Page 18 of Seductive Scot
“He’s a despicable coward,” Reikart said, surprising her.
She frowned. “Do ye know him?”
“No, but he left you alone during a battle, and he should have stayed to protect you.” She stared blankly at him, unaccustomed to such honor surrounded as she had been by the vipers at Court. He tugged a hand through his hair in a self-conscious gesture. “You’re supposed to marry him, right?”
“I was,” she replied, ashamed of herself for ever accepting such a fate. She may need to wed, but she would have a say in who, somehow, someway. “Please, I must see Maggie before I leave.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rhys asked.
“With him,” she said, pointing to Reikart, who looked back at her, shocked. “He’s going to Castle Hightower, and I must go, too. I need to speak with Shona and Grace, and then I’ll make haste to the English court from there if ye want me to get the cross for ye.”
“No way,” Reikart said.
She held up a staying hand to stop any of the rest of them from protesting, and the men fell silent. “Algien will think I managed to escape all of you. He believes—” She looked around, unsure how much to say and unsure who knew what already. “He believes me to be a willing conspirator of my brother’s,” she whispered, leaving it at that. “I am yer best hope for getting that cross, though I suppose I’d like to know what’s so special about it if I might die trying to obtain it.”
“It’s—” Reikart began.
Rhys elbowed his brother. “Valuable,” he supplied. “Very valuable. It’s very important to our family.”
She arched her eyebrows. They definitely were not sharing everything with her. “Worth dying for?”
“Yes,” both brothers answered in unison.
“So be it,” she said. “I’ll make my way to the English court after I see Shona and Grace.”
“Ye think we trust ye to go to the English court and return to us on yer own?” Alastair asked, almost seeming amused.
“I think ye’ll have to,” she retorted.
Chapter Six
’Tis not that Dying hurts us so–
’Tis living– hurts us more–
But Dying– is a different way–
A kind behind the Door–
~ Emily Dickinson, “’Tis not that dying hurts us so”
“Bend the knee,” Rhys announced loudly and suddenly, quieting the men in the hall and capturing their attention at once.
Reikart didn’t know what the hell was going on, and neither did his uncles based on their open mouths and wide eyes.
“Give me your fealty,” Rhys bellowed, “and in return, I give you my word to be a fair lord, and—”
“That’s nae how it’s done, Nephew,” Dermot interrupted.
“It may not be,” Rhys replied, “but we need to hurry.”
“Towhat?” Dermot asked.
“Make haste,” Rhys explained before continuing. “We need to go after Bellecote and see to Mom.”
Dermot shook his head. “Ye need to stay here and take control of this castle,” he said. “I’ll take Reikart and the lady to Hightower and hopefully track down Donald. After I’ve dealt with him, I’ll accompany the lady to the English court and retrieve yer cross.”
“Algien knows ye, Dermot,” she pointed out. “He’ll nae trust ye.” Her attention settled on Reikart. “Do ye know the baron?”
