“I’ve been alone before, lad,” Colban said. “Go on now and do what your sister says.”
He was making a point. Letting her know Ian had indeed revealed he was her brother. It was Colban’s way of telling her he was well aware of the leverage he was giving up by not seizing the lad.
“Will you at least keep him company, Hallie?” Ian asked as he climbed down from the bed.
“Of course.” She gave the Highlander a grim smile. “I’ll be watching his every move.”
“Fine,” Ian conceded with a sigh. “But I have to put away the chess pieces first.”
“I’ll put them away,” Colban offered. “Ye go on now. Go eat.”
Ian looked crestfallen, but he grabbed his notebook and quill and climbed off the bed.
“I’ll be fine,” Colban assured him. “Besides, I obviously need to practice my game if I can be trounced by a scrap of a lad.”
Ian grinned.
As Hallie ushered her brother to safety out the door, her mind whirled like a tempest.
On one hand, she was grateful for the Highlander’s mercy.
On the other, she knew it gave him an advantage.
Because he had shown restraint, the scales were tipped in his favor. She owed him a debt of honor.
And because she now knew things about him, because he’d shown his true colors, she could no longer consider him a nameless, featureless foe.
He was Colban an Curaidh, poor orphan, unfortunate bastard, worthy champion.
She lifted a brow. She was beginning to understand why he was called The Champion. He really did look heroic, standing with proud confidence in the glow of the fire, his arms crossed in challenge.
He was chivalrous enough to confront wolves in her defense. Honorable enough not to harm an innocent child, even when it would be to his advantage.
He deserved her gratitude.
With one hand on the door, she murmured, “My thanks.”
He shrugged. “I vowed I’d hurt none o’ your clansmen.”
“So you did. But you wouldn’t be the first man to break a vow.”
“Fair enough. But may I give ye a piece of advice?”
She bristled. What possible advice could he have?
His eyes smoldered with humor. “The next time ye want to rescue a wee lad from a brawny foe, ye might want to bring a blade.”
Heat flushed her cheeks. Being unarmed had been a tactical mistake on her part. But she wasn’t about to admit it.
She gave him a grim smile. “I assure you I’m just as deadly with my bare hands.”
Then she ducked out the door before he could test that lie.
Chapter 10
Hallie was glad the Highlander couldn’t see her as she paced outside the door, fuming. It was completely unlike her to charge into a possible conflict without her sword. Hell, it was completely unlike her to be fuming.
What was wrong with her? What was it about the Highlander that made her feel off-guard? Off-balance? And out of sorts?
Hallie prided herself on ruling with an even temper. While others panicked around her, she cultivated an air of composure. It was the key to good judgment.
As a leader, she was efficient. Fair. Diplomatic. She never let emotions interfere with her decisions.
She had experience beyond her years. It was part of her training to be laird. She’d solved disputes. Issued orders. Taken prisoners. Fought in battle. All with an uncluttered mind and a steady hand.
But this hostage was ruffling her unruffled calm.
What was it about Colban an Curaidh? His courteous manner? His trickster’s tongue? Those deep brown eyes that danced when he spoke? His inexplicable kindness? The charming lilt of his words? His tragic past that tugged at her heart? Or the impressive cut of his figure that disrupted her senses?
She whirled and sent her skirts swirling like a violent squall around her. And then she stopped, closing her eyes, willing the storm to quiet.
Surely it was none of those things.
One man could not affect her so profoundly.
She was only concerned for the welfare of the clan. Aware of the danger and the high stakes of her choices. Wary of making an incorrect decision when the entire responsibility rested on her shoulders.
Calmer now, she was still relieved when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Rauve was returning to take up his post. And he would have had the foresight to bring a weapon.
When she turned, however, it wasn’t Rauve who appeared, but her conniving sister with a platter of food.
“What are you doing here?” Hallie demanded.
“I’ve brought dinner for Colban….unless…” Her wide and innocent eyes filmed over with ridicule. “You don’t mean to starve him until he bends to your will, do you?”
“Isabel,” Hallie bit out in warning.
“’Tis rather cruel. But ’tis no worse than your beating him, I suppose.”
“Once and for all, I didn’t beat him, Isabel.” She took a step forward, wagging her finger in Isabel’s face. “And I gave you direct orders not to fraternize with the prisoner.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Isabel shrugged. “Besides, I’m not going to…frat-whatever with him. I’m only bringing him food. Ian told me you were going to dine with him.”
“What?”
“His words were you ‘didn’t want Colban to be lonely’.”
Hallie would have to have a talk with Ian about the definition of a hostage. And she didn’t care for the hopeful gleam in her sister’s eyes.
Isabel continued, waxing romantic. “’Tis such a merciful gesture on your part. An offering of peace to a tortured soul. Sharing a meal and conversation. Gazing—”
“Nay,” Hallie said, refusing to be maneuvered by her little sister. “You go in. Leave the platter on the table. And come straight back.”
Isabel was visibly disappointed, but she nodded. “Fine.”
She carefully opened the door for Isabel, aware Colban could be crouched behind it, ready to spring.
