Page 29 of Sins of a Scot
“Dinnae worry yer pretty little head, Lady Mackay. Ye did naething wrong.”
“Well, o’ course I did naething wrong,” she replied, feeling her cheeks burn red.
“Then what are ye worrying fer?” Owen grinned back.
By this time, Iseabail had pushed herself to her feet, trying to ignore the ache in her hips from lying on the hard floor, and walked several steps away. She spent an overly long time brushing down her frock, doing her very best to avoid Owen’s gaze. A gaze that told her that he was highly entertained by her embarrassment.
“We should pack,” she said quickly, turning and heading toward the door.
“Where are ye going?” Owen was now up and on his feet. Grabbing his blanket, he began to fold it in some unconventional way.
“I found a bucket yesterday. I put it under one o’ the holes in the roof. It means we have fresh water tae drink.”
He looked surprised, and inclining an impressive head, he said. “Nae just a pretty face, then.”
Iseabail refrained from snarling, and instead, continued in the direction she was going.
Aye, Mr. Sinclair. I am, in fact, far smarter than ye imagine.
With flasks refilled with fresh water, and saddle bags packed, they readied themselves to venture out to the horses. Owen held back for a moment longer, and when Iseabail turned to see what he was doing, she watched him leave several large cuts of meat for the dog, who remained lying beside the now dead fire.
“I think ye have a wee soft spot for him,” Iseabail said, finding herself rather moved at Owen’s kindness.
“Aye, well. He’s just down on his luck, is all. We all need a wee hand when that happens.”
She wondered, as she made her way out to her mare, if Owen had been speaking more for himself than the dog, yet she could not ignore his kindness. Mounting her beast, she turned to him as he sat upon his.
“Good things always come back tae ye. Yer good deeds willnae go unnoticed.”
CHAPTER NINE
Owen was still trying to figure Iseabail out as they travelled to the village Eden had spoken of yesterday morning at breakfast. Lady Mackay was certainly a wily one, and having already witnessed what she was capable of, he determined to keep a close eye on her.
Not that he was suspicious of her motives any longer. But nor was she one of the usual country lasses he ordinarily associated with. As a noble, she would have been well-educated, but she didn’t just have knowledge, she was clever. It was a rare thing in man or woman.
“How did ye happen upon the village where I met ye the other night?” he asked as they travelled. “What brought ye there?”
“It was the only lead I had,” she replied. “Even without me guards roundabout me, people dinnae want tae talk about the crystal. I dinnae ken whether it is that they are scared o’ it, or something else. Anyway, I finally spoke tae a man who sent me tae these parts. He told me that if I was tae find any moreinformation about it, this would be the best place tae dae it. Clearly, he wasnae wrong.”
“I wonder how he kent?” Owen said, more a rhetorical musing than a question.
“From me understanding, there are far more people who ken about this crystal than I first imagined. But somehow, the knowledge o’ it has been kept hidden.”
Owen cast her a glance and shrugged. “With what it’s capable o’ doing, ye can understand why.”
“Aye, I suppose,” Iseabail replied.
They arrived in the village a short time after that, and tying their horses up, they began searching the stalls of the market as they slowly strolled by. They passed men selling vegetables, and women selling bread. There were cloths, and bags, and knives for sale. And as they continued, the traders called out, trying to sell their wares. They hadn’t gone far, when Iseabail nudged Owen with her elbow.
“Dinnae those necklaces look very familiar?” she murmured from the corner of her mouth.
Owen glanced at them as they reached the stall, and then nodded. “Aye. Similar, but nae the same.”
“Close enough,” Iseabail countered. She then stopped at the stall and caught the merchant’s attention.
“Good day tae ye, sir,” she said. “I wonder if ye can help me.”
Owen watched the man smile warmly when he caught sight of Lady Mackay. He couldn’t blame him. She did have the ability to take one’s breath away. But this man was far older than the two of them. In fact, Owen imagined, with his white thinning hair, and the deep lines etched into his ever-progressive forehead, that he was likely an old age. Perhaps sixty, or even more.
