Page 25 of Beguiled By the Highlander
Colban’s lip curled into a sneer. “Ye might fool the ladies of Sgur Castle, but ye cannot fool me. What do ye hope to gain by this deception?”
Ever since meeting the man, he’d put up with the unsubtle jibes and insults. But they were no longer under Lady Helga’s roof, and he’d be damned if he’d let this oaf disparage his word without consequence.
He took a step towards Colban, and the other man visibly stiffened as if the action had taken him aback.
“Are ye calling me a liar, MacDonald?” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His intent was plain.
Colban stood his ground. It was obvious the sword on his hip gave him a sense of invulnerability, consideringhepossessed nothing more than a basic dagger.
Borrowed, at that.
The knowledge didn’t improve his mood.
“I’ve seen the way ye look at Lady Isolde. I won’t stand by and allow a transient opportunist to take advantage of Lady Helga’s good nature. So, I’ll ask ye again. Who the hell are ye?”
White rage burned through him at the implication he sought to entrap Isolde by dishonorable means. “If ye have issues with me, fine. But keep Lady Isolde out of it.”
“Keep her out of it, when ’tis clear ye’ve set yer sights on her?”
He inhaled a long breath, striving for calm. The man was determined to provoke him for his own twisted reasons, but he wouldn’t rise to the bait. “We’re done.”
“No. Ye’re done with yer lying. Since when does a bump on the head cause a man to lose his mind? Are ye here to spy for the Crown?”
TheCrown? “Ye’re the one out of his mind, MacDonald. I’m no spy.”
How could he be so sure? Yet in his bones, he knew it was the truth. Nothing would persuade him otherwise.
“Ye know that for certain?” There was a lick of triumph in the man’s voice, as though Colban believed he’d caught him in a lie. “When ye cannot recall yer own name?”
“I don’t answer to ye.” He loaded each word with the scorn the other man deserved, even though, in a discordant corner of his mind, he found it hard to dispute the logic of Colban’s accusation. Why was he so sure of some things, yet still in the dark as ever about others?
“There’re other ways to make ye talk.”
It happened so fast. He reacted on pure instinct, and MacDonald had scarcely gripped the hilt of his sword before his palm slammed onto MacDonald’s knuckles, pinning his hand to his hilt, while his fist smashed into the underside of the man’s jaw. Colban staggered back, lost his balance, and fell on his arse.
He stepped back, flexing his fingers, as Colban spat blood onto the sand and sent him a glare of loathing. Without another word he turned on his heel and made his way across the beach. From the gathering shadows a figure appeared from the moorland and raised his arm.
“Colban,” Patric said, and he couldn’t work out whether it was said in greeting or as a warning.
He glanced over his shoulder, but the other man was striding along the beach in the opposite direction. Patric came to his side.
“Watch yer back,” he said. “I don’t interfere between men’s disagreements, but there’s no honor attacking an unarmed opponent, whatever the provocation.”
He shot Patric a sharp glance, but it was too dark to see his expression. Not that he needed to. For the second time, it seemed Patric had been instrumental in saving his life.
“Aye.” His voice was gruff. It hadn’t occurred to him Colban wouldn’t hesitate to run him through when his back was turned, yet here they were.
God damn it, he needed to regain his memories. Even if the truth wasn’t as he hoped, at least he’d know whether he was worthy to fight for Isolde’s hand against the faceless Campbell.
When the ship left for Oban at the end of the week, he would be on it.
Chapter Eight
The following morningIsolde and her sisters, with Grear in attendance, were in the great hall when she saw Colban marching towards them. She stifled an impatient sigh. He had disappeared after dinner the day before and hadn’t joined his men for supper, but he now gave the impression of a man on a mission. And doubtless, Freyja was that mission.
“Yer admirer approaches,” she told her sister, who flashed her an aggrieved glance.
“He admires my healing skill, that’s all. He’s told me so many times.”
