She watched with her hand on her hip while he laughed. Her challenging glare gave him cause to reconsider the last question he asked himself. He thought it best to sleep with one eye open.
“What are ye doin’ loiterin’ in this room when the others left?” he asked with demand staining the deep cadence of his voice.
“I was remembering something and didna want to disturb my memory.”
Something that brought her to the edge of weeping. “What were ye rememberin’?” Nae! He didn’t want to ask her! He wanted to hit himself on the forehead.
“My brother, Roderick,” she told him, ignoring his fallen expression. “I called him Roddy. He was mean to me when we were wee brats, but later, he became second only to my father. I have missed them all fer too long, and knowing my heart will never heal makes me hateful and hopeless.”
Logan stared at her. He didn’t know what to say. He would never forgive anyone who hurt his parents and siblings. “I understand why ye hate my clan.”
She walked out of the sitting room and then said over her shoulder, “Good, then understanding that I must kill ye shouldna be far behind.”
Chapter Six
Elspeth heard themen outside her window the next morning. They were preparing to leave for the castle they called home. They wouldn’t be here to eat what she prepared. She wanted to scream. She couldn’t follow them and kill them surrounded by dozens or even hundreds of others. It was perfect here. Why did they want to leave so badly anyway? She could have killed them together—or close enough. In a few days or a sennight, they would have been too weak to stop her once they suspected. A neat, quiet death—and then she could have gone to this Tor Castle, where many Camerons lived without any of them knowing who she was.
The only consolation was that she would get to kill the one who had caused everyone’s misery. Including, it seemed, his own.
She dressed in her breeches and tunic from the day before and lifted her arm to give herself a sniff. Her borrowed clothes didn’t stink…yet. If she was going to stay here…with him, she was going to have to sew more clothes for herself.
She looked around for a comb but there was none. It didn’t matter. She would not be able to run it through her knots anyway. It left her with tears in her eyes at what she was going to have to do. Even this sin of vanity she would pile on the Camerons.
Resigned, she tied her tangled hair at her nape, pinched the balls of her cheeks and headed for the bedroom door. Shestopped when she reached it. What if she was locked inside again? A prisoner, forced to escape by any means necessary. She turned to look at the windows, then the hearth. She swallowed and said a silent prayer never to have to escape through the chimney. But she would if she had to.
Not wanting to find out, but needing to know, she reached out for the latch and gave the door a pull.
It opened. Her heart resumed beating.
She knew everyone was outside, so she hurried to the front door and pulled it open.
A cool morning breeze washed over her, along with the gazes of four men.
Jamie was the first to smile at her. Ewen gave her a bow from his saddle. Steafan narrowed his eyes on her, his smile fading. Logan’s expression didn’t change at all when he saw her. In fact, he looked uninterested in her. Good! The feeling was entirely mutual!
She gave him her best glare, but it was short-lived when he pulled a woolen mantle from Steafan’s saddle bag and went to her with it.
It took every ounce of mettle she possessed to keep her stunned expression hidden. When he wrapped the mantle around her shoulders and tied the ends into a knot, she nearly burst into a foolish smile.
She kept her expression as passive as his.
He hated her but he concerned himself with keeping her warm. His words invaded her thoughts.I’ll no’ have this lass cause any harm to my kin, nor will I have them cause harm to her.Why would he care if his kin harmed her?
“Miss Woodburn.”
She looked at Steafan, still scowling. “If any harm comes to him—”
“Steafan,” Mr. Cameron scolded, quieting his beefy cousin.
Steafan would cause her the most trouble. She would have to think of a way to kill him quicker than poison.
“Will ye no’ put Steafan’s worries to rest?” Jamie asked, still smiling. “Assure him ye willna harm Logan.”
“Of course,” she did as he suggested, bowing her head. “Nae harm will come to Mr. Cameron by my hand.”
“There, Steafan, ye see?” the angelic warrior said, sunlit curls tossed around his forehead by the breeze.
Steafan nodded, a little reluctantly, then seemed to forget about her.
