“I ken.”
Mayhap ’twas neither wise nor polite to parody the highlander’s brogue, but Isabella had little idea how to handle this spiraling situation. All she was certain of was this—her earlier show of strength had resulted in a warm fire and a comfortable chair.
“I am not so foolish as to attempt combat with an armed man.” She nodded toward the helm of his sword, which gleamed at his hip. “I grew up with two brothers and learned that lesson at an early age.”
He blanched as she mentioned her brothers and she recalled how his voice had changed when he spoke of his sisters.
A family man.
Perchance this was another tool she could use against him.
For Isabella had no intention of putting up a fight. But neither was she prepared to accept her lot as a sacrificial victim. As Hamish stomped toward the front door, she leaned her head back in the chair and closed her eyes.
How would Tristan get out of this, she mused.
She had been raised as a Lady. But now she must think like a knight.
Chapter Five
Hamish would haveliked some time alone to mull over this turn of events, but he knew it was not to be. As soon as the front door closed behind him, he sensed the wall of Alaric’s displeasure.
The dark-haired warrior was waiting for him at the bottom of the wide stone steps, his arms folded and his eyes flickering dangerously.
“Does Siegfried speak the truth?” he demanded, before Hamish had fully descended the steps.
It had been cold all day, but mayhap Hamish had grown overly used to the warmth of the fire inside, for now the freezing air wrapped around him like a vice.
I dinna have a cloak, he realized belatedly. He had flung Gaunt’s livery onto the flames, then grown distracted by the golden-haired beauty sitting beside him when he meant to reach into his pack and fetch out his own cloak.
The cloak of the Laird of Greenock. It had seemed pressing important to remind himself—as well as the lady—who he rightfully was. For Isabella de Neville made him feel like a peasant with her haughty ways and sharp gaze. With her calm demeanor and air of assurance, which had not faltered even when she realized the gravity of her situation.
She took his breath away.
“Well?” Alaric barked.
Hamish would not allow one of his own men to rile him. “Well what?” He reached the bottom step and came to stand quite deliberately in front of the younger man.
“Does Siegfried speak the truth?” Alaric repeated.
“Aye, most often he does.” Hamish put his head to one side as if considering the matter.
Alaric hissed, “Ye know what I mean. Must we stay in this cursed land e’en longer?”
“This land isna cursed. I’ll wager on a clear day, ye can see Scotland from yon highest part of the moors.” Hamish pointed to his left, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around him to preserve what little bodily warmth he still had. “Where is Siegfried?”
“He is feeding the horses.”
“Whilst ye wait here in the cold for me?”
“I want to know what ye have planned. I didna join yer ranks to live on an English farm.”
“Ye dinna have to set a single foot inside the place. Let us go now and see if sleeping quarters can be found in the barn.” He clapped a hand on Alaric’s shoulder and forcibly turned him away from the hall.
’Twas not for want of keeping his word to Isabella. At least, ’twas not only that. Hamish had a strong urge to keep Alaric away from her.
He did not trusthim. That was clear enough.
And he felt an overwhelming need to protecther.
