowlanders hold their own?”
