Page 31 of Sins of a Scot
They were now at the horses, and Owen cupped his hands together, ready to give Iseabail a lift into her saddle. “What’s that supposed tae mean? Sure, ye dinnae ken me at all.”
Iseabail positioned herself comfortably, and then gazed down at him, a smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. “Yer castle walls have ears, Owen. Perhaps ye need tae be more careful where ye and yer giant friend have yer conversations.”
Still frowning, Owen leapt into his own saddle with no effort, and grabbing the reins, he took control of his horse.
What had she heard?
He was still trying to figure that out when Iseabail flicked her reins and guided her mare into a gallop.
“Hey. Wait.”
He could hear her laughing as she rode away, and jerking the reins to follow her, he smiled a little.
Maybe she isnae just as tightly wound as I first thought.
While he had tried to remain jovial, the previous night had been anything but pleasant. Clearly, she was tired, wet, and uncomfortable, and had not been in the greatest form at all. Only after that dog had scared the living daylights out of them both, did he see a small chink in her grumpy armor.
Sometime in the middle of the night, she had turned over and lay upon him. He had woken at the time, nearly terrified as to what he was supposed to do. Should he move her away? Should he stay perfectly still? Ought he to wrap his arm around her and cuddle her back to keep her warm?
In the end, he had chosen to keep his own arms safely away. That way he could not be accused of trying anything as she slept.
When he had woken again that morning, he had watched the rise and fall of the back of her head, her silky hair draped across his chest, scared to death of moving in case he disturbed her.
No matter what her mood had been the night before, he had to take into consideration what she was going through. Her father and brother were being held captive and she had taken on the task of searching high and low to find the crystal that would save them, alone. Even last night, she had admitted the same. While he had tried to provoke her by calling her careless, he had actually found her explanation unbelievably brave.
She was a noble. She was well within her right to travel with guards to protect her. But as she had said herself, how would anyone open up to her if she did so? And thus, to save her family, she had put herself in grave danger for their sake.
When he finally caught up to her, she was still smiling.
“So, are ye going tae tell me what ye overheard while in the castle?” he asked.
“Och, ye ken what I heard. It appears that everyone kens that ye like the lasses, and they, evidently, like ye back. I can only imagine how many untruths ye have had tae tell tae keep them from discovering each other.”
“That’s only happened a few times,” he defended. “And usually, when one o’ them willnae let go.”
“Willnae let go?” she said, looking a little surprised.
“Aye. They get too attached.”
Iseabail snorted. “Och, dae they now?” Her voice was loaded with disbelief, so much so, that Owen felt he had no choice but to defend himself.
“Aye, actually. They dae. I am the heir tae a great clan, ye ken.”
“Och, I dae ken,” she said, her tone sliding into sarcasm. “And what a catch ye are. I mean, what lass wouldnae want tae be with a man whose bedded all the lasses in the kingdom ‘afore her. It’s every woman’s dream.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Aye, and I suppose ye’re as innocent as a rose.”
Spinning her head, she glared at him, her expression betraying her astonishment. “How dare ye? I am a lady, and ye shouldnae speak o’ such things.”
As though she had physically slapped him, Owen was stunned at her harsh reply, but realized his mistake. He lifted a hand apologetically, and inclined his head. “I apologize. Ye are right. Please, forgive me.”
Having turned to look where she was going after her harsh reprimand, she jerked her head back to look at him. Owen implored her with his eyes, but Iseabail scowled and turned away.
The damage was already done.
Fool!
For a second, and with the direction their conversation had been going, Owen had forgotten who he was speaking with, and treating her like the many lasses he ordinarily spent his time with, the words had left his mouth with little thought. But she was right. She was, indeed, a lady, and his words had been utterly rude. Even so, he imagined his deduction was entirely on point. Lady Mackay was likely the most innocent woman he knew.
