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Suddenly, with a burst of energy, the stranger maneuvered behind MacBrannigan’s back and delivered a decisive blow. MacBrannigan’s sword fell from his grasp as he collapsed to his knees, signaling his defeat.

The crowd erupted into applause.

“I would aid you in standing,” the stranger said. “But you do not deserve such respect.”

The crowd began to disperse.

“Right bastard, like your father,” MacBrannigan muttered.

Maisie watched as the stranger’s jaw clenched. But he said nothing. MacBrannigan stood, he and his men glaring at the stranger. He then turned his gaze to her.

“They will not always be by your side.” MacBrannigan nodded to the stranger and Sir Reynard, who stood next to him.

“You are wrong,” she spat, grateful for the stranger’s defense but angry at the truth of his words. “Most respect the Red Stag as a haven for weary travelers and would hasten to defend it from those who wish to see the peace here shattered. Go. And do not return.”

MacBrannigan’s laugh echoed behind him, the blatant disregard for her words evident. She began to follow him, to tell him her thoughts on his laughter, but a hand stayed her.

Maisie looked down at the hand. Large. Strong. Fingers wrapped gently around her forearm. When she glanced up, he was watching her.

“Let him go.”

His voice was so different than when he’d spoken to MacBrannigan. Still deep, but the hard edge was gone.

He was right, of course.

When his hand dropped, the loss of its heat immediate, Maisie had the odd notion of wanting him to grasp her arm again.

“Many thanks,” she said as most of the crowd left, with the exception of Sir Reynard and his companions.

She smiled at the English knight now, knowing he would have defended her. Sir Reynard bowed as the stranger watched their exchange. And then the Englishmen moved off, back into the inn.

“For coming to my aid,” she finished to the stranger.

“You’d do well to avoid such a man. He wreaks havoc everywhere he goes.”

“I wish that I could. He comes here for such a purpose.” Maisie swallowed, cold but not wanting to go inside if it meant an end to their conversation. He was such a pleasing man to look at, much more than most. Or any, truth be told.

“I am surprised,” he said. “MacBrannigan land is close enough to here that he should not need to frequent your inn.”

Your inn. “How did you know I was the innkeeper?”

“Because I asked one of the serving girls about you.”

“Did you?” Maisie’s heart raced. “What did you learn, precisely?”

“Naught but that you are the owner of the Red Stag. I know not even your name.”

“Maisie,” she said. “And yours?”

“Kieran of Clan Duncraig,” he said, his voice changing as he said “Clan Duncraig.”

“I’ve heard of your clan but know not from where you hail.”

“Northeast of here,” he said. “Two, mayhap three days ride.”

“You’ve not been to the Red Stag before?”

“Nay. I’ve not.”