Wrapped within the golden light she looked like one of the fey who’d slipped away from the Otherworld. Firelight shimmered across her moisture-dampened skin as she brushed her hair, each stroke sending ripples through her blond tresses.
With a silent curse, he damned the upcoming discussion and closed the door.
At the soft thud she turned. Lavender eyes softened.
“Your hair is damp?” he said, fumbling at how to begin, news that would destroy the warmth in her eyes.
“As I believed you wouldna be here until much later,” she said, a hint of nerves sliding through her voice, “I enjoyed the luxury of a bath.”
A drop of water fell from her hair and rolled down her golden skin. Mesmerized, he watched its errant slide until the droplet disappeared beneath her tunic, and he too easily imagined the feel of her damp skin beneath his hands.
Thomas cleared his throat. “We must talk.”
At his somber tone, the smile in her eyes faded, and she lowered the brush. “What is wrong?”
However much he cursed the telling, she needed the truth. “Your father is en route to Dair Castle.”
Chapter Seventeen
Alesone’s hand trembled as she set aside her brush, stood and faced Thomas. “The guards at Dair Castle spotted my father and his men?”
“Nay.” He strode over. “A runner carrying a missive from the Bruce to Dair Castle was spotted by your father’s knights, and they gave chase. Though severely injured, King Robert’s man was able to escape. John MacLairish found him, brought him here to recover.”
“Will he live?”
“Aye.”
“Thank God,” she whispered. “What did the writ say that was of such importance?”
“That our king has grown ill with the auld sickness and delayed his attack and is making camp near Slioch.”
“An affliction he has struggled with over the years.” Her stomach tightened. “And with the king ill and nae able to lead his forces, you believe my father will ride straight here en force.”
“Aye,” he replied.
The ramifications of Comyn’s arrival made her want to retch. Thomas’s home and the family he loved would be under attack, and more lives would be lost because of her. Damning the situation and refusing to allow more people to die, she angled her jaw. “I will leave.”
Thomas frowned. “What?”
“My father will attack Dair Castle,” she said, her mind a blur of worry, “and you are still unable to travel. But, I could take a horse and—”
“Nay!”
Heartsick, she laid her hand atop his. “Do you nae understand? ’Tis the only way to deflect my father’s assault. Once he discovers I am gone, he will leave.”
Face grim, he drew her close. “The time for your escaping has passed. Nor does Comyn ride only for you. With my father having formally announced his fealty for the Bruce, your father’s intent is twofold.”
Tears blurred her eyes, and she stared at the stained-glass windows unsure what to say, ashamed to be tied to such a horrid man.
Strong hands caught her shoulders.
She stiffened. “I despise him.”
“With good cause, but dinna blame yourself. Any acts of malice are because of your father’s greed.”
“Regardless, it changes naught.”
“It doesna,” he said, his voice grim. “We will hold Dair Castle. Comyn will achieve naught but frustration.”
