Page 11 of Much Ado About a Scot

The boy imitated him. “Is this right?”

“Aye. Now prop your hands on your hips and give me a fierce look.”

Jamie skewed his face up. His mop of dark curls and his intense blue eyes looked more adorable than fierce, but the child had the basic idea.

“Now wave your hands around over your head in wild erratic circles.” Xander demonstrated.

Jamie’s laughter filled the barn as he joined in on the game.

“Very good.” Xander stilled his movements and dropped down on one knee before the lad. “Animals won’t attack anything that looks like it will be more effort than it’s worth.”

Jamie stilled. “That eagle will leave me alone if I do this?”

“It should. But in case it does not, then draw your weapon.” Xander took the boy’s right hand in his and guided it to the hilt of the sgian dubh, pulling the small blade from the sheath. Xander drew his hand back until the boy alone held the knife. “You should only use this blade when it is absolutely necessary. We do not kill things unless we must protect ourselves, or unless we intend to eat them. Understood?”

All traces of humor faded from the boy’s face as he stared down at the small, but sharp blade. “I understand.”

Xander stood. “Return the blade to its sheath and keep it there until you have need of it. Weapons are not toys.”

Jamie did as instructed, but then his gaze drifted to Xander’s belt and the sheathed dagger there. “Have you used your sword?”

The question sent a shiver down Xander’s spine. More times than he wanted to remember. “Aye, but only when absolutely necessary.” He turned his back on the boy, ending any further conversation. While he wanted to give the boy instruction that was clearly lacking in his life, he did not want anything to become too personal between them. Having only a peripheral connection would make it easier to leave when the time came.

“I’m gonna show Mummy!”

Xander turned to see Jamie disappearing out the barn door and running toward the house. Xander hesitated. Should he chase after the child and explain to the mother why he had given a three-year-old a weapon, or should he head back toward Dunbar Manor and continue his spying? After all, that was his main reason for placing himself in this awkward situation. With a frustrated growl, he knew what he had to do. He needed to make Isobel understand the importance of Jamie learning to protect himself.

Xander emerged from the barn determined to do just that when he looked up to see Isobel storming toward him, a dark scowl on her face and his sgian dubh in her hand. She stopped before him, her cheeks flushed and her breathing tight. “How dare you give my child a weapon.” She thrust the hand bearing the small blade at him. “Take this back.”

“Your son needs to be able to keep himself safe.”

“I’ll keep him safe,” she said, her voice shaking with ire.

“Then how do you explain Jamie almost becoming an eagle’s supper earlier this afternoon?” Xander pointed to the sky, to the golden eagle that still hovered overhead. “If I hadn’t been there, that eagle would have killed your son in a heartbeat. He needed to know how to fend off an attack himself in case you aren’t there to protect him.”

Instead of deflating her anger, his pointing out the truth only seemed to infuriate her more. She lifted her chin and met his gaze before tossing the blade at his feet, barely missing his toes. “You are not his parent. You are not responsible in any way for his well-being.” She clenched her fists and her eyes blazed. “And for giving a knife to a child, you can sleep in the barn!”

As much as he hated to admit it at the moment, Isobel was quite magnificent, standing there with her cheeks afire and her eyes sparkling. And yet, he would never say as much to her. “That’s fine by me,” he countered, forcing disgust into his voice that wasn’t there. “I like the smell of straw.” It would be much easier to slip from the barn later tonight to continue his investigation of her neighbor than it would be from the house. Aye, sleeping in the barn would suit him better than sleeping in a warm bed beside her.

Chapter Five

Two hours later, Isobel ventured back toward the barn and the man she’d relegated to its dark and drafty confines. The man had saved her child. If Xander hadn’t been there . . . Isobel cringed at the thought of what might have happened to her precious child. That fact alone should warrant him some special treatment. Now that her initial anger had passed, she regretted treating him so harshly. She would never forgive herself if he caught a cold while sleeping out there without adequate blankets. And if truth be told, she couldn’t afford any more rumors about the mistreatment of her husbands. Even though with Ezra it had been the other way around.

“Xander?” she called from outside the doorway with an armful of blankets and a plate of supper. “I brought you a few things.”

The door opened. Xander stood there, leaning casually against the jamb with a scowl on his face. “Miss me already?”

She ignored the barb. “I brought food and blankets.”

He stepped aside, allowing her to enter. “Sweet gifts from my new bride. Might I assume you mean to sleep out here with me?”

“You may not.” She tossed the blankets down on a pile of straw near the door then thrust the plate of rabbit and spiced dumplings with a thick wedge of buttered bread into his hands.

He accepted his supper but looked not upon the offering. Instead, his eyes raked downward over her body. “Then have you come to offer something else?”

Isobel gave him a scathing glance and stepped further away. “You are delirious if you even think we will have a joining tonight like a loving husband and wife.”

He moved to the workbench deeper into the barn and set his plated dinner down before turning back to her. “I seem to remember a promise you made upon our marriage that you have conveniently elected to forget.”