Page 17 of The Highlander's Inconvenient Wife
* * *
Joan returned his smile as she stared at him from across the table. The hungry way he was looking at her reminded her of the night before and their almost kiss. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she thought over their interactions.
Is he attempting to make peace with me?
She had felt the need to apologize to him after storming away from him the previous night but had let her stubbornness get the better of her. It hadn’t been his fault; he merely wanted to know if she were on the run which she was. Things may have gone smoother if he had phrased his question better, but she knew she had overreacted in the moment.
She was glad that the misunderstanding had cleared the air. It made things easier for them to reach a middle ground with each other. She had also noticed that Gregg had been removed from her door.
Another peace offering perhaps?
The doors suddenly opened, drawing both of their attention away from each other.
“I apologize for interrupting yer breakfast, me laird.” A tall man with a bald head and grey beard came walking into the hall with a stack of parchment rolls beneath his arm. “The problem cannae wait for later.” He wore a red kilt that Joan had come to realize was the color of Jasper’s clan.
His knobbly knees stuck out like a sore thumb above his gangly legs, drawing attention to the fact that his legs had absolutely no fat on them at all.
“Let’s have a look then,” Jasper returned to his strict demeanor and stood as he wiped his hands together. “Please excuse me for a minute, me lady,” he addressed Joan as he made his way around the table.
The man came forward and placed the rolls of paper on an empty section of the table where he lifted one in particular and spread it out beneath his hands. Looking up he suddenly realized that Joan was present. “Me lady,” he greeted her with a nod before turning to Jasper. “Should we take this discussion to the study, me laird?”
“Nae,” Jasper responded. “Joan is a trusted friend; she willnae divulge anything that’s said in this room.” He joined the man at his side and looked at the open piece of parchment across the table with his hands resting on the edges.
Joan felt a wave of pride at the way he had vouched for her. They had come a long way in just a few hours. Yesterday, she had been a prisoner presumed to be a spy, and now, she was a trusted friend in front of whom he could speak freely on important matters. No greater honor could be given by Jasper in her opinion.
She wondered what it was that had made him change his mind about her. There must have been something that made him want to trust her more and see her in a different light. The thought of him possibly liking her made her stomach flutter with nerves. She quickly pushed the thoughts aside and reached for the fruit.
“What seems to be the matter?” his voice broke through her thoughts as he addressed the lanky man.
“Here,” the man pointed to a section on what Joan could surmise was a map. The large green section was dotted with various pins and twine holding them together. She’d seen a map like that once in her father’s study when he’d been trying to track a clan war that was happening in Scotland.
“The scouts have spotted men walking on our Southern borders. Now, this could just be men looking for good farming land,” he explained, “or it could be a future attack. We dinnae ken what their intentions are at present.”
The man’s heavy Gaelic accent was somewhat hard for Joan to understand. He seemed much older than Jasper and even his mother. His papery skin was dotted with large age spots, and his back was slightly hunched. He gave off a formidable air that had Joan wondering if he was a general or the man at arms.
“We take them into captivity,” Jasper said with a determined look in his eyes. “Strike while they daenae ken that we saw them there.”
“I think that’s a mistake,” Joan said as she examined the bunch of grapes in her hand, picking them off one at a time before popping them into her mouth in a leisurely fashion.
“I beg yer pardon?” Jasper asked as both men looked at her in surprise.
“If these men are indeed spies,” she began confidently, “capturing them will only lead them where they want to be in the first place. Right inside your castle. If they are farmers looking for more land or vagrants that need a place to live, you will be causing them harm while wasting your own time.”
The men exchanged glances before Jasper turned back to her. “What would ye do with them then?”
“If it was me,” she placed her bunch of grapes back on her plate, “I would have one or two men following them at a distance, keep an eye on them, and make sure that they are up to no good before jumping to any conclusions. If they are harmless, you let them go on their way. If they are indeed spies, you can lock them up.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a second. “If I were you, I would have specially trained guards in the prisons to watch over them. People who know they shouldn’t talk.”
Jasper looked at the bald man who seemed to be agreeing with what she was saying as he nodded along.
“You have Gregg watching the prisoners. I knew everything that was going on in your castle in the space of one conversation.”
Jasper took a deep breath as he considered her words, looking into her eyes as he mulled the information over in his mind.
Her heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at her; the intensity in his eyes was taking her breath away.
Is he about to scold me for interfering? He did ask my opinion.
“It doesnae matter,” he waved the idea away with a wave of his hand. “The captives never survive long enough to tell anyone.”
