He had yet to fully articulate them, even to himself.
Alaric narrowed his eyes. When he smiled, he was a good-looking youth. But when anger showed across his angular face, he had the look of the very devil.
“How so?” he demanded.
Hamish rose from the barrel and drew himself up to his full height, widening his stance on the dirt floor. “Ye misunderstand me, Alaric. I am not asking for yer approval. I am telling ye what we are about to do.” He took a breath. “Ye dinna have to stay.”
In truth, now that he was no longer thinking to storm Greenock Castle, he would almost prefer it if Alaric did not stay. The man was a mighty warrior, but an untrustworthy companion.
Siegfried had been right about that. As he was right about most things.
The Seneschal had wandered over to the open door of the barn. “Methinks we might be wise to stay for a while, in any case.”
Hamish strode over to him but could discern naught amiss. The empty courtyard stretched up to the grand manor house, which was still shuttered up. All was quiet save the gusting wind.
“There is snow coming,” Siegfried warned.
Alaric snorted derisively. “Ye canna tell that. Not with the sky so clear.”
“I can smell it,” the older man stated implacably.
Hamish wanted only to stop this disagreement before another argument took hold. “Either way, ’twill be dark soon.” The slanting winter sunlight which had hurt his eyes had now faded to a colorless half-light. “We must find food and lodging for ourselves.”
“There are sleeping quarters above the adjacent barn,” Siegfried jerked his head upward. “Pallets and blankets all laid out.”
Alaric sniffed again and Hamish rounded upon him. “Are ye forgetting, lad, that we have been bedding down in a cave? Pallets and blankets are luxury indeed.”
He would love to lay claim to a blanket right now.
“One of us must sleep inside and guard the Lady.” Alaric wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“That will be me.” Hamish turned away before he was again inclined to strike him.
“As it should be,” Siegfried decreed.
“We must find food.” Hamish was brisk. “I shall look in the kitchens.”
“I can take care of it?” Siegfried offered.
Hamish did not hesitate. “Ye have done enough for one day. Rest awhile. Both of ye. I shall rustle up provisions and bring them out to ye.”
He deliberately avoided Siegfried’s eye, knowing his old Seneschal would sense an ulterior motive.
Hamish had never thought himself above serving the men who served him in turn. But in truth, he longed to return to the warmth of the hall. To fetch out his cloak and check the security of the building.
But most of all, he longed to return to Isabella.
*
Darkness had fallenand Hamish was busy in the well-stocked kitchen. He had already taken cheese, cold meats and ale out to his men. ’Twas more of a feast than they had enjoyed in days, not that Alaric had thanked him for it.
Now he was stirring a broth for himself and Isabella.
The Lady needed something hot. When he visited her again in the feasting hall, she had seemed frozen half to death, despite the warmth of the fire.
She is too thin, he thought, finding a blanket in a trunk and tucking it around her knees. She had smiled her thanks, but her gaze slid over him and left him disappointed.
He had enjoyed their lively and honest conversation earlier in the day, her flashing eyes and obvious spirit. Now, something of a trance had come over Isabella de Neville.
