Page 6 of Keepers of the Highland Crown
Callum stepped toward the abbot. “Abbot, we are here by the order of King Alexander.” He inclined his brow towards… “Sir Brayden has been tasked in seeing you safely to Perth where the treaty shall be signed by our King of Scots with the Norwegian delegation present.”
“If this behavior is a trait you harbor, the treaty shall be cast into the winds,” the copper-haired lord, whose beard seemed bigger than his head, retorted.
“Two insults at my feet in mere moments. Who are you?” Callum questioned tersely. Was it only the insults? Not quite; he had defended Nella, which spoke to an intimacy.
The squatty frame grew taller when he straightened his stance. “Lord Keithen.”
Before he could respond, Abbot nodded, reclaiming the conversation. “Very well, Sir Callum. My Lady Fawnella, I would seek the others to know our good fortune in being found and seek aid for the wounded abbess.”
“For certain,” Nella replied, and her eyes met Callum’s. An iron cuff may be locked on his need for sensibility but hell ifthe rest of him wasn’t already doomed at wanting her again. Was this Lord Keithen her husband?
“Abbot and Lord Keithen” – no, not her husband – “I would care for a moment to speak with Sir Callum. Perhaps you both may take the path to the cavern with Sir Brayden and those two knights to retrieve the others?”
Lord Keithen looked toward Nella then snarled, “First I must speak with you in private, Lady Fawnella.” Why did it seem more a crass order than request?
Callum stepped forward. “One asks,notdemands, Lord Keithen,” he growled.
“As one demands to crush a lady beneath oneself?” Keithen retorted. “Knight, captain of the royal guard, and honorary Templar? Ha! The actions I have beheld this eve are those of a lowborn. Lady Fawnella, directly we speak.”
“You dare to demand this of Lady Fawnella once more in that tone, I shall show you the actions of a lowborn.”
***
What was happening here? All that was missing were horns on the two stages. She raised both hands between them. “Sir Callum, ’tis fine.”
Once four steps from the prying ears of Callum, she heard Keithen say, “I do not care for his manner. My lady, I fear for you in his presence once I am forced to take my leave at dawn for the responsibilities beholden to Clan MacMardan.”
“Keithen,” she assured, “King Alexander would not task Sir Callum with the post of captain if he harbored fears about what you now declare. Take heart and take confidence in our lord king’s choice.”
“Lady Fawnella, King Alexander is nothing but a fool from what I have seen this eve,” Keithen retorted.
Nella’s breath caught. “Be mindful,” she whispered. “Keithen, those are words born of treason.”
“Truth,” Keithen replied harshly, then his expression softened. “However, I trust in your appraisal. If you believe he is worthy, then I shall take my leave.”
Nella looked over at the abbot, whose eyes darted between them all before looking at Sir Brayden and the two knights approaching from the far-off barn. “Sir Brayden and your fellow knights, ’tis simply through this grove to the cavern,” Abbot called then hailed at, “Come, Lord Keithen.” Keithen nodded toward her then followed the cluster back into the trees.
Abbot was right, it would only be mere moments before the whole group re-converged; she had to be quick. Looking toward Callum, she paused a step.
How dare he show up here, looking like a Scotsman on a stick; all tall, dark, and dashing. Those broad shoulders resembling the boulder near her, a square jaw appearing more chiseled by a shadow in dark bristle, his eyes… those clear blue eyes, ugh! She dropped into the deep end of the sea every time she looked into them. Why couldn’t his gaze be beady same as the swine he was? Why was he even here?
She smoothed her palms over her gown.Gather. Breathe. Speak to Sir Dashing, do not drool all over the place and create an instant puddle.All ready?“Sir Callum Cu—”Nope, not ready.She halted before the “r”. At least she hadn’t called him Sir Dashing.
Ahem.“Sir Callum,” she began again, “there is a despicable truth you must know regarding this eve. Those who set this abbey ablaze were not Northmen.” She pointed at the Dane axe Sir Brayden had abandoned on the ground beside them. “They…” Her words broke slightly when they would not form at disbelief. “They were Scotsmen, our own Highlanders.”
Callum closed the distance between them. “Truly?”
“Aye.”
He rubbed his brow as if a sudden ache had seeded there. “My lady, would you know these Scots?”
Callum did not know her enhanced instinct in sense. Was she telling him now? Nope. “Only the leader of the bandits,” she replied carefully.
“You would be able to place him if found?”
“In a manner of ‘speaking’, aye.”Well, it was true.“Regarding the ‘found’ I may offer some guidance. He mentioned a gathering at the Thistleland’s Tavern with his benefactor rewarding him handsomely.”
Callum paced a moment while he ruffled his fingers through his hair. Why did she find this so distracting? It used to beherfingers. Her palms clenched into fists hidden in her skirt folds.Stop being a foolish lass!
