Page 93 of Desiring the Highland Laird
His brows rose. “Ye made it?”
She nodded. “I did. I thought it might help you, especially after what happened this morning in the great hall.”
Callum placed aside his cup and glowered. She regretted mentioning it since it turned his mood sour. He didn’t know she had been standing there when he swung the claymore in a wide arc, narrowly missing his brother’s face. The power of the sword slamming into the great hall table would be something she’d never forget. Then how he had tugged it from the wood as if it was nothing more than a knife slicing butter. It made her appreciate how powerful and strong he was. And it was a bit fearsome.
Hearing him banish his brother and the two men from the keep was a knife to her heart. She imagined how he felt. Shetook another sip, wishing it was something stronger to give her courage.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she said, her voice quiet.
“So…ye heard then.” His gaze lifted to hers. “How much?”
“I know you banished him,” she said, unwilling to look him in the eye. She hated confrontation and didn’t want to brave a glance at him.
He heaved a sigh, the breath huffing out. “I had to do it, lass.”
“I know,” she said softly.
On impulse, she placed her cup on the table next to his and reached across to him, placing her hand on his.
“I can’t imagine how difficult that was for you.”
He seemed surprised by her empathy as he looked up at her. He said nothing for a long moment. Finally, she removed her hand and sat back in her chair, feeling like a fool. She took up her hot tea and took another sip, avoiding his gaze.
“I thank ye,” he said quietly. “Ye have a kind heart, Evie.”
He had said her name once or twice but hearing it from him now gave her a tingling sensation of joy. She gripped the cup tight and braved a glance in his direction. He’d turned back to the fire, the light flickering over his handsome face. She saw the worry and the torment there and she wished there was more she could do for him.
“I sent scouts,” he said. “If the tapestry was right, then I want to be prepared should there be an invasion.”
“What happens if there is?” It was a question she didn’t want to voice, but she had to know the answer.
“I’ll see ye safe,” he said then. He lifted his gaze to hers. “Do ye still have the keystone?”
She patted her pocket. “Yes.”
“Good. Now, lass, the hour is late. Ye best get some rest.”
“And you best drink the rest of that,” she said, motioning to the cup. She used her best teasing voice. When he quirked a brow at her, she said, “It will do you good.”
“Aye, then, I will.”
“Good night, Callum.”
“Good night, lass.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Evie closed thethick curtains around the bed for some privacy while she shed her overdress and stockings. In a sudden, strange impulse, she shed her modern undergarments as well. Not that he hadn’t already seen her naked—he had—but she felt it was awkward to change with him still in the room. She didn’t ask if he intended to sleep in the chair all right—she assumed at some point he’d join her. But what if he didn’t?
As she folded her clothes, she recalled she had the stone in her pocket. She fished it out and noticed something peculiar.
The stone was still faintly glowing through the material of the handkerchief. She unwrapped it and stared down at it to confirm it was, indeed, emitting a pale light. What harbinger was this? Why now?
Did it sense something about to happen? Did it know the MacDonalds were on their way?
No, she refused to believe that.
But the niggling sense ofwhat ifcontinued to pound through her mind.
