Page 92 of The Hawk Laird
“Do not be so certain,” James replied.
Isobel stepped in front of him, facing Leslie. “You could have treated my father with courtesy. He was always a friend to you. You have no loyalty!”
“I place my loyalty where it does the most good—with King Edward in the king’s peace. Seton has been involved in rebellious activity. Once I had the betrothal promise, there was no reason to court his favor any longer.”
“None of you knew of my secret politics,” John Seton said. “My loyalty to Scotland will never waver. But you, Leslie, led meto believe even if you declared for Edward, you chose Scotland in your heart—your own land and people.”
“Papa, why would you trust him?” Isobel asked.
“For you, lass,” he said quietly. “I thought you would be safer with a Scottish knight with an English alliance. I thought that would protect your gift better than I could. I thought him a practical man. Father Hugh praised him.”
“We were all deceived,” Isobel said. “Father Hugh betrayed us too.”
“You never liked either of them, it is true. That perhaps was your gift, and I did not listen. I trusted them because they seemed to have your welfare in mind. Sir Ralph said he could love you,” he added low, “and that he would never let harm come to you. So I gave him your hand.”
“I only said what you wanted to hear,” Leslie interrupted. “But I do care for Lady Isobel. That is why I accepted the command of Wildshaw. You wanted to wed her to a man of power. I have that now.”
“Wildshaw belongs to my cousin,” Janet said.
“Not anymore,” Leslie said.
“I wanted my daughter to wed a man of honor,” Seton growled, getting to his feet. Janet, nearly as tall as Seton, stepped forward to put her arm around his waist, seeing him slip against the wall.
“Honor is not practical. Is it, Lindsay?” Leslie drawled. He took a step toward James.
“You do not understand honor. He does,” Isobel said.
“Truly?” He narrowed his eyes in a hateful glance that made Isobel lean away. “I have seen a letter with Lindsay’s signature—on a pledge to give Wallace to the English. And he led us there nicely.” He glared at James. “I allowed you to escape that day, Hawk Laird, or so they call you. I trapped you into taking usthere. We followed you. And I caught one of your own arrows myself.” He clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Good to know it,” James snarled.
“’Twas simple enough to start the rumor.” He jabbed a finger toward Isobel. “Her prophecy had already suggested it, and I saw the need to get rid of you. So I attached your name to Isobel’s prediction of Wallace’s fall. You two,” he said with an ugly laugh, “have been tied together since then.”
Nostrils flared, eyes like steel shards, James pressed his back to the wall, sank his weight, then lifted his booted, manacled feet and slammed them into Leslie’s gut.
Flung backward by the force of it, the man lay gasping on the straw-covered floor. Then he rolled to his side, groaning, as two guards rushed into the cell. One helped Leslie to his feet. The other stepped toward James with a hand on his sword hilt.
Isobel cried out and threw herself between them, pushing back against James, who leaned against the wall. The guard halted, then looked at her.
“Sir Gawain,” she breathed.
The knight stepped back, taking his hand from his sword.
“Gawain?” James murmured.
“What stops you, man!” Leslie gasped out. “Toss the woman aside and take him down!”
“I will not harm a woman,” the knight said, “nor punish a man for doing what I would like to do myself.” He spun on his heel and walked out of the cell.
“Damned chivalrous bastard, always been like that,” Leslie muttered. “Isobel! Get back! I will take him down myself—” he said as he stumbled forward, drawing a dagger from a sheath at his belt.
“Move,” James murmured, pushing her aside, though she turned to embrace him, then faced Leslie, forced to stop his advance.
“If you harm him or my father,” she said low, “I swear I will never utter a prophecy again.”
His glare was cold and hard. “We shall see,” he growled as he grabbed her wrist and wrenched her away. Pain seared through her weakened arm and she cried out.
“Bring the other woman too!” he yelled to the remaining guard as he dragged Isobel out of the dungeon.
