Ian glared at him. "An explanation.Now.Or I'll cut ye down here and now."
Morag's heartseemed to stop as she watched Murdoch calm the horse as though the world was unfolding in slow motion before her. She was captivated by the contrast in his forcefulness with Ian compared to the gentle way he spoke to the horse and the calmness with which he soothed the creature.
Morag had never liked horses much, and indeed she had dismissed them when her jealousy over Elsie had consumed her back at Murray Castle, but something in this moment had her spellbound. The wild-eyed horse was oddly beautiful, and when Murdoch whispered to it, Morag saw for the first time what the Kincaids seemed to see: the nobleness, the power, and thehumanityhidden behind those dark animal eyes.
As Murdoch's expression changed to relief as the horse calmed, Morag's chest relaxed, her heart soothing though still, inexplicably, shuddering with an ache she'd never experienced.
When Ian barked out his threat, Morag knew that she needed to act. She didn't have time to stop or think, not when he was looking at Murdoch like that. As she started forward, though, Mary grabbed her hand.
"Miss, where are ye goin'?" Mary hissed. "Ye'll get yerself intae trouble. Please, stay here."
Morag hesitated. Her maid and friend was right, but it didn't stop the urge in her every nerve screaming at her to move. Ian's tone and expression were murderous, and she could not stand by and allow Murdoch to be hurt. Brother or not, there was no way that Ian would let such blatant public defiance and violence against himself as the heir go unpunished.
She pulled her hand away from Mary. "I ken what I'm doin'," she lied.
Mary gave her a fearful look but did not try to stop her again. Morag brushed through the crowd, nudging past the whisperers and gawkers, and didn't stop until she could wrap her hands around Ian's arm. He blinked in surprise and looked down at her, and though she'd heard him protest his disinterest, she saw his irises contract at her touch.
She was used to men looking at her in that way—not with interest in who she was, but in what she brought with her face, her hair, her body. She'd seen Murdoch looking, too, though she'd pretended not to notice, but his gaze was different. When he had looked at her in the courtyard the night before, he had seemed to see all of her—yes, her beauty, but also her mind and spirit.
The contrast between that memory and the current sight of how Ian was staring hungrily at her made Morag's stomachtighten and filled her with confusing, conflicting emotions she did not have the time or even the inclination to identify.
"Lass, return tae yer place," Ian warned her, his voice low and dangerous as he addressed her.
"Forgive me, Master Campbell, but I dinnae want tae sit by and allow ye tae suffer a loss," she said, her tone conciliatory and her words carefully chosen to make sure he did not think she was criticizing him in any way.
"Consider the beast. It is injured, but it isnae an injury that willnae heal with some rest and care. Look how fine the creature is. It could be too useful tae us, tae yer father, taeyetae allow it tae be wasted. Consider how we could harness its fine strength if it can be taught tae obey."
Ian's brow furrowed. He looked back and forth between Morag on his arm and Murdoch with the horse, calculation clearly rushing across his face. She saw that he could see the sense in her words, but she also saw his anger warring with that knowledge.
Morag knew she needed to use her advantage while she had it. She leaned in, tightening her fingers around his arm and pressing closer against his side. It only served to contrast more harshly with the warmth of leaning against Murdoch, but she tried to ignore that, especially when she heard Ian's sharp intake of breath.
"Think how strong it is. How powerful, how majestic, and how bonny. And think of where itcamefrom. That's a Kincaid horse, I've nae doubt about it. How strong would we seem chargin' intae battle on the back of one of their own steeds?" Morag insisted. "And when we have won, think how much anyone will pay for such a valuable creature. It would be madness tae take that away from yerself."
Ian grunted, then he gave a stiff nod. Morag stepped back, loosening her grip on him and trying not to notice the way hiseyes lingered on her for a moment before he stormed over to the horse. Morag could feel Murdoch staring at her too, and the strange guilt rumbling in her stomach at the display made so little sense that she was almost angry. She had defended him. Why did she feel like she'd somehow upset him in the process?
Ian led the horse away, and slowly, the crowd dispersed. Murdoch, after a moment, followed his brother away, and Morag determinedly did not look toward him. When there were only a few people remaining in the courtyard, Mary hurried over to her.
"Miss, what have ye done?" Mary asked anxiously.
"Me father wished for me taebefriendIan. I have done so," Morag replied. She had thought it had been a very good cover-up.
But Mary shook her head, glancing anxiously over her shoulder. Morag followed her friend's gaze, and the base of her stomach dropped away as she saw her father marching over to her.
"It didnae look like that. It didnae look like that at all," Mary whispered.
Laird Caindach reached them after a moment, his face drawn with anger. "Why do ye insist on embarrassin' me?" he demanded in a low hiss. "Explain yer behavior. Why would ye defend that traitor?"
Morag bristled. How could Murdoch be a traitor when he clearly had no loyalty to the Campbells to begin with? She paused, horrified by her own thought and how much danger she would have been in if she had voiced it.
She took a second to collect herself and then she calmly replied, "I am doin' what I think I must tae please ye, Father. Me behavior was threefold. One, Murdoch Campbell now thinks I am fully on his side. If I have his trust, it will be much easier tae fully prove that he is a spy. Two, ye asked that I grow closer taeIan. I flirted with him, and I drew his interest, just as ye wished. And three, the horsewillbe of value tae Laird Campbell."
Caindach stared at her for a moment, then scoffed. "Ye speak well. But take care, daughter. Ye're playin' a dangerous game."
Morag bowed her head and hoped that nobody could hear how loudly her heart was thumping in her chest. Yes, things were getting treacherous. But this was no game. And her father had no idea how dangerous her heart and mind really were.
CHAPTER TEN
Murdoch's agitation when Morag arrived at the secret courtyard was so intense that it filled the world around him. The air was thick with it as Morag moved to pick up her training sword, and as Murdoch paced back and forth, restless and obviously frustrated, she could feel his anxiety seeping into her own skin.
