Page 4 of Kilty By Association
The words sounded…false somehow. Elspeth cocked her head, studying him. “’Tis no’ for myself I ask, but for—” Again, she bit off the words. Brigit would warn her against announcing her nine-year-old son was the Earl of Dungotit. “For Robbie. I—I love him, and I worry.”
To her surprise, the man’s expression eased into a scowl. “And yer lover cannae hire his own bodyguard? What kind of man sends alassto do his dirty work for him?”
“Nay, ye dinnae understand, he’s too young—”
“That’s no’ any better, milady. If ye think yer lover is too young to hire a guard—”
Oh, blessed virgin, she was going to have to explain a bit of the truth. “He’s my son!” she blurted. “Please. I need…to ensure he’s safe.”
“Oh.” The lines around Craig’s eyes slackened, and his eyes—a light brown—studied her. “How auld is the lad?” he finally asked.
For the first time, Elspeth allowed her gaze to drop to her hands, which were clasped on the table in front of her. Her fingers were uncalloused, a sign of her status—worthy only of being a wife and mother to an Earl. But she would claw those fingers to the bone if that’s what it took to protect Robbie.
“He is nine,” she whispered. “And he’s verra precious. To me.”
And to the Sinclairs. Her uncle was the current laird, but Robbie would be the next Laird Sinclair, assuming he lived to adulthood.
The thought he might not had made her physically ill more than once.
The lassies—Katharine and Mary—could not become heirs, not for the Sinclairs or the Earldom of Dungotit. And John hadbeen fond of pointing out Elspeth’s failure to bear another live son, despite several additional pregnancies.
Aye, Robbie was precious, but not just because of his role. He was precious because of who hewas, and if the guards at Scone couldn’t keep him safe, she’d hire a criminal to do so.
After all, surely bandits understood one another?
“So,No’-LadyElspeth, ye’ve found yer way into one of the most dangerous taverns in the city in order to hire a bodyguard for yer son, and ye’ve chosen me because yer friend says I’m the best? I’ve never guarded a lad afore.”
“Nay, I imagine ye havenae.” She forced herself to meet his gaze again. “But his life is in danger, and I need someone who is strong enough to protect him.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, and she hated how it wavered.
Hated how weak she sounded.
For a moment, she thought he would agree. His eyes were full of pity, his lips parted. She wascertainhe would ask for more details, agree to her price.
But then he blinked and looked away, his expression hardening once more. His gaze locked on something across the room, and he shifted on his bench.
“Look somewhere else, lass,” he growled. “I’m no’ looking for a job as a bodyguard.”
“But yearelooking for a job?” she blurted, then winced at the artlessness of the statement. “I mean, Brigit learned ye were hoping to be hired—”
“By a bandit leader, no’ by a lady.”
At this point, it was likely foolish to keep pretending she wasn’t a lady.
“I’ll pay you better than he would!”
Another wince. Brigit would chide her for announcing something like that so loudly in such a place. But then, her maid had always seemed more worldly than Elspeth. Perhaps it had something to do with living in Scone all her life?
But to her surprise, Craig wasn’t swayed by the offer. He didn’t evenglanceat her. His jaw tightened, and his gaze swept the tavern as if looking for danger.
“Dinnae say such things,” he finally growled. “Or I’ll end up having to protectyeinstead of yer son. A lass isnae safe in a place like this.”
Oh.
Oh,my.
Elspeth’s fingers—still clasped—rose to her lips to smother her gasp. Of surprise, aye, but also of…longing?
How long had it been since a man offered to protecther? Cared enough to worry abouther, instead of just what she could bring him?
