by York, Ashley
“Pray tell, is it?”
Iseabail covered her irritation with herself with a shake of her head. Pray tell was not a term a peasant used. He was making her feel very defensive.
“I told yer friend,” the man pointed at Calum, his eyebrows raised in question, “brother, perhaps? I told him to stay to the right of the fire.” He rolled his ‘r’s as he spoke.
“We are to the right…” Iseabail stopped herself just short of doing the same. She and Calum were trying to blend in with the local peasants seeking refuge from the cold. It would not do to give herself away as a Scot. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Had he heard her slip?
“Ye are not!” His voice had become very forceful, and Iseabail’s breath caught in her throat. He glanced around and lowered his voice. “This is the very spot where the women sleep who are looking for a warm bed to share.”
He raised his furrowed brows as if expecting some sort of response. An apology? She knew they should never have tried to come in from the cold. The woods were the only safe place. Tears threatened, tightening her throat. She would not show her weakness.
She dipped her head and pushed to standing. He was a little too close, and she stood a little too fast. Her head slammed into his hard chin, nearly making her lose her balance. He grabbed her with strong hands, righting her. His firm touch sent heat through her body.
Iseabail jerked away from him. The warmth remained, unsettling her as it made its way into her belly. His bright blue eyes were clear, and his hands hovered just above her arms as if about to touch her again. He looked her up and down as if seeing her for the first time. Her pulse started to race, anticipating his touch.
He glanced at Calum before he spoke again. “I do not suppose ye are?”
His voice was quieter, reassuring. As a hired soldier, this man held authority here and had every right to throw her and Calum back out into the cold, but she did not believe he would. What had he asked her? Was she in her usual sleeping place? No, for that was a soft bed in her father’s castle...
The warmth found its way into her head, turning her thoughts to mush. She fought to clear her mind and think rationally. His expectant look was playing havoc with her innards, but was it fear or that singeing heat? However, when his hands dropped back to his side, there was no mistaking her disappointment. What was she thinking? She needed to protect her family, and this man seemed to be a threat. Underestimating their uncle’s need for revenge when they had escaped was her first mistake. She could not make another. If there were any chance she could make him believe she belonged in the castle, she had to take it.
“Aye, I am.” She tried to sound as forceful as she dared despite the look of disbelief that spread across his face. Had there been disappointment as well? Now why would that be?
A cloud seemed to pass over his face, shifting his disbelief to a beaming smile that showed off the dimple in his right cheek. He now looked quite pleased with himself, and Iseabail feared that did not bode well for her at all.