“My father was quite insistent that I should ne’er follow a lady to her bedchamber if she expressly told me not to.”
Siegfried spluttered into his wine. “Wise words indeed.”
“Aye.” Hanish eyed the wine pitcher, but common sense stayed his hand. “But they do not help me ascertain the lady’s health, especially in these cold conditions. If she becomes sick, ’twill be my doing.”
Siegfried waved away a plume of smoke from the fire. “The lady has not forbidden me from venturing upstairs.”
It took a moment for Hamish to make sense of the Seneschal’s words. His instincts were to defend Isabella’s honor, then understanding prevailed. “You could check on her? Perchance light a fire?”
“She doesna have a fire?”
Hamish opened his arms, feeling the claustrophobic heat of his heavy cloak. “Not unless she has made it herself.”
“The lass will be perished.”
“Aye.” Hamish took a few paces away from the flames, glad of the cooler air. Fresh worry pricked at him. “But ye should rest, Siegfried.”
“Dinna fuss. I am much recovered.” He pushed away his blankets and prepared to stand, but Hamish came forward and clamped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Stay awhile longer by the fire. That is not a request. ’Tis an order.”
The older man sank down again, resting his gnarled hand atop Hamish’s for a moment. “It gladdens my heart to hear ye mention yer father so oft,” he said quietly. “He was taken afore his time, but he lives on in ye.”
“Many of our kin were taken afore their time.” Hamish searched for Brianne, but she did not appear. He made an effort to shake off a swell of grief. “Will ye manage things here if I go on out ter the barn?”
The horses needed water, no matter that the well was frozen. And Hamish did not like to leave Alaric so long unattended. Not when dislike of the English permeated his every thought.
“Will ye make up yer mind? Ye just told me ter sit by the fire.”
Hamish was glad to see a flash of mirth cross over Siegfried’s familiar features. As much as he longed for news of Isabella, he could not risk his old comrade’s health.
“Ye are ter sit here until that log has burned low.” He pointed to the smoldering log in the grate. “Is that clear, old man?”
“Get outta here.” Siegfried flapped his hands and Hamish nimbly dodged out of the way.
“I shall be back,” he called over his shoulder.
Outside, a brisk wind blew his cloak around him, causing a shiver to run the length of his body. The cold air stung his eyes and when his feet slipped from under him on the ice, Hamish found himself cursing the English and the ill-conceived plan that brought them here.
Most of all, Lord Gaunt, he reminded himself, rubbing his back and pushing himself onto his knees. Hamish had never longed to run any man through with his sword, but he wouldgladly end the life of the man who had laid claim to both his lands and his sister.
“Dinna allow anger into yer heart.”
The piping voice spoke directly into his ear.
“That is what Mother always said,”Brianne added, kneeling beside him on the cobbles.
“Aye.” Hamish heaved himself upright. “I was wondering when ye might show yerself.”
“Well, ye have been so busy with herself in there.”Brianne jerked her head toward the hall, her chestnut curls almost flattened by the hostile wind.
“I have not seen her for two days,” he corrected her.
“But ye have thought of little else,”Brianne said, stretching out her legs as if she sat on some grassy knoll on a warm summer’s day. “And when ye are thinking of her, ye dinna think of me.”
He put a hand to his forehead. “I shall always think of ye.”
God’s blood. No one could ever take Brianne’s place in his heart and mind.
The sister I should have protected.
