Page 10 of Claimed
“Haughty, aye,” he replied, his mouth quirking. “However, I wouldn’t call ye spoiled, milady. When toil is necessary, ye have never turned yer back on it. Folk will remember how ye regularly brought baskets of food to them so they didn’t starve over the winter.”
Drew sucked in a surprised breath. That had to be the longest discourse she’d ever heard from her taciturn guard. His frankness unbalanced her. The urge to gently chide him for his words rose within Drew, yet she prevented herself.
They were away from Dunan, and the new setting had loosened both their tongues. She liked seeing this new side to Broderick. If she mocked him, he’d just retreat into his shell and they’d pass their meal in tense silence.
“Will they?” she murmured after a pause. “I fear many of them can’t see past the fact that I am Duncan MacKinnon’s sister. They still look for someone to blame … and tar me with the same brush.”
“And yet they saw ye welcome Craeg as clan-chief. A loyal sister wouldn’t have done so.”
Drew snorted. “They probably judge me for that too,” she replied, reaching for the half-loaf of bread the inn-keeper had given her and ripping off a chunk. “Not everyone has such a rosy view of me, as ye well know.” Drew paused there, suddenly aware how bitter she sounded. “But ye are right. I did welcome Craeg. The MacKinnons needed a clan-chief. Bastard or not, he was heir.”
“Ye were relieved … we all were,” Carr replied, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Ye didn’t want Duncan to return.”
The half-smile Drew had been wearing slipped. “Ye are right, I didn’t.” She motioned to the untouched plate of food before him. “Go on … dig in, before it gets cold.”
They started on their meals. It was simple yet delicious fare. The mutton had been slow-roasted—for most of the day it seemed—as it fell apart in tender chunks. The onions were sweet, and the bread tasty and fresh. Washed down with the cool ale, it was the perfect meal.
Drew savored every mouthful, and she noted that Broderick did the same.
Around them, the rumble of conversation rose and fell in the common room. The noise grew increasingly raucous as the inn’s patrons consumed tankard after tankard of ale. A harpist had set himself up upon a stool to one side of the fire. The lad was playing a jaunty tune, yet the melody was lost in the roar of surrounding voices.
Eventually, as her belly started to signal that it was full, Drew leaned back in her seat and observed her supper companion. Broderick was wiping up the gravy off his plate with the last of his bread. Like most men, he had an impressive appetite.
It was pleasant sitting here, lulled by the warmth of the fire and good food and ale. If she could freeze a moment in time from the past years, it would be this one.
“I planned to turn against Duncan, ye know?” she said finally, breaking the companionable silence between them. “I even asked Ross Campbell if he’d stand with me.”
Broderick’s eyes widened at this admission. “Ye did?”
Drew nodded. It was a treacherous thing she was revealing, yet what did it matter? Craeg was the MacKinnon clan-chief now. “It was just before Campbell ran away with Leanna … so it wasn’t much help to me.” She observed his facial expression, before she continued. “That’s not the only betrayal against Duncan I committed … later, when Campbell freed Leanna from my brother’s bed-chamber, I helped them get out of the broch.”
Broderick let out a slow exhale and leaned back. “That was a risk indeed, milady. If he’d ever found out, things would have gone ill for ye.”
“I know … but my conscience was bothering me.” Her mouth curved at the arch look he now favored her with. “Aye … maybe I’m not as cold-hearted as everyone believes.”
He smiled. His right cheek dimpled slightly when he did that, something she’d not noticed until now. “Since we are speaking honestly tonight, milady … I also have a confession to make.” He lifted his tankard to his lips and took a deep draft before continuing. “Two days after their escape from Dunan, I caught up with Lady Leanna and Campbell.”
Drew inclined her head at this news. “I’d wager that Campbell wasn’t happy to see ye.”
Broderick’s mouth quirked. “Things were tense initially … but in the end, I let them go.”
Drew smiled. “Of course ye did.”
His gaze widened. “Ye aren’t surprised? I was yer brother’s faithful hound after all.”
The self-recrimination in his tone was hard to miss, and Drew’s smile faded. “So was Campbell, once. But he changed his allegiances.” She studied him, her hands now cupped around her tankard. “I’m glad ye told me this, Broderick,” she said softly. “I wish I’d confided in ye the way I did in Campbell, but ye are so hard to read I couldn’t be sure that ye wouldn’t betray me.”
His face tightened, a glimmer of the usual severity returning to his features. “I’d never betray ye, Lady Drew,” he murmured. “I’d take my own life first.”
The words were softly uttered, barely inaudible, and yet they made Drew’s breathing hitch. Broderick’s loyalty to her was surprising and humbling. She couldn’t imagine what she’d done to merit it.
She was just about to say as much, when a shadow fell across their booth.
Drew tore her gaze from Broderick, to see that a huge man with close-cropped dark hair and a short beard loomed over her. He’d been one of those playing knucklebones at the nearby table. She’d barely paid him any attention earlier, yet it was impossible to ignore him now when he stood so close.
An odorous wave of stale sweat and rank ale-breath washed over her.
“Lady Drew,” the stranger greeted her. His voice, a low growl, made the fine hair on the back of her neck stand up.
