Chapter 11 #3
“You’ll have plenty of lovely gowns when you return to Lochurkie,” he said to reassure her.
Unfortunately, that seemed to fuel her ire rather than dissipate it.
“Are you reminding me that all I have to do is provide you the names of my guests and I can walk out of this camp without a backward glance?” she asked, her voice the snarl of a wildcat.
“Aye,” he said. “Have I not said that from the beginning?”
Her blue eyes were like chips of ice in the pale beauty of her face. “Oh yes, you made that quite clear . . . in the beginning.”
“Then what is the source of your anger?”
She took several deep breaths before responding, calming herself. “In the beginning, we had not lain with each other,” she said.
He blinked. “But you are not a maid. Surely you did not have an expectation that our dalliance would lead to anything.”
“An expectation?” she asked coolly. “Nay, I am not a woman given to expectations. Few, if any, of my expectations have borne fruit. A hope that there might be more meaning attached to our dalliance than a simple roll in the hay? Aye, that I had.”
“In the eyes of the king, I am a thief, a murderer, and a traitor,” he said. “An outlawed laird. I have nothing to offer a woman of your ilk.”
“Except the odd night of pleasure.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “Save for that.”
She nodded sharply. “We are clear now.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the door. “Come, Gorm.”
The dog, it seemed, had other ideas. It remained precisely where it was, seated at Aiden’s feet, staring at him with unwavering eyes. Aware that Isabail sought to leave the room with an angry flounce, he nudged the dog with his foot. But the beast wouldn’t budge.
Isabail reached the door, and upon realizing the dog was not at her side, turned. “Gorm, come!”
The dog’s gaze did not flicker.
Isabail stomped across the room with very unladylike expression and grabbed the hound’s scruff. Then she pulled him toward the door. The beast was large enough to resist her tug, but it did not. It finally broke off its uncanny stare and trotted alongside Isabail to the door.
When they were gone and silence descended on the room, Aiden dropped back onto the mattress and raked his fingers through his hair.
Well, that had definitely not gone according to plan.
* * *
Isabail walked the deerhound around the perimeter of the hill fort twice.
The brisk chill of the morning helped to cool her thoughts.
It annoyed her that she had indeed developed expectations for how her future might roll out, especially as those expectations were apparently closely aligned to the suggestion Lady Elisaid had made when she first arrived.
She had avoided MacCurran’s mother quite successfully over the past week, but she had not managed to avoid the promise in her words.
What had she been thinking? Daring to dream of a more permanent arrangement with the MacCurran was a foolish mistake.
Her original plan had been to seek an audience with the king and convince him to give her Dunstoras in recompense for her brother’s death.
As part of that plan, she’d intended to offer herself in marriage to a man of the king’s choosing, so that he might use the land to forge an alliance, as well.
It had been such a straightforward and reasonable plan.
Until she’d given her heart to a rogue.
Damn him. Why could he not have remained a villain in her thoughts? A brutal fiend, like her father? Her life would have been so much simpler. Instead she’d come to see him as honorable and valiant—the consummate defender of his kith and kin.
Isabail nodded to the two men guarding the entrance to the inner close and strode toward the hut used by Daniel. She swept aside the fur door panel. Gorm growled low in his throat and balked at entering. She shook her finger at him. “Fine, then. Stay outside.”
Daniel was standing before the brazier, holding his hands to the heat. He turned as she entered and then crumpled with a wince. Falling to one knee, he groaned. “Damn this blasted leg.”
Isabail scurried to his side and helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on her as she guided him back to the mattress. “You are attempting too much, too fast.”
Settling himself with his back to the wall, he shook his head. “I hate being an invalid. You are without a champion in this nest of vipers. I should be at your side, not lying about in bed.”
“Do not overtax yourself on my account. I am fine.” A wee lie, but the truth would not help Daniel. “Give yourself the proper time to heal, and you’ll be up and about in a few days. Stress the wounds unduly and you may find yourself a permanent lame-leg.”
He grimaced. “Not a fate I desire.”
“Then take your rest.” She glanced around. “Where is Muirne?”
“Fetching some food to break the fast.”
Isabail made a quick check of his bandaged wounds. None were seeping. The injuries were knitting, which was good, but Daniel’s face showed signs of strain—dark circles beneath his eyes and a glitter in his eyes that she normally associated with fever. But his face was pale, not rosy-cheeked.
She put a hand on his forehead. Cool, not hot. No fever.
“Have you slept well?”
“Nay,” he said, adjusting his hip on the bed. “I cannot stop thinking about the necklace. I know it’s here. I must find it.”
“I’ve looked many places,” she told him. “The necklace is not here. Daniel, it’s possible that MacCurran does not have it.”
“He has it,” Daniel insisted.
Isabail could have argued further, but she was not of a mind to defend MacCurran at this moment. “I have a need to return to the cave, so I shall look again while I am down there. Now rest.”
He let his head fall back against the wall. “Take care. Do not let him see what you are about.”
“He’s off playing lord of the ruin. He will not take heed of my actions, I assure you.”
She stood, intending to leave, but he grabbed her skirts. “If you find it, return to me immediately. I must know that you have it.”
“I will.” He did not release her skirts, so she gently peeled his fingers away. “Sleep, Daniel. And eat something when Muirne returns. You don’t look well.”
Exiting the roundhouse, Isabail looked for Gorm. But the disloyal beast had not obeyed her command to stay. The spot before the door was empty. Exasperated by the behavior of all the males in her life this morn, she headed for the entrance to the tunnels.
* * *
“You’ve acquired an admirer I see,” Niall said as he handed Aiden a fresh roll of thatch.
“What?” Aiden cast a quick glance around the close, expecting to see Isabail watching him from a distance. She was nowhere to be seen.
“The hound, brother,” Niall said with a laugh, pointing to the base of the ladder on which Aiden stood. There, performing a repeat of the stare he’d given Aiden upon waking, was the blue-gray deerhound named Gorm.
“What does the bloody thing want?” he asked his brother. “It won’t leave me be.”
Niall shrugged. “Ignore it. Perhaps it will tire of watching you and wander off.”
They repaired the roofs on the huts for the better part of the morning, but the dog remained ever at Aiden’s heel. It did not whine or bark; it lay quietly somewhere within a hand’s reach at all times.
“Curious,” said Niall, as they paused to eat the noontide meal and down a horn of ale. “It seems to need nothing but to be near you.”
Ana crossed the close to Niall’s side and graced him with a kiss on the cheek. “You left early this morning,” she said.
Niall pointed to Aiden. “Blame him. He fetched me from my bed before the cock’s crow.”
Aiden, in turn, pointed to the dog. “Nay, lay the blame where it properly lies. The beast stirred me from a restful slumber.”
She eyed the dog. “That will teach you to save a wounded animal. It’s yours now.”
“Mine?” Aiden frowned. “Nay. The hound belongs to Isabail. It was her brother’s.”
“Tell that to the dog,” she said with a wry smile. “I must return to tending MacPherson’s wounded men. All of them, you’ll be relieved to know, will survive their injuries.”
Aiden’s frown deepened. “And what am I to do with them once they are whole and hearty? We’ve no dungeon in which to lock them.”
She shrugged. “If they are sell swords, perhaps you can turn them to your cause with a coin or two.”
A fair notion. One definitely worthy of exploration. “Let me know when they are well enough to gain their feet. I’ll speak to them.”
Ana nodded and walked away.
Aiden watched her depart, then eyed the dog. What was he to do if the beast insisted on remaining at his side?