Brianna found that the Campbell clan well protected their own. They were fiercely loyal, but then, so was the Cameron clan. Arran had been loyal to no one but himself and greed.
She appreciated the clan’s protection, but after a week of constantly being followed around by two or more men and several of the clan’s women joining her for a stroll, or her husband forever being at her side, she began to feel imprisoned.
She ached for her freedom, but she understood the necessity of her guards. That, however, did not mean she was always patient.
“I do not want to do any stitching right now, Delia,” Brianna said a little snappishly.
Delia paid her no heed. “It will be good for you to join a few of the village women and stitch. Stitching always clears the head.”
Brianna was curt. “My head is clear.”
Royce listened from where he sat at a table in the great hall with John and William.
Delia continued to pay her no mind. “We will all have freshly brewed cider and honey cakes.”
“I am not hungry,” Brianna said, and though she was not tired, it seemed a good excuse to get away from everyone. “I feel the need for a nap.”
“I will settle you,” Delia said, ready to tend Brianna’s every need, though actually her intentions were to protect.
“Nay!” Brianna heard her own harshness but did not care. She wanted simply to be left alone. “I do not need settling.”
Her abruptness did not upset Delia. “As you wish.”
Royce admired and was grateful for Delia’s patience. He understood how confined his wife felt and how her usual pleasant nature had sorely been tested of late.
Brianna went to leave the hall when she suddenly stopped, turned, and walked up to her husband. William and John looked as though they were ready to flee as she approached, but one look from Royce warned them against it.
“Do you think Ian may have run into trouble along the road?” she asked with concern.
“It is possible, though your brother is wise and would be prepared for anything,” Royce said, hoping to reassure her.
She was not reassured. “Perhaps you should send some of your men out to see if my brother is close by.”
Royce did not doubt Ian’s skills and knew her suggestion was unnecessary, but he also knew that his wife was irritated and that nothing at this point would please her. He hoped to handle her with a gentle hand.
“If he does not arrive within the next day or two, I will consider it.”
“He could be in trouble this very moment, and you intend to wait a day or two?” Her voice rose with each word.
It was possible her own accident haunted her thoughts, and she worried over her brother. But somehow he doubted that; she was simply agitated by her condition and confinement. He reminded himself to have patience, as he had been reminding himself for the last two days.
“Your brother is a skillful warrior.”
“He can still get hurt.”
William and John inched closer to the edge of their seats, each prepared to run if necessary.
“True,” Royce said calmly. “But I am certain he brought enough men with him on the journey.”
“It does not always matter how many men fight.” She slammed her hands on her hips, ready for battle. “It did not with you.”
Delia cringed. John shook his head, and William’s youthful eyes widened in surprise.
Royce took a solid breath. He told himself that this woman standing before him was overwrought with worry and had a right to be, that somewhere inside of her was the pleasant and lovely woman he had fallen in love with and that soon she would make an appearance and spare them this skirmish.
“Need I remind you that I won the battle, as I am sure that your brother would if faced with a similar circumstance?”
“I do not wish to see my brother suffer needlessly.”