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“Welcome,” she said with a shiver. Perhaps it was time to move indoors. “Can I offer you a meal and a room for your service to me?”

“I will accept both,” he said.

Yet Maisie did not move. Kieran of Clan Duncraig did not move either.

“You are cold.” Removing his cloak, he placed it around her arms. She accepted it, her hands grasping the top portion around her neck.

“First your sword arm. And then your cloak. What would you give me next?” she teased, realizing only after the words left her mouth that they very well could hold a double meaning.

“Likely whatever you asked for, my lady.” His answer was quickly offered.

Maisie did not flirt. She could not afford such a thing, in her position. Any indication of her interest in a man meant she could not expect protection from him, and it was all Maisie wanted of men since her husband’s passing.

Protection.

For herself. For her staff.

And yet, rather than move inside or ignore his statement, Maisie thought to respond. “I would know not what to ask for except your protection. ‘Tis all that matters to me,” she said, her honesty easily given. The man’s eyes, warm now, unlike when he had challenged MacBrannigan, made her wish to continue speaking with him.

“That I can offer as long as I am here. Would that I never see a woman mistreated the way Duncan MacBrannigan has done again, but sadly, I witness such a thing too often.”

“You would very much like Sir Reynard,” she said, the English knight having said much the same to her. It was when she realized she could trust him, despite his gender.

“The English knight?”

Surprised he’d noticed him, Maisie nodded and said, “Aye.”

“He cares for you.”

That was the last thing Maisie would have expected him to say. “I . . .” She was prepared to deny it, but could not. “Aye,” she said instead. “I believe he does.”

“How do you come to own the Red Stag—” He stopped, as if wanting to say more.

“Alone?” She’d heard the question often enough. Expected it.

“Aye.”

“My husband passed last summer. ‘Twas his when we married.”

“I am sorry, my lady, to hear of it.”

“Do not be,” she said. “He was a terrible man.”

That surprised him. “If I may be so bold as to ask why you married a terrible man?”

Maisie would have put her hands on her hips if she could, but her frozen fingers still gripped the cloak at her neck. “Can you not think of one reason a woman of my status would do such a thing?”

Kieran cocked his head to the side, seemingly puzzled. “You do not seem the sort of woman to marry for coin.”

“Indeed? What sort of woman does such a thing? One in desperate need of it, perhaps?” she asked, answering her own question.

“I dinnae mean offense, my lady.”

“Then I will choose not to take offense.” Realizing she had assumed the worst of him, as Maisie often did with men since her husband, she softened her tone. “Another reason could be that said woman had no choice but to do so. The desire for coin was not my own.”

“Apologies, my lady. It seems I’ve defended your honor only to besmirch it myself. Truly, I meant no offense.”

She believed him.