“Ride with me,” he commanded gently, while seizing her wrist.
Ismay’s heart thumped madly in her breast. That was what she wanted in the first place.
“If ye fall from yer horse, ye will be injured and stuck here longer. Ye dinna want that, do ye?”
Her heart slowed. “Nae,” she answered dully and returned to his horse. “Yer consideration of my desires is appreciated, Chief.”
He lifted her to his saddle, then leaped up behind her.
“What about Radiance?” she asked, trying to turn without falling or having to hold onto him.
“The men will get her.”
“I am fine, by the way,” she let him know when he flicked his reins and they began to move. “I was a bit shaken because I—” She stopped, unable to say it again.
“Because ye told me ye were a murderer?”
She stiffened and nodded. Now shereallyhad to run away.
“I am certain whoever ye killed deserved it.”
Of course he would say such a thing. He was a soldier, a chief with many enemies, and a thief.
“I had never killed anyone before,” she cried, wanting to curl up in something soft, yet safe—like his arms. “I was just a child.”
His arm coiling her waist tightened just a bit. She fought not to panic while the warmth of his touch spread into her. She would tell him…she stopped. He was clever. How long would it take him before he figured out who it was she had killed?
“I prefer not to speak of it any longer.”
“Whatever ye wish, lass.”
She was quiet while they rode to the castle. She didn’t realize her back rested against him until it was time to dismount and she grew cold at their separation.
He walked her into the castle and then looked around. “I will have Bethia see to ye. Ye can rest and then freshen up fer supper.”
It was all he was going to say, proven when he turned on his heel and was ready to walk off with her stammering behind him.
“Will ye send fer me later?” she asked, hating herself for appearing so pathetic, always chasing after him.
He turned and stared at her for a moment, as if he were trying to decide something about her that made his brow dip over his eyes. Then, he nodded and left. “I will teach ye how to fight.”
“Hmm?” Did she hear him right? Why would he do something like that?
“If ye’re ever alone again, ye willna need me to save ye.”
Her brow dipped. He didn’t seem to notice and turned away. She stared at his back growing smaller as he disappeared down one of the corridors. What if she liked when he saved her? Where was he off to? Had he grown weary of her? She couldn’t complain and she wouldn’t follow him. He had spent the entire morning, making her smile, allowing her to weep freely for her father, bringing her into his herd—cautious in keeping her safe.
She smiled now, despite herself.
“I take it that the precious grin ye wear is evidence of a pleasant morning.”
Ismay turned to greet Hugh. Was he always just a moment away? “Aye,” she admitted with a slight blush.
His dark-green eyes dipped to the thistle in her hand. “Did ye pick such a thorny flower when there are others which will not cause ye pain?”
She held it up to study the thistle again. She didn’ttell him the Lochiel had picked it for her. She had a feeling the steward was not speaking of the Highland flora and anything other than that was none of his concern. “Everyone wants to push their noses against those other flowers,” she told him, then looked up from the thistle. “I much prefer the bloom that will prick yer nose if ye get too close.”
“Hugh,” Lewis, the owner of the inn, called out, approaching them. “Dinna ye have anythin’ better to do than follow the Lochiel’s bonnie guest around?”
