Page 76 of Cottage in the Mist
“My name is Lily Chastain.”
“A French name,” Alec said, eyes narrowing.
“My father’s, yes.”
“And your mother’s?”
“If you’re asking if we share blood as well as a face, then yes—we do. My great-grandmother was a Macniven.”
“It explains much.” It seemed Alec Comyn was a man of few words.
Behind her Robby shifted, trying to say something, but the words were garbled, distorted with his pain.
Alec’s eyes narrowed again as he focused on the injured man. “And the man behind you? Is he why you’re here, then?”
“No.” Lily shook her head, lowering her guard to reach over to touch Robby’s shoulder. “We found him here. He’s beeninjured. We’ve tried to help him the best that we can. But the wound is bad and there’s no telling how long he’s been on his own out here.”
“And do you know his name?”
“Yes.” Lily’s gaze locked with Alec’s. “Robby Corley.” She waited, watching for his reaction.
“From Dunbrae? And how exactly did he wind up here?”
Lily struggled to answer, wondering how much she should admit to knowing. She flickered a glance at Fergus, who lifted an eyebrow and then at Jeff, who shrugged. Great, no help from that corner. She looked back at her cousin—a hundred times removed or whatever. The man was family after all. Murderous, barbarous family—but still. Honesty it was.
“One of your men injured him. When you massacred the Macgillivrays.” She sucked in a breath, watching her cousin for signs that she’d spoken rashly.
“I’ve massacred no one. In fact, I’ve no’ set foot on Macgillivray lands in years.” His eyes glinted with unspoken anger.
“Maybe you weren’t there in person, but I was told that it was you who gave the order.” Their green-eyed gazes collided, each of them sparking anger. It was like looking into some kind of fun-house mirror.
“As I said, I’ve ordered no one killed and my men have been with me,” he insisted. “But I’ve a healer with me. If you like, I can have him see to the man.”
“And finish what you started?” She pulled to her feet, blocking Alec’s access to Robby, raising her bow again. “I hardly think so.”
“You’re no’ one for believin’ a man, now are you?”
Lily glanced over at her friends again. Fergus tipped his head, signaling her to answer. “No. I’m not.” A lifetime of being the rich man’s kid had taught her to be careful.
“I canna say I fault you.” Alec smiled, and the transformation was almost shocking. To say that he’d looked fierce was an understatement, and now he seemed almost to be laughing at her. Or, just maybe, laughing with her. “One thing canna be doubted,” he said. “You’re most definitely a Comyn. Stubborn to the core. I swear to you, lass, I mean the man no harm.”
Indecision washed through her. She didn’t trust her cousin as far as she could throw him, but Robby needed help.
“Have your men discard their weapons,” she ordered. Alec’s warriors—for there was no doubt that’s what they were—had moved closer. Her pronouncement caused a ripple of amusement. Clearly they were surprised that a woman had the audacity to stand up to their laird.
Alec’s lips twitched, but he held her gaze. “You first.” He nodded toward Fergus, William and Jeff.
“How about we do it at the same time?” Lily fought against a grin. Who the hell would have thought she’d be orchestrating a cease fire in the middle of the fifteenth century? She was from Fairfield county, for God’s sake.
Alec nodded, sheathing his weapon.
Lily laid down her bow, praying she was making the right decision, but something about Alec made her believe him. Although the idea of that left so many unanswered questions she didn’t even know where to begin.
Fergus released a gusty sigh and sheathed his claymore. The huge man beside Alec did the same. And the rest of the men, including William and Jeff, followed suit.
Alec motioned to a smaller man at the back of the crowd. “Come, see to him.”
Lily stepped aside, but stood close as the man knelt beside Robby.
