Chapter 3 #3
Sir Simon Innes’s face appeared behind her eyelids and she nearly cursed.
He drew her to him despite his distrust and his apparent coldness.
If anyone had ever asked her what she sought in a man, nothing she would have replied would have matched that man.
Yet, despite all that was wrong with him, her heart and her body kept saying they wanted him for their own.
That was something she would have to fight.
The man might free her of the nightmare she was caught up in, but he could also lead her to the gallows.
It would be a mistake of the greatest kind to allow the man to get into her heart or her blood.
Matters were bad enough as it was without becoming attached to a man who just might be the one putting a rope around her neck.
“Ye cannae think that lass is a traitor and a killer,” said MacBean after Simon told him why the woman now sleeping upstairs had come to him.
“Dinnae tell me ye think women incapable of such things,” drawled Simon, and sighed when the cat leapt up on his lap the moment he sat down before the fire.
“Nay, they can be as vicious and devious as any mon. But that wee lass? Nay, I cannae believe it.”
“Why? Because she has sweet innocence on her face? Or big blue eyes?”
“Nay. Because she has taken in two bairns nay her own despite running for her life. And that is what she is doing, isnae it? Running for her life?”
“Aye. As is her whole family, the Armstrongs of Aigballa. Soon many of the Murrays may have to do the same.”
“Ah.” MacBean crossed his arms over his thin chest and nodded.
“What do ye mean–ah?”
“Ye will sort this out for the Murrays, aye? Nay matter what ye think of that wee lass, ye will work hard to make sure she is innocent or, at least, that the Murrays dinnae suffer for her crimes. Still dinnae think she did what they say she did.”
“Her dagger in Sir Ian Ogilvie’s heart says different.”
“And ye ken as weel as I that it doesnae mean she put it there.”
Simon rested his head against the back of the chair and sighed. “I do ken that. I also ken that I have naught but her word on who is responsible. ‘Tis nay my way to accept nay more than a person’s word on their innocence.”
“It isnae? Thought ye did just that with both them Murray lads. Ye willnae do it for her because she is a bonnie lass and dinnae try to tell me otherwise. It has been ten years, lad. Bury the past.”
Simon watched MacBean walk out of the room and softly cursed.
The trouble with servants who had been with a man for most of his life was that they knew most of his secrets.
The man’s insight was also irritating. Simon would rather cut out his own tongue with a dull blade than admit it, but MacBean was right.
One reason he hesitated to take Ilsabeth Murray Armstrong at her word was because she was a bonnie lass.
Memories swarmed into his mind and sweat dotted his brow as he fought them.
He had been a fool at eighteen, a fool who had thought himself a grown man and one who knew all about women just because he had bedded a few.
Sweet-faced Mary with her tempting body and tears had led him along by the nose.
His brutal brother’s third wife, she had been only a few years older than Simon, but she had been many years older in guile and experience.
She had even been able to draw him close to the home he had left at the age of ten swearing he would never go back.
Guilt over what he had done could still bring a sour taste into his mouth even though he knew he had not hurt his harsh brother’s feelings.
His pride, surely, but Henry Innes had not loved Mary any more than he had loved his other two wives.
What troubled Simon was that he had not seen the lies, the manipulation, the betrayal.
Neither Mary’s nor Henry’s. He had not seen the truth.
He knew that was why he sought it so avidly now.
Seeking the truth back then had only added to his pain, but that had not turned him away from it.
Simon stared into his goblet at the dregs of his wine and sighed.
He had accepted the beating and the scars it left as his due for breaking one of God’s laws.
What he could never accept was that he had given his heart and sympathy to a woman who had deserved neither, and worried, for a brief na?ve time, about a brother who had no love or respect for him.
No brother should have used his kin as Henry had used him.
He shook away the memory of that time and turned his thoughts to Ilsabeth Murray Armstrong.
It annoyed him that his body hardened when her image appeared in his mind.
He was going to have to be very careful about that.
Simon wanted to blame the sudden, fierce attraction he felt for her on the fact that he had not had a woman for a long time, but he knew that was a lie.
It was something about her, the way she stood firm before his stare, a stare that had made even grown men quiver with fear.
Her glorious hair and her beautiful eyes drew him like a wasp to honey. She was dangerous.
Then again, could he resist if she tried to seduce him to influence his decision on her innocence orguilt?
Probably not, he decided, but he would still seek the truth.
He would just find a little enjoyment and pleasure as he did so.
Simon felt certain that, although his body might succumb, nothing she could do would change him from his course.
It could be that giving in to his lust for her could clear his mind enough so that she could no longer cloud it with her scent and her husky voice. It was something to consider.
Simon nudged the cat off his lap, stood up and stretched.
He would be spending a lot of time in court over the next few days and it was best if he got some sleep.
A man needed a sharp mind to weave his way safely through all the intrigues, lies, and betrayals that went on in the king’s court.
It was good to have another puzzle to solve, he mused as he strode off to his bedchamber, Bonegnasher and the cat at his heels.
It was not until he was settled into his bed that he realized there was another more subtle reason that he was eager to get started ferreting out the truth.
A part of him wanted to prove that Ilsabeth Murray Armstrong was innocent.
Worse, to his way of thinking, it was not simply his thirst for justice that made him eager.
It was a pair of bright blue eyes and a soft, husky voice that acted like a caress on his skin every time she spoke.
Simon cursed. Ilsabeth was definitely trouble and not just because she was caught up in plots, murder, and treason.