Page 9 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Where do ye want me to go?” she asked again, her eyes darting between his and the hand still gripping her wrist.
“Perhaps ye should have thought about that before burning me castle.”
“I didnaeburn any castle.”
“Well, maybe ye didnae—but yer men did. And I am certain they were following yer orders,” he countered, his grip slowly slackening.
“I never instructed me men to burn down any castle.”
“Perhaps ye dinnae have as much control over yer men as ye think, then.”
“Oh, but ye do? Yer men keep killing mine at the border almost every day. What is the number now? Thirty?”
“That was never me plan. I never wanted whatever this was between our clans to escalate to this.”
“M’Lady…” The urgency in Hudson’s voice grew with each word as his gaze zeroed in on her wrist.
“’Tis alright, Hudson,” Lady Blythe reassured, her voice calm.
But Hudson did not seem to listen. His eyes flicked to hers and back to her wrist, still trapped in Evander’s grip.
“Are ye certain?” he asked, reaching for his sword.
“I wouldnae do that if I were ye,” Evander warned, his voice low but commanding.
Lady Blythe sighed and turned to look at him. “Look, I never wanted a war. I can assure ye of that. This has gone on long enough. I even made sure to tell me guards to allow yer men to steal from us. That’s how much I dinnae want this war to happen.”
“Me people dinnae want tostealfrom ye.”
“Well, they did.” Her response was sharp, laced with renewed confidence, now that she had more people around her. “And I have been quite generous with them in the past few days. But if ye think me generosity includes handing overmecastle to ye, ye must be delusional.”
Evander nodded, considering her words. “I would be a fool to assume anything less.”
“I am glad we are on the same page.”
“We arenae.”
Lady Blythe narrowed her eyes at him, but he held her gaze.
For the briefest of moments, he felt like they were waging a war only the two of them understood, what with the way they both stared at each other. He couldfeelthe heat in her eyes and the way they wanted to pierce his soul for some reason.
After a while, she exhaled and raised her hands in despair. “The least I can do for ye, for now, is to find a place for ye and yer family to live.”
Evander did not miss a beat before responding, sharp and succinct. “I am afraid that is nae good enough.”
“That is the most I can do for ye. For now, I will be happy to let ye and yer family stay the night. I am certain the maids can prepare the spare rooms.”
“Again, nae good enough.”
“Ye are quite frustrating, Laird Kincaid, do ye ken that?”
Evander shrugged. At least she got the title right this time around. They were getting somewhere.
“But,” Lady Blythe continued anyway, “we can properly discuss this later tonight over dinner. I will help ye and yer family find a place to stay, but for now, this conversation is over.”
She turned to leave, and something snapped inside him. He reached for her hand and pulled her close to him. Hudson, her man-at-arms, hurried over to them, his grip on his sword now tighter than ever. Evander could hear a slight gasp from her maid, who stood beside him, but he paid her no mind.
He held a knife to her neck. “Dinnae mistake me respect for women as weakness—M’Lady,” he bit out. “If ye were a man, yer blood would have painted the roses by now.”
