Page 9 of Much Ado About a Scot

Her thoughts flashed back to only moments ago when Xander had held her so gently in his arms. Her need for comfort had been both fierce and uncontrollable. Isobel closed her eyes as the loneliness she’d felt since Rory had died crept back inside. She hugged herself against the sudden chill that swept through every fiber of her being.

Thoughts of her first husband’s final moments came back to her.

As Rory lay on their bed, drenched in sweat, he took her hand. “Promise me you’ll marry again, Isobel. Give our son a father, someone who will love him as I would have, had I lived.”

“You’re strong. You must fight to stay with us.” Isobel swallowed against the pain the thought of losing him brought. “Nay. I don’t need anyone else in my life. Only you.”

“Everyone needs someone, my darling. Don’t condemn yourself or our son to a life alone.”

He’d died ten minutes later.

Isobel opened her eyes. She had tried to honor Rory’s wish with Ezra who had been so sweet and doting to both Jamie and herself before their marriage. Only once the vows were said and he had moved into Rory’s bed did the vile man’s true nature come out. With the memory, she clasped her arms tightly about her, hugging them against her shivering body.

It didn’t matter who or what this stranger was or who he would become in the days, weeks, or months ahead because she was in charge here—in charge of the farm, in charge of her body, and in charge of her and Jamie’s future.

That was what was important to focus on, not the loneliness that crept upon her at night or the forgotten feeling a man’s arms around her brought.

Chapter Four

Xander grabbed a scythe from the shed and headed out to the field that bordered David Graham’s house. He had no intention of working in the fields today. All he wanted to do today was get a feel for the place and to assess how he might access David Graham’s house later this evening. He took the tools with him in order to have a plausible explanation for why he was hovering near Graham’s house should anyone come upon him.

Above him, a bird screeched. He lifted his gaze to the clear blue sky to see a golden eagle circling overhead, searching for prey in the wide-open field. Like the bird, Xander preferred to hunt alone. He released a breath as he trudged through a knee-high rye field until he came to the edge. Dunbar Manor was visible through a line of rowan trees that delineated one estate from the other.

The Graham estate sat atop a small rise and looked out of place with its pink-hued sandstone set against the rolling fields of oats and rye that surrounded it. It was not a fortified residence, but Xander could clearly see two guards posted at the front of the manor and assumed the same would be true of the rear. ’Twas the first sign that something or someone worth protecting was within the manor’s walls.

Moving silently along the treeline, Xander surveyed the manor. He had to either get closer to the windows or find a perch nearby where he might catch a glimpse of anyone inside or listen to the conversations. He continued down the line of trees, committing the manor’s exterior to memory. He would come back later tonight and get closer when darkness would conceal his movements from the guards.

Over the years, and through many battles, Xander had learned how to slip through the darkness with nary a sound. He’d also perfected his tracking skills, which would be useful when or if someone left the manor. The way a man or a woman disturbed the earth on which they trod revealed a lot about that person. Xander looked back at his own tracks through the rye. He’d barely disturbed the golden stalks with their heavy heads bowing toward the ground. The sign of someone who doesn’t wish to be followed. But to his trained eye, he could detect the heads of rye turned in the direction he moved.

A rustling sounded in the distance.

Xander’s hand moved to the dagger at his side, yet he did not draw it. He stepped back into the shadow of the trees. The noise came not from the Graham estate, but back toward Isobel’s home. Xander could see the rye stalks moving in a random pattern—left, then right, then further right before heading back to the left.

An animal?

Above him, the golden eagle zeroed in on whatever it was as an easy meal. The bird of prey circled once, then a second time lower, then lower still.

A soft chortle sounded and Xander’s muscles tensed and his heart began to pound. That was no animal. It was a child.

Isobel’s son?

Xander tossed his scythe aside. The eagle dove in the same instant he sprinted forward. He was too far away. Too sluggish in the knee-high grass. Not caring about the trail he left behind, Xander pushed himself harder. He had to reach the child before the dark brown bird did. The massive bird with its lethal talons could kill a fox or even a young deer in one blow.

A raw sound tore from Xander’s throat, momentarily startling the bird, giving him a split-second edge as he leapt forward and enveloped the child in his arms. They rolled together to the ground as the bird of prey’s talons sliced not into the child, but into Xander’s shoulder, ripping the fabric of his shirt and connecting with the flesh beneath.

Xander ignored the pain as he shielded the child with his body until the bird shrieked then lifted back toward the sky. The child wiggled in Xander’s arms but did not so much as whimper. When he was certain it was safe, Xander sat up and pulled the child into his lap. A huge pair of blue eyes stared back at him. The eyes were unfamiliar, but the face of the child was a mirror image of Isobel’s—brown hair fanned the child’s forehead and curls brushed his cheeks. “You must be Jamie.”

The boy nodded.

Overhead the golden eagle continued to circle, moving on in its search for food. “Why are you outside alone? Where is your mother or your nursemaid?”

The boy bit down on his lip. “I wanted to play, but nobody listened.”

Xander set the boy on his feet as he got to his own. “Let’s get you home.” He extended his hand.

The boy simply looked at the outstretched hand. “Who are you?”

“Ahh . . .” Xander hesitated. He wasn’t expecting to have to introduce himself to the child. “I’m a friend of your mother’s.”