She certainly didn’t expect that reply and gave him a puzzled look.
“I follow orders, Miss Woodburn,” he explained as if hearing her unspoken thoughts. “I dinna ask questions.”
“Well, Mr. Cameron,” she said in earnest, “mayhap ye should.”
He stared down at her as if he were actually considering it, but then he chuckled as if her suggestion were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
He kept walking and didn’t pause again until they reached the house.
“Who lives there?” She pointed to the bigger house.
“My parents,” he let her know.
“Do they live here or at the castle?”
“Both. Dinna fret,” he went on when she remained quiet. “I will make certain ye are gone before they come.”
She could understand him being too wary of her and her hatred of Camerons to allow a meeting, but why did she feel as if he had just insulted her? “Ye have my thanks,” she retorted. “The less of yer kin I meet, the better.”
He shot her a dark, impatient look but kept walking to his house.
“What do ye intend to do with me?” she asked, trying to speak with some confidence in her tone, but she was hungry and worried what her enemy’s plans were.
“I havena yet decided,” he let her know. “Fer now, we will eat.”
“Hand that hare over to me,” she said, holding out her hand to take it. “I will prepare it.”
His slow glance made her feel bare and exposed. She almost stumbled over her own foot.
He dropped the hare and reached around to steady her with his right hand.
“I am fine,” she let him know coolly and pulled away from his touch.
He didn’t seem to take offense but bent to pick up the hare and then continued on.
“Miss Woodburn, as I was readyin’ to say, ye either enjoy cookin’ or ye are plannin’ to poison me.”
She fought with every ounce of strength she possessed not to stumble again. He could not possibly know. How could he?She laughed to demonstrate what she thought of his ridiculous assumption.
“I would never kill ye with something as painless as poison.”
“Some poison can make a man twist and writhe on the floor until his insides leak out.”
She felt her blood drain from her face.
“Though ye are deserving of it, Mr. Cameron, I dinna care fer torture. Just to make it painful.”
He scoffed, mocking her. She felt her blood boil in her veins.
“Aye, I am deservin’ of it fer wantin’ to see ye one more time. I deserved bein’ beaten and chained up in a dungeon with no water while I bled out on the filthy floor, and when I woke up three weeks later, I couldna lift my arm. I deserved it all because yer kin perished instead of mine.”
That was all she would hear from him about her family! Gritting her teeth, she swung her arm around and brought it back, cracking her palm against his cheek.
She almost fainted at how good it felt. She had wanted to do it for so long.
He glared at her with his dark, unholy eyes. “That is the last time I will allow ye to put yer hand to me that way.”
Something in his tone, the way his gaze bore into hers, made her nod in agreement. Good as it felt, she wouldn’t risk her life by striking him again. Besides, now that she’d done it, the need to do it was gone.
