"Thank ye for the food, me laird," Harold managed, mouth full.
"Daenae thank me." Dominic said with a wry smile. "Thankher."
He nodded towards Paisley. She blushed, not entirely sure why his praise felt so good.
"I came here to speak to ye in person, me laird," Harold said, once the edge had been taken off his hunger. "I'm from Thornberry Ridge, which, as ye know, is a fair distance from Keep MacLennan."
"Aye, I ken it."
"Well, I wanted to speak to ye face to face. Look at me, me laird. I'm one of the few that could make the trip. Bandits from across the border attack us frequently, and we are starving. Ye need to do something, me laird. Please."
Paisley glanced over at Dominic to gauge his reaction. The frown was back between his brow, his expression thunderous.
"I paid men to guard ye from the bandits," he said.
Harold scoffed. "Mercenaries. They willnae do a thing without bribes. In fact, they can be worse than the bandits. We have warriors in a neighborin' town, but the mercenaries say that they're acting onyerorders, that anyone who defies them defies ye."
Dominic muffled a curse. "Well, that's a lie. I spent that money on those mercenaries to keep ye safe."
Harold shrugged. "They never see ye, me laird. They helped at first, but then they learned that they could do what they liked, and nay one could intervene. We're sufferin', in many ways."
Dominic sprang to his feet, pacing in front of the hearth like a restless lion in its cage. Paisley could hear snatches of conversation as he spoke to himself.
"Ma was right then," he muttered. "Money's not enough"
"I'm sorry to bother ye..." Harold said hesitantly, but Dominic shook his head, cutting him off.
"It's nay trouble, Harold. I'm only sorry that it's gone on for so long, and that ye had to come here in person. I'll draft up a writ for ye to take back, ordering the mercenaries to do their work or else. But I willnae be far behind it, with some of the Keep warriors to protect ye and train up some new warriors. As to the bandits, that's a bigger problem, but for now, let's just focus on keeping ye all safe and fed, eh?"
Paisley glanced from face to face, taking in the scene. She felt oddly removed, like she was observing a picture in a book. Harold was relieved, the tension melting away from the sharp lines of his body. Brodie still hovered nearby, watching Dominic with barely disguised admiration and awe.
Dominic himself seemed barely aware of this scrutiny. His expression was shuttered, entirely focused in on himself and his thoughts, working through problems in his mind and finding solutions.
As if his gaze were drawn by magnetism, he looked up abruptly and met her eye. Paisley flinched, tempted to look away – a goodEnglish lady wouldneverbe caught looking so boldly at a man – but she held his gaze.
It was too late to worry about beingtoo boldnow, in any case.
Dominic's gaze seemed to burn holes in her, sending rolls of pinpricks down her spine. The moment seemed to last forever, and she wasn't entirely sure how Harold and Brodie didnotrealize what was going on, how they didn't feel the atmosphere, heavy and tense like an oncoming thunderstorm.
Dominic looked away, and the moment was gone.
He was talking now, telling Harold what to do, where to go, which horse from the stables he should use to go back, and so on.
Brodie skipped away to deal with a customer, and Paisley found herself at something of a loose end. She was just looking about for her broom to resume sweeping, when Dominic's long fingers closed around her elbow.
"Let's have a word, ye and I," he said, his voice low.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Harold was finishing up his meal by the fireside, already reassured and happy.
"If you like," Paisley answered, trying to sound light and casual. She could only hope that her heart wasn't beatingtooloudly.
Dominic led her out into the courtyard, and leaned against the wall, arms folded.
"Why didn't you tell me that you were a laird?" Paisley spoke first. She could hear anger in her own voice, anger that she really had no right to feel. Dominic's eyebrows lifted at her tone.
"I dinnae think it was yer business," he said pointedly. "It's nae as if ye tell me anything about yer life."
She flushed. He had a point, but it wasdifferent. She couldn't explain how it was different, of course, without telling him the truth.
