Page 68 of Rebellion's Fire

Gormflaith glanced at her brother, who gazed after them for a moment before bending and absently picking up the fallen cloak.

“I don’t like her,” Gormflaith announced. Although she lowered her voice, she didn’t much care if she was overheard. “Disagreeably proud and ill-mannered.”

“No,” Adam said without heat. “She’s just afraid we’ll keep her here.”

Gormflaith glanced at him warily. “Will we?”

“Yes,” Adam said, and as his horse was led off to be cared for, he walked on toward the hall.

*

Christian seemed tohave entered a different world from any she’d encountered before. The beautiful young woman, Adam’s sister, who almost shone with vitality and natural, confident grace, met her brother’s unexpected captive with a civility and aplomb that somehow denied the crime.

Hurt and fury consumed Christian at Adam’s betrayal. The wordsHow could he? How could he?repeated over and over in her head. And then,How couldI? How could I be so gullible?

To make everything worse, Halla, the legendary Lady of Ross, waskindto her. Somehow, Christian hadn’t expected Adam and Donald’s mother to look so young. The strength, character, and regality Christian had imagined were certainly there in her high-cheekboned face, so like Adam’s, but so also were sheer beauty and intelligence.

Stiffly, Christian followed the lady through a large, gracious hall. Servants were setting cakes and wine on the high table. Only when the lady spoke in Gaelic, asking them to move the refreshments, did Christian realize they’d all spoken French before. Pointing out that she was still the stranger in this country? Or merely civility?

It didn’t matter. She needed to go home.

Halla led her to a space behind and to one side of the high table, like a miniature hall, where two chairs and a cushioned bench were informally arranged under a half-shuttered window, near a wooden table, on which the servants now set the refreshments.

The lady murmured a dismissal and herself poured bloodred wine into four goblets, the first of which she gave to Christian, bidding her sit in one of the two comfortable chairs. Christian thought of eating and drinking nothing in protest, but she knew she had to think through her anger, and being rude to her noble hostess would hardly endear her.

So, she sat, and because she’d no idea what to say, she sipped the wine. Instantly, the smooth, spicy taste cut through her thoughts and her memory. Before she could prevent it, her glaze flew up and found Adam by the table. His lip quirked slightly, and he lifted the cup to her in a silent toast.

She’d never even ascertained that itwashim who sent the wine cask, let alone thanked him for it. Now she knew for certain and had given the fact away.

So unimportant.

“First,” Halla began pleasantly in French.

“We can speak in Gaelic,” Adam interrupted. “She speaks it perfectly.”

The Lady of Ross inclined her head without so much as glancing at her large son. “Then let me say in our own tongue that we apologize unreservedly for the behavior of our erstwhile guest. He misunderstood and imagined for some reason that his action would please us.”

“Which act?” Christian asked wryly. “Setting fire to Tirebeck or abducting me?”

Halla paused, searching her face. Christian thought she had at least surprised her. “Both,” Halla said smoothly. “I am only glad my son was able to remedy the worst of the situation.”

“Certainly, I had no wish to go to Galloway or to be forcibly married to the Lord of Galloway’s son. I am grateful to be free of that fate.”

Gormflaith sat down on the bench, frowning. “How could you marry Fergus’s son when you’re already married to Lanson? Was Sir William meant to set you aside in rage?”

“No, I believe your brothers were meant to murder him,” Christian retorted.

Gormflaith nodded as if this was not such an unreasonable expectation. She lifted her eyebrow. “Well, I confess I never expected to be your rival in love,” she said flippantly. “Only a day or so ago, there was talk of givingmeto Gilbert of Galloway.” She rose and walked to the table, slapping her brother’s distracted hand off the plate of cakes before picking it up and offering it to Christian.

“That I could more easily understand,” Christian said, accepting a cake before she meant to.

“Of course, he has two sons,” Gormflaith remarked. “Perhaps we were to have one each. Although, like you, Uhtred is married already.”

“Why is he so eager to find another wife for his already married son?” Christian wondered aloud.

Adam said, “His sons hate each other. He’s looking to give one of them an interest outside of Galloway, or they’ll tear it apart between them when Fergus is dead.”

Christian bit into the cake, which, like the wine, was distractingly delicious. With an effort, she hung on to the thread of her thoughts and fixed her gaze on Gormflaith, who was returning to her seat armed with a cake of her own.

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