He wasn’t. He was standing at the window. When he turned, the setting sun made a halo around his blond head, making him look like an angel. A powerfully handsome angel with broad shoulders, a massive chest, and sparkling brown eyes.
“Sir Colban!” Isabel cried, dashing into the room past her.
Hallie, choking, made a grab for her and missed.
“I’ve brought you dinner,” the willful maid gushed.
Ignoring Hallie’s instructions, Isabel rushed directly up to the Highlander and pressed the platter into his hands.
He gave her an uneasy smile. “My thanks.”
“Isabel,” Hallie hissed. Her silly sister had practically cornered the poor man against the window.
“Oh!” Isabel exclaimed in feigned surprise. “I’ve brought enough for both of you. Hallie thought you’d like company.”
Hallie gave her a chilling glare.
“Did she?” he asked.
“Oh aye,” Isabel insisted. Then she added in a loud whisper, “She might look fierce, but she has a tender heart.”
“That will be enough, Isabel,” Hallie said. “Leave the food and go.”
“Aye, m’laird,” Isabel said on a sigh, giving Colban a brief curtsy.
As she headed back toward the door, she winked broadly at Hallie. When she turned to flutter her fingers in farewell to the Highlander, Hallie smacked the mischievous maid on the bottom. Isabel yelped and hastened out the door.
When Hallie’s gaze returned to the prisoner, he was still standing by the window, resembling an angel. A fallen angel, she amended. From his bruised face, it looked as if he’d taken quite a tumble out of heaven.
“Ye don’t have to keep me company,” he said, guessing Isabel had fabricated her offer. “Though, as ye can see, ’tis too much for one man.”
She lowered her eyes to the platter. A large trencher of fresh-baked bread sat in the middle. By the mouthwatering smell wafting through the chamber, it was filled
with beef pottage. Beside it was a salat made of winter greens. Atop a linen napkin were a pair of apple coffyns, still steaming and fragrant. And two empty silver goblets stood beside an open bottle of red wine. Expensive French wine that should have been reserved for honored guests.
She licked her lips. She hadn’t had time for breakfast, and she’d only picked at supper. It seemed like a shame to let all that food go to waste.
“Ye may as well join me,” he urged.
Despite the hunger pangs in her belly, she told him, “I don’t fraternize with prisoners.”
“Fine. I won’t fraternize with ye. We’ll just sup together, and I won’t say a word.”
She smirked. His eyes were dancing. He clearly had about as much respect for her boundaries as Isabel did.
Then again, what could it hurt? Was she so weak-willed that she couldn’t sup with the man without losing her power over him?
He was her prisoner. She was laird here. This was her castle. Her servants. Her food. Her domain.
“I’ll sup with you,” she agreed, closing the door behind her. “But only so I can keep an eye on you.”
Colban suppressed a smile. For a prisoner with whom no one was supposed to fraternize, he certainly had a lot of people keeping an eye on him.
But he didn’t mind having the Valkyrie as his guard. She was beautiful and fascinating. Even if they said nothing, she was a lovely sight to look upon, with her fair tresses, her crystal eyes, and lips that rivaled rose petals in their velvety perfection.
He cast about the chamber, looking for a place where they could share the dinner. Only the bed afforded enough room. So, ignoring the disconcerting detail that they’d be sharing a bed, he set the platter in its midst.
As wary as a wildcat, she took a seat across from him. Then she offered him the spoon while she poured the wine.
His hunger heightened the flavor of the pottage. The beef was tender. The herb-filled broth was thick and rich with cabbage, neeps, and onions. It was difficult not to eat the whole meal himself.
But when he’d finished half, he handed the spoon to Hallie and started on the salat. By this time in the Highlands, the greens were gone, grazed by beasts or buried under snow, so it was a rare treat to enjoy fresh fennel and parsley.
Only the wine was a disappointment. It was cloyingly sweet. But he was thirsty, so he gulped it down with a wince and a slight shudder.
When he put down the empty goblet, Hallie was regarding him with horror.
“You’re supposed to sip it,” she scolded, “not guzzle it down. Have you never had wine before?”
“I’ve had it once before. At Morgan’s weddin’. But it didn’t taste like this.”
She arched an indignant brow. “You probably can’t get good French wine in the Highlands.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. To be honest, this is a wee bit hard to swallow.”
Hallie frowned and took a sip of her own wine. Then she made a face of such pure disgust that Colban couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What is this?” she asked, peering into her goblet as if the answer lay there. “Something’s wrong with it.”
Colban’s grin faded quickly as a terrible thought came to mind. “It hasn’t been poisoned, has it?” Bloody hell. He’d gulped down the whole goblet.
“Nay.” But he could see by her expression that she wasn’t certain of that. “Surely not.”
Colban suddenly felt sick, as if poison were already infiltrating his veins. “Your older brother—”
“Gellir? If he wanted you dead, he’d use a blade, not poison.” Her reassurances were less than reassuring. “Besides,” she reasoned, “there were two goblets. Who would want to poison both of us?”
She sniffed at the bottle, then filled his goblet with the rest of the wine. A sprig of something fell out.
“What’s that?” he asked.
She pinched it between her thumb and finger to examine it closely.
