Page 360 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Hope surged through him and he reached out to caress her cheek. “I was not sure about you lass, until now.”

Her mouth parted in a gasp, and he realized his mistake in letting on that he’d caught the meaning she may not have even realized existed behind her words.

Her eyes narrowed. “I believe you are toying with me.”

“I have never toyed with you, and you know it.” His head was beginning to ache.

“Nay? Even now you tease Jillian and I. Imagine, believing you doubted…”

“Doubted what?” Despite his better judgment, he persisted. “Your feelings for me?”

Iain would never forget the storm that gathered in her eyes at that moment. The only thing undecided was whether or not she was more furious with him or herself. In the end, her remedy came in the form of a hasty retreat, and Iain was forced to allow it.

* * *

That afternoon, Iain watched from an archer’s slit in the north tower as a murmur coursed through the Robertson ranks when they were informed Kevin Robertson was not allowed to accompany his laird into Fauldun Castle.

“You are positive no others hide nearby?” Iain addressed Thomas, but kept his attention on the twelve riders outside the gates.

“Our scouts detected none.”

Iain studied the men. “Their tempers are as dark as the clouds.”

“They have had time to bring it to a fine simmer.”

“Much like those of our own people.” When Iain had crossed the courtyard to the battlements to get a look at the Robertsons, a large group of MacPhersons had already gathered. “Open the gates after I’m below.”

Once allowed into the MacPherson stronghold with his men, David Robertson made no move to dismount and demanded the return of the criminal in much the same way his kinsman had.

“She will not be returned until I have heard the case,” Iain said, not bothering to tell them he’d already sent word to the brother Jillian belatedly admitted having.

The Robertson’s eyes narrowed. “You make a grave error in judgment.”

Iain smiled without humor. “Is that how William will see things?”

David’s hand flew to his scabbard, bringing with it a chorus of MacPherson steel drawn from surrounding sheaths. Not one MacPherson warrior relaxed his stance even when David’s hand grudgingly fell from his weapon.

David sneered. “Iain MacPherson thinks to approach William, leader of the entire Robertson clan, with such a petty matter? He will say the same; this is not your business.”

Iain shrugged. His kilt snapped in the wind as if begging David to try his mood. “So your kinsmen informed me.” Iain crossed his arms over his chest. “If you believe me incapable of standing by my word, then do what you will. But remember, I am not a forgiving man.”

David nodded. “And I am not a man to forget.”

A whisper rippled through the crowd behind Iain when David Robertson wheeled his horse around. He cracked the reins against his horse’s flank and galloped through the gate followed by his men.

When the gates slammed shut behind the last man, Iain turned back toward the castle. He stopped at seeing his captive among the crowd.

Uncharacteristic bemusement played in her features, but before he could speculate what she might be thinking, Maude stepped beside her and whispered in her ear. Sudden panic replaced her puzzled expression, and her attention flew to his face. He started in her direction as Thomas fell in step beside him.

“Is something wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Look there.” Iain nodded in the direction of the women. “See the look on the lass’s face?”

“It is strange,” Thomas agreed. “But then, they have all been acting strange of late.”

Iain stopped. “Strange?”

“I have wondered for some time what they are plotting.”