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“Aye,” he said, following Kieran. But a backward glance confirmed what Niall had suspected. Lina still watched him with a curiosity and appreciation she did not bother to hide.

“You play a very dangerous game,” his brother said, noticing the direction of his attention.

“I do,” Niall admitted. “One I should end this very moment.”

“You should,” his brother agreed. Then, with a very loud, very long sigh, Kieran added, “But you will not.”

Chapter Eight

The very moment they stepped into the keep of Caerlaverock Castle, Ewan pulled Avelina aside.

“You will cease speaking with him, Lina.”

Her brother had attempted to gain her attention during the remainder of their journey, but she and Niall had ridden together. She’d expected this conversation much sooner, but now would do.

“I will speak to whomever I please,” she said, having rehearsed the line earlier. As Niall and his brother spoke to the steward, she continued in a hushed tone, “Including the laird of Duncraig.”

“He is the son of the man who killed our father, Lina. And many others.”

Her jaw dropped. “He is?” She pointed to Niall, whose back was to her. The hall, which was on the entrance level of the keep, lay before them. It appeared the evening meal was finished, but the steward escorted both Niall and his brother inside. For his part, Fergus waited for Ewan and Avelina near the entrance to the mostly empty hall. “That man, you say?”

Her brother was not amused. “Lina,” he warned. But she would not give him further opportunity to tell her what she knew already. If there was one man in the world she should not wish to speak with, to have her heart race at the sight of him, to imagine kissing. . . ’twas the one who looked back even now as his eyes sought hers.

Though they’d spoken of little of consequence as they rode—only facts about each of them that most in their lives likely knew already—Avelina had begun to feel a softening toward Niall. That is, if she’d ever been truly hardened against the man.

“Ewan,” she said back to him in the same tone. Though they were nearly the same age, the fact that her brother was chief of their clan lent him, at times, more of an authoritarian role over her. Which, she supposed, was real and not simply her own conjuring. If Ewan wished, he could have her married. She was, in fact, under his control. But rarely did he wield that control as chief and not simply as her brother, like he had attempted to do just now. “I am a grown woman. You know as much and know also how futile your efforts to command me will be.”

His expression hardened. “If I wished it—”

“If you wished it, you could do so. Aye. But you have been there, by my side, for the death of our father. And our mother. And know your strength is my own. Your conviction, my own. And I do believe you trust I am able to make decisions as well as thee.”

She knew it because Ewan had told her, more than once, that he was proud of the woman she was becoming. “Let us go into the hall before our host takes our absence as a slight against him. Though I will admit, I do not see him.”

Avelina had met Laird Caerlaverock on more than once occasion, and he did not seem to be present at the moment. A widower, he’d not yet remarried that Avelina was aware, and only four other Caerlaverock clansmen and two servants seemed to linger in the hall.

Her brother made a sound deep in his throat before relenting. The steward greeted them at the entrance to the hall, and while he and Ewan and Fergus spoke, Avelina looked toward the trestle table where Niall and his brother were seated.

He watched her every move.

Of course, her brother declined to sit with them, though the steward did not seem to think it odd. Likely he’d been more surprised to see them arrive together than he was to watch as Avelina, Ewan, and Fergus sat at the very opposite end of the hall. Immediately, servants came to them offering wine or ale and trenchers.

She sat across from Ewan with a perfect view of Niall. A fact he seemed to notice, the corners of his lips tugging upward as Avelina took her seat. Was he aware she sat this way, rather than offering him her back as Ewan did, apurpose?

It seemed, aye, he did.

“If you will look over there throughout the meal, perhaps you should sit next to me,” Ewan said.

“You cannae continue to stare at the lad,” Fergus, who sat beside Ewan, agreed.

Though Fergus was, indeed, older than Niall, he was not so much older as to warrant calling the chief’s son a “lad.”

“Nay?”

“Nay,” he said, turning to Ewan for support.

“I told her as much,” her brother said.

While the two men talked about how she should best behave, Avelina stole another glance Niall’s way. He watched her as if he wished to laugh but didn’t. Unbidden, a smile formed, a joy she could not place coursing through her.