“Rosemary.” She took a sip from the goblet. “And honey.” Her sigh was like a breath of frost. “Isabel.”
Why sweet Isabel would want them dead, Colban couldn’t fathom. And as far as he knew, rosemary and honey couldn’t kill a person. “’Tisn’t poison.”
“Nay.”
“Then what is it?”
“’Tis a potion.”
“A potion?” His brows shot up. “What kind o’ potion?”
She muttered under her breath, “A love potion.”
Colban coughed. Or laughed. He wasn’t sure which. While he was deciding whether that was amusing or mortifying, a young voice floated up from outside the window.
“Colban!”
He and Hallie exchanged frowns.
“Colban!” the cry came again. It sounded like Ian. The lad must have gulped down his dinner. “Come quick!”
Hallie rounded on Colban with a chilling glare. “Did you put him up to something?”
“What?”
“Did you tell Ian to help you flee out the window?”
The idea was absurd. “Why would I—”
“Because if you endangered my brother in an attempt to flee…”
“I don’t intend to flee.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you intend to flee. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Colban!” Ian called insistently. “Come to the window!”
“If I wanted to flee,” he told her, “I certainly wouldn’t do it in the broad light o’ day. And not with a wee lad yellin’ loud enough to alert the whole keep.”
She bit the corner of her lip. Surely she could see he was right. But then her eyes narrowed to dubious slits. “Still, you don’t deny you’ll try to flee.”
“I do deny it,” he said. “If I wanted to flee, I’d have done so by now.”
She scoffed at him. Clearly she didn’t believe him capable. And that chafed at his pride.
Nonetheless, he told her calmly, “Hear me well, m’lady. I want peace as much as ye do.” He had no wish to see how Morgan’s diminished forces would fare against the knights of Rivenloch.
“Why should I believe you?”
Bloody hell. There had been several times he could have seized the advantage. As secure as she thought this bedchamber was, he’d already glimpsed numerous avenues of escape.
He could have taken a hostage—Ian or that woman who’d seen to his hurts.
He could have tricked Rauve out of his weapon.
He could have convinced lovesick Isabel to help him flee.
It was only honor and reason that kept him prisoner here. Did she not know that?
“Ye still don’t trust me?” he asked.
“Give me one good reason to trust you.”
His mouth fell open. He’d saved the ungrateful lass from a pack of wolves. Yet she had the audacity to question him?
The cool, superior, irritating shimmer of doubt in her eyes pushed him over the edge. Trust him? He’d give her reason to trust him.
Without warning, he used his left hand to upend the platter, spilling its contents off the end of the bed with a crash.
While she gasped in surprise, he snatched the wine bottle from her with his right hand.
Wrapping the fingers of his left hand around her neck, he shoved her down onto the bed. Then he broke the bottle against the bedpost, holding the jagged edge against her throat.
“Now do ye trust me? Ye see, if I actually wished to escape, I could do it in the wink of an—” He strangled on the last word as he suddenly felt her fist clench like an iron vise around his ballocks.
Chapter 11
Hallie had acted on instinct. He’d moved so fast, she’d had no time to think. But she’d been trained in defense from the time she was a wee lass. Even without a weapon, she was never defenseless.
Her action had its intended effect.
His eyes were no longer drilling into hers with triumph and dark threat.
He stiffened. His gaze widened. He gulped.
“Checkmate,” she whispered.
<
br /> At an impasse, neither of them dared move for fear of inflicting damage. Their breathing was shallow as their eyes locked, each waiting for the other to flinch.
But they were evenly matched. Equally vulnerable. And while they engaged in that close and silent battle, something began to change.
Hallie grew painfully aware of just where her hand was nestled. And as the taut moment dragged on, her intimate assault began doing curious things to his eyes…and her senses.
Smoldering within his tense stare was a glimmer of desire. A spark of lust. A flame of longing.
Her nostrils flared. No one had ever looked at her with such fire. For a lingering moment, she felt his heated gaze penetrate her icy shell, thawing her bones. Melting her heart. Touching her in her most secret places.
It was foreign and frightening.
And for one terrible instant, she feared she might succumb to the flames. Sink into the dangerous depths of his eyes. Maybe even surrender to the powerful urge to press her lips to his warm and tempting mouth.
And then Ian cried out again, breaking the fragile thread of desire.
“Colban!”
Slowly, carefully, Colban removed the shard from her throat and tossed it aside. Just as cautiously, she released his ballocks.
When they had both retreated to their respective sides, he mumbled, “I don’t think that love potion is workin’.”
Hallie wasn’t so sure. She had the pounding heart and trembling limbs to prove it. And she blushed to think where she’d just been touching him.
But Colban had made his point. Though thus far he’d been polite and obliging, there was a serious and deadly side to him. He could be ruthless, clever, and capable when he had to be.
If he was civil, it was because he’d chosen to be civil.
She could trust him.
“Col! Ban!” Ian’s voice was thin with frustration.
Still shaken from their encounter, Hallie crossed her arms defensively and nodded toward the window. “Go on. See what he wants ere he summons the whole clan.”
Colban nodded. But he seemed likewise uneasy as he picked his way around remnants of spilled food to the window.
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