“Why do ye always try to run, gel?” the MacDonald chief had asked her.
“I dinna like it here,” she told him. Let him kill her. It would bebetter than—
His thick fingers closed around her wrist. “I think ’tis time to punish ye in another way…”
Ismay closed her eyes and turned away from the last image of her slicing his dagger across his throat and running for her life, covered in his blood.
“Nae!” she cried out.
Almost immediately the door to her bedchamber opened and the Lochiel plunged inside.
He gazed at her leaving her bed. ““What is it? Why did ye cry oot?”
She lifted her hand to her temple. “I had a dream.” Was it a memory? “Wh…what are ye doing here?”
“I was…ehm…passin’ by yer door and heard ye cry out.”
“And ye have the key to my chamber?
“Of course,” he answered. “If ye need me I ought to be able to reach ye.”
She was so tempted to smile at him, though he looked and sounded more serious than a deadly plague.
“But I told ye, I release ye from—”
He waved his hand around her face. “Spare me that drivel. I will be released when I want to be released. And there is nothin’ to be released from. I want to protect ye and I willna be stopped by yer stubborn notion that I want somethin’ in return. That is no’ the kind of man I am. If I am drawn to helpin’ ye, stop wonderin’ why and just leave it to me to do so.”
It was the most he’d spoken at a single time in three days. Could she do what he asked? She should at least try while she was here. If he wanted to keep watch over her, she would let him.
“Were ye guarding my door again, Chief?” she asked with a smile dancing around her lips.
“I wasna guardin’ it,” he explained, back to being wooden. “I told ye, I was passin’ by.”
“Walking the halls, were ye?”
“What? Nae, I was…that is, I couldna sleep.” For a breath he appeared rattled, but then he scowled at her. “Miss Drumond, do I need to remind ye that this is my castle? Do I need to explain to ye why I am awake and was guardin’ yer door?”
Her smile formed fully. She couldn’t help it. She turned away to hide her amusement and to stop herself from reminding him that he had already said he had not been guarding her door.
“Ye are the chief,” she said, growing serious, since being a power-seeking chief was no laughing matter. “Ye dinna have to explain yerself to anyone. Surely, I havena made ye ferget that.”
She knew she was provoking him. One of the reasons she remained unmarried at the age of four and twenty was because she often provoked her suitors, letting her mistrust and dislike of men chase them away. Chief MacRae needed no provocation to become riled up, chopping off her tresses in the sight of her mother.
The Cameron chief was different. For the most part, he remained unruffled by whatever was taking place around him. She enjoyed watching him try to remain unaffected by her, and failing.
“Chief?” she asked, waiting for his reply that did not seem to be coming. “If ye are going to insist on guarding me then accept my gratitude.”
He waited for more but she remained silent.
Finally he nodded and headed for the door. When he reached it, he turned to look at her. “Miss Drummond, tomorrow I may ask ye fer the name of the clan chief who hurt ye. Will ye give it to me?”
How could she? There were MacDonalds in the castle, in the Lochiel’s bloodline. Geoffry and Fionn, and also Hugh to name a few. There was Hilary, Arabelle, Margaret, and Ann, just some of his female MacDonald cousins who Ismay had met at supper. They would hate her, mayhap kill her.
She shook her head. She could not tell him. She would never tell him.
Chapter Seven
Ismay opened hereyes several hours later to sunlight streaming through the window in the north wall, straight into her face.
