“Aye.” Hamish inclined his head toward the shuttered windows. “As soon as the thaw comes, that is. Until then, we must muddle along as best we can.”
“And Alaric.”
Hamish laughed and grasped the man’s arm. “I pray, friend, dinna ask for more of me right now. I dinna have the answers ye seek.”
“The answers will reveal themselves,” Siegfried prophesied.
“Aye. Things are always brighter come the morn,” Hamish quoted another of his mother’s favorite sayings.
Siegfried nodded toward the back of the hall. “There is a pitcher of water and some linen cloths back there.”
“Thank ye.”
What Hamish wanted more than anything was a warm bath. Failing that, a comb for his tangled hair and the time for a shave. It seemed many moons since he rose that morn. He glanced down at his crumpled tunic and wondered if any suitor had ever appeared before Isabella de Neville in such disarray. At least the snow kept his boots free of dust and his breeches free of mud.
In any case, he was not appearing before the lady as a suitor. His new alliance with truth-telling did not extend to making a damn fool of himself. But he knew that the strange push-and-pull conversational games that he and Isabella had been engaged in ever since they arrived here must now come to an end.
This is the end of the line.
He could no longer issue threats and expect them to be believed. If he could not enlist Isabella’s support, he must count his losses and leave Ember Hall without her.
Hamish shook his head as he wearily climbed the stairs. What that meant for Elena, he could not allow himself to consider.
Then he paused at the entrance to her chamber, brought up short by the sight of the fallen door. He had been determined to enter whether she gave her blessing or not, but the fact that she had no choice in the matter made him uncomfortable. He raised his eyes beyond the door, to see that Siegfried had indeed set a fire. The flames licked around a bank of logs, smoking onlyslightly. Isabella was sitting on the hearth rug, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.
Her eyes were closed, although surely the lady could not sleep in such an unstable position?
Still, his heart began to beat faster at the sight of her lovely face in repose. The usual lines of watchfulness were smoothed away, giving her a look of youth and innocence.
How old is she,wondered Hamish.
Younger than he, he would wager.
She was so poised, so alert, so quick-thinking, that she oft gave the impression of having lived through many summers.
So distrusting of men, his inner voice added.With a wisdom that speaks of experience.
Hamish realized with a jolt that Isabella had opened her eyes and was looking straight at him. He offered a short bow.
“My lady.”
She winced. “Must we attend to such formalities? I have not the energy to leap to my feet and curtsy.”
His lips twitched. “On this occasion, we may put them to one side.” He stepped over the door and placed the pitcher of warmed water on the nightstand. Candles flickered from sconces around the chamber; their warm glow of light reflected in the looking glass.
Were it not for the broken door and splattering of blood on the wooden floor, this could be a heartwarming domestic scene.
Hamish cleared his throat. “I have come to tend to yer wound.”
Isabella’s eyes slid from his. “’Tis kind of you to bring water, but I can see to myself well enough.”
Hamish had cleaned many a wound in the aftermath of battle, and he was well-accustomed to the self-reliance that made usually sensible men shun the ministrations of those looking to help them. He stepped closer and squatted beside her,placing firm fingers on her chin and tilting her head so he could better examine the cut on her cheek.
“’Tis deep,” he remarked.
Isabella gulped. “I do not understand it. He only hit me.”
“Onlyhit you?” The remnants of his earlier rage still rippled through his voice. Her breath caught and Hamish forced himself to simmer down. He released her chin and stretched out his long legs upon the hearth rug, affecting nonchalance when in truth, every inch of him bristled with awareness of her proximity.
