Page 250 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Can we be of service, my lady?” Talbot asked.

She regarded him intently and, for an instant, he saw his sister in the same cool expression.

“You are Sir Talbot St. Claire,” she said.

The words were not a question and had been spoken with a slight Spanish accent.

“Aye, my lady. I am.”

“I have come to speak with you.”

A strange chill swept through him. “You are welcome in Castle Glenbarr,” he said.

Her eyes shifted past him to the castle, which lay just beyond the village. She seemed to think for a moment, then said, “Perhaps we could sit in one of the cottages?”

“My lady—” the knight to her left began.

“Have no fear, Derek. Sir Talbot will see to my safety inside the cottage. Is that not correct, Sir Talbot?”

“I will guard you with my life,” he replied.

She looked at the knight and Talbot noted the softening in her eyes. “You will see that all remains well here.”

The man’s mouth thinned, but he canted his head in acknowledgement.

“Ross,” Talbot said, “will you ask if we might sit in one of the cottages?”

“Aye,” he replied, and left.

Sir Derek dismounted and helped the lady from her horse. Ross returned and showed them to a cottage three houses down from their work site.

Talbot seated Lady Taresa in one of the two chairs at the modest table near the hearth, and waited.

“Will you sit?” she asked.

“If it pleases you.” He sat in the chair opposite her.

“You have your grandfather’s eyes and his hair,” she said without preamble.

Talbot tensed. “I did not know my grandfather.”

“That is a shame,” she replied. “He was a good man. May I see the picture of your sister on your arm?” That caught him completely off guard, but before he could reply, she added, “It is on your arm, I have heard.”

“It is, my lady. Might I ask why you want to see it?”

“Is it a secret?” she asked.

“Nay.” He waited, but she offered no further explanation. Talbot rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, halting where his shirt covered his shoulder, exposing all but the top of his sister’s head.

Lady Taresa leaned forward and traced a finger over her face. “What was her name?”

“Lilas.”

She removed her hand and leaned back in her chair. “The face is hers.”

Unease lifted the hairs on the back of his neck.

She lifted her gaze to his face. “She never told me she had children.”