Page 61 of Beguiled By the Highlander
He led her down the spiral staircase until they reached the ground floor, where a passage led between the inner and outer walls of the castle. “Along here,” he said, “we’re behind the wall in the great hall.”
“Spyholes.” She went onto her toes to get a better look. “Have ye ever spied on yer guests, William?”
“Not yet. Never felt the need to.”
“At least we know where not to hang the fine new tapestry the baron gave us. Once we have appropriate tapestries for yer bedchamber, that is.”
“True.” He glanced through one of the spyholes. Malcolm MacNeil, Robert Fletcher, and David Cunningham appeared deep in conversation as they strolled across the hall, and once again the suffocating knowledge wrapped around his chest thatone of his men had betrayed him. And he was no closer to discovering who.
*
It was almostdinner time before he finished showing Isolde all the secret places he’d discovered in the castle.
“I’ll have the tapestry and yer rug taken to our bedchamber,” he told her as they made their way back to the great hall.
“No need. I can deal with that.”
Of course she could. He’d need to get used to having a wife who was responsible for the comfort of the castle. It was a heartening prospect, and he smiled at her. Married life was grand indeed.
“Although after we’ve eaten,” she added, “the first thing I plan on doing is exploring the local countryside.”
The hell she was. Grisly images of her being attacked by whoever had tried to kill him flashed through his mind, and he suppressed a shudder. “No. Ye’ll stay within Creagdoun and attend to yer duties.”
“I’ve no intention of neglecting my duties.” There was an unmistakable edge of frost in her voice, and he sighed. She’d misunderstood him.
“I know that, Isolde. I’m not accusing ye of not.” He dropped his voice, so no one would overhear. “But until the man who attacked me is found, I can’t risk yer safety.”
“Oh.” Skepticism dripped from that one word, and he frowned at her, uncomprehending. “So this mysterious attacker is to be the reason for my confinement, is he?”
“Confinement?” Had he heard her right? “Now ye’re the one jesting, surely.”
“How long will it take before ye find this murdering fiend?”
Heat crawled over his scalp, and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. She sounded as disparaging as when he’d caught her by the armory on Eigg, after Hugh had arrived. “It’s my priority, I assure ye.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Except the scathing note in her voice conveyed the opposite.
He pulled her to a halt at the entrance to the hall and backed her against the wall. “Do ye still doubt my word, Isolde?”
“Does it matter? Ye got what ye wanted. A MacDonald bride.”
He’d got what he wanted? He could scarcely believe she’d thrown such an accusation at him. Except deep inside he acknowledged the truth of her words.
He’d got exactly what he wanted.
“Ye’re wrong,” he said, aggravated that she still held onto her ill-conceived beliefs that he’d lied to her on Eigg. “I never wanted a MacDonald bride until I met ye.”
Confusion flashed over her face. “Honeyed words again.”
She didn’t sound so sure of herself, though, and he pounced on it. “Why would I put on such a charade when we were destined to wed regardless? When ye’ve worked that one out, let me know.”
“It’s a puzzle.” She sounded reluctant to admit it.
He should leave it, since it appeared she was finally coming around to seeing how foolish her conviction was, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “No, it isn’t.”
Slowly, he straightened, and his arms dropped to his sides. She tugged her shawl tighter about her shoulders before casting an inscrutable look his way.
