Page 12 of A Constant Blaze

After she’d eaten, she stayed by the fire only long enough to prove that she wasn’t remotely intimidated by anyone’s presence before she rose abruptly to her feet.

“Good night, Somerled,” she interrupted the talk on the far side of the fire. “My lord.”

Her women scrambled up with her, clearly disappointed not to have longer to ogle the young earl. Somerled merely nodded, not yet having drunk enough to forgive her for accidentally shooting his ally. More surprisingly, the earl stood courteously and, to her annoyance, actually walked over to her.

“Good night,” he said civilly. “Allow me to walk with you to your tent.”

She couldn’t stop him, not without a fuss. And in any case, she might as well make her apology now and get it over with.

They walked the few paces in silence. Then Halla stopped and glanced at him. He wore a rather fine cloak now, fastened with a silver-and-enamel brooch showing the red lion of Scotland and the single word Ross around the top edge. Arrogant and defiant. She would have liked his style in other circumstances.

“I ask your pardon,” she muttered.

“For what?”

The women passed them, discreetly going inside the tent.

“For letting the arrow go,” Halla said in a rush. “I didn’t believe that Somerled was behind me. I thought it was a ruse until he spoke.”

“Startling you into releasing the arrow,” he said gravely. “I understand.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She would have turned away and followed her women then, except his voice stayed her.

“On the contrary, it isIwho thankyou.”

“For what?” she asked, surprised.

“For not aiming at my heart.”

An involuntary frown tugged down her brow. “What do you mean? I didn’t aim at all.”

Unexpectedly, he held out his hand. She hesitated, then, deciding it would be churlish to refuse in the circumstances, she reluctantly gave him hers. His fingers closed around it, long, strong fingers, warm on her cool flesh.

“Come, Halla,” he said with a gentleness she suddenly didn’t trust. “If we are to be married, we must at least be honest with each other. I’ve been around weapons all my life, as have you. I know when someone’s taking aim, and when they distract me with false moves, like starts of surprise. You already knew who I was. You shot me deliberately.”

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Even Somerled hadn’t seen that, and her brother was nobody’s fool. Malcolm was guessing. He had to be. She just couldn’t seem to deny it.

He leaned forward as if to hear the words she didn’t speak. “And hit me precisely where you meant to.”

She lifted her chin. “Why would I do such a thing?”

“To hurt me and my pride without hurting our alliance.”

His perception actually frightened her. From instinct, she tried to tug her hand free, to escape him, but he held on to it with ease.

“I told you, I understand. My pride isn’t hurt. Ilikethat you’re clever.” He smiled with rather dazzling effect. “Ross and the Isles is an excellent partnership. But I’m beginning to think the alliance between you and me could be truly formidable.” Under her bemused gaze, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. The faintest gleam in his eyes gave her an instant’s warning. “When you grow up.”

She snatched back her hand in fury, but he’d already released it and was walking away, back to the fire. At least he didn’t laugh.

*

It had becomea shared secret that bound them, and, later a private joke. More than two decades after the event, Halla knew how to make Malcolm heed her instructions.

She sat down at the hall table, listening only vaguely to the discussions of the others.

“And if the king does not believe in your loyalty?” Adam said to Cairistiona.

“He will,” Cairistiona replied, “if Alys is with me and tells the same tale.”

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