Page 92 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

Malcolm glared, but Joan seemed unaffected by the taunt. She met his gaze unflinchingly.

“No one recognizes the man who attacked James,” Malcolm said. “We want ye to also view the body to see if he is known to ye.”

Joan shuddered with maidenly distress. “I’d prefer not to do something so gruesome.”

Malcolm’s expression narrowed. “It’s not a request, milady.”

Joan’s lips firmed. “If ye command it, then I will gaze upon the corpse, though if others cannae identify him, there is no earthly reason why I would know him.”

“Ye’ve been here longer than we have, and therefore have had more exposure to the locals,” James said.

Annoyance tightened Joan’s delicate features. “I take little notice of the underlings and servants. If pressed, I doubt I could identify more than one or two of them.”

“The body is over here,” Malcolm said.

Joan swayed slightly as she stood. Malcolm’s hand reached out to steady her, but she shrugged it off and took her maid’s arm. The maid licked her bottom lip and watched Joan nervously as they stood over the body.

“I’ve never seen the poor sod before,” Joan declared, making the sign of the cross.

“And yer maid?” Malcolm asked sharply.

The servant turned so pale she looked ready to drop to the floor. “I dinnae know the lad,” she warbled.

The pair made their way back to the table. Joan sank gracefully onto the bench and cast a regal eye upon them all.

“Ye dinnae seem overly concerned about the fire or the attack,” Malcolm observed.

“Nonsense!” Joan looked between them with astonishment. “I am deeply distressed. Forgive me, Sir Malcolm, if I do not display the hysterical, female anguish ye expect, but I believed such behavior would be unwanted as well as unhelpful.”

“Can ye think of any reason someone would want to hurt James and Davina?” Malcolm asked.

“We all have enemies, do we not? My survival depends on knowing those who wish me harm. I have neither the time nor the inclination to concern myself with people who might have reason to harm my cousin.” Joan’s impassive expression shifted. “No matter how much the very idea of it distresses me.”

James looked at Joan’s eyes, searching for signs of treachery or deceit. But he saw nothing. She hid her true feelings well.

“Well, someone sent the lad,” Malcolm said dryly.

“Unfortunately, the only person who could answer yer questions is dead. Perhaps next time, James, ye’ll not be so quick to kill,” Joan commented, her tone shrewish.

James went very still. “Is that a warning, Joan?”

“Dinnae be ridiculous.” She flushed and turned away, the first break in her facial armor. “I’m only reminding ye that it would be sensible to remain on guard.”

“I thank ye fer yer concern,” James said sarcastically. “Now, if ye have no further need of me, I will return to my bed.”

“Nay. Davina and I will be using it fer what is left of the night,” James said.

Joan’s face scrunched in horror. “Where will I sleep if ye take my chamber?”

“Ye can have the east corner of the great hall,” James decided. “I’ll have Colin string a line of rope and hang some blankets fer privacy.”

“Blankets? ’Tis unthinkable.” In full fury, Joan straightened like a queen and turned to Davina. “How can ye treat me so unkindly?”

Davina’s lips tightened. “James needs to rest in a proper bed. Our chamber reeks of smoke. We cannae stay there fer the night.”

“Then take Malcolm’s bed,” Joan said, her voice rising another octave.

“Malcolm sleeps in the barracks,” Davina replied. “I cannae go there and I must stay at James’s side to make certain his wound does not fester and bring on a fever.”

---