Page 25 of The Hawk Laird
She would not let go, though it took all of her weight and strength to hang on to it. “This is unchivalrous. I thought you felt some kindness toward me!”
“And I thought you were a gentle, well-bred lass,” he muttered in irritation. He pulled on the taut leather straps that linked them in a silent struggle. “Unhand the reins. I do not want to topple you off.Thatwould be unchivalrous.”
She held her end of the reins though her arm ached to do it. The horse shifted uneasily beneath her. “You would not topple me.”
“I would.” He yanked, and she jerked forward. He relaxed his hold and sighed. “I would not,” he admitted, but did not release his grip. “You are as stubborn as that warhorse. Surely you realize the danger in lingering here for a wee chat.”
She rushed on, ignoring his logical point; she felt no need to obey logic just now. Her temper, rarely stirred to this degree, was in full flare. “I wanted to think kindly of you,” she said through clenched teeth, as she tugged on the rein. “Even thoughthe Hawk Laird is said to be a wretched traitor. But all this day, you have treated me coldly. And now you take me hostage and will not say why. When we came down the cliff side together, I thought that the rumors were wrong about you. But now I think they may be right!”
“You do a good deal of thinking,” he said, slinging her a grim look. “Come ahead.”
“Nay.” She glared at him. “What will you gain from keeping me? Tell me why, or I will not budge from this spot. I would rather go with Southron soldiers than go with you. I would rather be lost in this forest than go with you!”
She knew that outburst sounded spoiled and petulant, but it was the best she could do. Confrontation was not her strength. And she had never met a man with his powerful force of presence. She had scant experience with resisting another’s will through the strength of her own—until the siege.
She did not lack determination, and weeks of siege had taught her skills she had hitherto not possessed. She called on those now. She mustered a look of stony fury and held on to the reins out of pure stubbornness, though her arm ached and her body trembled. “What will you gain from this?” she repeated.
His gaze filled with an inner storm, deep and dark. “You, Black Isobel,” he said, “are the only hope I have for gaining someone’s freedom. I intend to barter you for a life.”
“Barter me?” She gaped at him, barely taking in what he told her. “To whom, and why?”
“Ralph Leslie holds my cousin at Wildshaw,” he said.
She blinked in astonishment. “He holds no one there!”
“He does. I want her back unharmed. I trust that Ralph will trade one woman for another.”
“A woman?” she squeaked. “He would not hold a woman prisoner. Unlike you!”
James slid her a long look. “He has her. And I will shortly let him know that I have you. You see, then, Lady Isobel,” he said smoothly, “we will both get what we want from this. You want to go to Sir Ralph. But it must be on my terms.”
“You lack honor,” she snapped.
“So they say of me. Come ahead.” He pulled on the reins.
She pulled back so hard she thought the stretched leather would break between them, thought her arm would come out of its socket. “Why do you do this to me?” she asked, panting. “I have done naught to you! If you have a quarrel with Ralph Leslie, ’tis not my doing. Let go!” she burst out in frustration.
He did not. “I do not bear you a grudge. But you know well what you have done to me.”
“Have I burned your castle or stolen your freedom, as you have done to me?” Her voice rose to a shout.
He held up a hand, palm out, a swift, silencing gesture. “Your words took away what small chance for peace I had in my life. Your words ruined my name, and set all this in motion.”
She stared at him. “Do you mean one of my—my visions?”
He nodded. “You know what you said of me.”
She blinked in astonishment. “I know naught.”
“You know more than naught,” he snapped.
“I do not recall what I said. If you heard the prophecy, you know it better than I.”
He huffed. “Who told you to say what you did of Wallace and me?”
“Wallace—” She paused, her heart beating fiercely. She had strived to remember one prediction out of all of them; she knew, now, what he meant. “No one told me what to say. The words just come to me.”
“Do you know the damage your words have caused?”
