Page 44 of Bride of Ice
“And don’t even think of sewing them shut,” Hallie said.
Isabel frowned and sighed. “Fine.”
“Brand, you’ll write a letter of apology to the lasses.”
“What? Ach!” He rolled his eyes. “Sod a cod.”
“Onewithoutprofanity. And all of you—”
“M’lady, come quick!” came a cry from across the courtyard.
She whirled. The young lass who tended the doocot, was wringing her hands. “What is it?”
“Ian. He’s bothering the doves.”
“Again?”
Only a few days before, Ian had absconded with one of the doves, trapping it in the buttery to study its wings. The startled bird had left feathers all over the room and laid an egg under the shelf.
Hallie’s shoulders fell. She’d donned her armor, hoping to get started early on the practice field. Now it seemed she’d be delayed.
“Send the lad up here,” Colban suddenly suggested. “I’ll keep him out o’ trouble.”
Surely he wasn’t serious. Colban may have earned her trust. But no matter how tempting his offer, it was irresponsible to let her brother fraternize with a hostage. Wasn’t it?
“We can play chess,” he added. “I owe the lad for the drubbin’ he gave me yesterday.”
Nay, she didn’t want the Highlander to think she couldn’t handle her own siblings, let alone her own clan. And she absolutely didn’t want to give him the chance to pry any more secrets from loose-lipped Ian.
“I have chores for him,” she lied.
Colban breathed an invisible sigh of disappointment. He liked the lad. And he’d hoped to glean more information from him.
Following the lively entertainment of the morn, most of the day was deadly dull. After a breakfast of frumenty with raisins, he spent the next hours staring at the rafters, stirring the fire, and standing at the window in the hopes of getting a glimpse of the beautiful Valkyrie. She crossed the courtyard several times, but always in a tabard-flapping hurry.
Gellir’s replacement, Erik, standing guard at the courtyard wall, seemed more interested in mining his nose than conversing with a hostage.
Everyone who passed by was on a mission. Herding geese. Transporting goods. Chasing after stray children.
Rivenloch had a busy household. How a single lass managed it all, he didn’t know. Even Morgan, with his much smaller clan, relied upon Colban to be his eyes and ears. To serve as an advisor. A protector. A confidant. And a friend in dark times.
Someone like Colban could have helped Hallie. He’d spent his life at the right hand of a laird. He could spot trouble about to happen and was quick to quell it. He was a worthy diplomat who could broker peace before the rumblings of dissidence ever reached the laird’s ears. He could sense when the laird was stretched too thin, and he was skilled at taking up the slack.
If only they were allies instead of foes, Colban could have lent a hand to the overworked lass.
Instead, he was reduced to pacing the chamber in frustration and boredom.
Thankfully, Ian’s chores didn’t keep the lad busy for the entire day. Just after noon, he arrived, rolling a wheelbarrow full of stones across the sod and dumping them into a pile below Colban’s window.
“Hist, Ian, what’s that?” Colban teased in a loud whisper. “Are ye stackin’ stones to help me escape?” He grinned.
Ian took his question seriously. “Nay, we don’t have enough stones. ’Twould probably take three or four days anyway. And Hallie would notice straightaway.”
“I see. What do ye have planned then?”
“I’m going to teach you to read.”
“Read?” He lifted his brows. “Me? With stones?”
