He had folded his arms across his chest and was gazing back at her with his head tilted to the side.
“Would ye like me to teach ye?”
He sounded genuine, but Isabella could not decide if he was still baiting her.
“Teach me?” she echoed.
“Aye.” He nodded slowly. “We could begin with something easy.”
Despite herself, she was caught up in the narrative. “Such as?” She raised her eyebrows with all the haughtiness she could summon.
He pursed his lips. “Vegetable broth.”
Isabella felt her lips twitching into a smile. “And then move onto something more complex?”
“Such as good manners,” he finished for her, leaning over the back of a chair as if truly interested in her response.
Isabella could not help it. A chortle escaped her and she looked about for a napkin with which to cover her mouth.
Of course, there were no napkins in sight.
She reached for her tankard and drank until her emotions were back under control.
“That is an interesting proposition,” she said. “That a highland thief could educate an English lady in the ways of good manners.”
He reached for his own tankard. “I speak as find,” he declared. “And I am no thief.”
Once again, Isabella found that she could not help herself. “What can you mean? You speak as you find.”
Hamish regarded her steadily. So steadily, she began to blush.
“I was raised to eat what food was prepared for me,” he said eventually. “And also to show thanks to those that prepared it.”
A rebuke!
Isabella dabbed her lips with the back of her hand and took a breath.
“Forgive my rudeness,” she said as prettily as she could manage. “Thank you kindly, sir, for the lavish spread you have prepared for me.” She lowered her eyes and considered again the offerings on the table. “In particular the bread, which I imagine can be no less than a sennight old. ’Tis a wonder indeed that there is no mold growing upon it.”
He winked at her. “Milady, I had the foresight to scrape away what mold I found.”
She laughed out loud before she could stop herself. “Such chivalry,” she managed from behind her hand.
“I spoke the truth when I claimed to be civilized.” Hamish too was entertained; she could tell by the slight trembling of his shoulders as well as the humor in his blue eyes.
He is a man who likes to laugh, she thought suddenly, picturing him in a different setting, surrounded by family and friends.
This would never do.
Before much more time passed, Isabella imagined she might find herself fawning over his every word.
And he, the man who was keeping her prisoner in her own brother’s house.
She rose abruptly from the table.
“Have you come to any conclusion with regard to my future?” She relished how he flinched from the question and added icily, “I mean, whether I am to live or die?”
Hamish recovered quickly, grasping the back of the chair with his large hands and allowing his gaze to meet with hers.
