“Aye, I think I do,” Eloise said, though her words were spoken with a slight tremble that made her blush.
“Good. Try again,” he said firmly. He stepped back away from her. Eloise could feel his warmth leave.
She took aim and threw it. This time, the knife struck the trunk, though off-center.
Eloise exhaled sharply, frustration evident, yet a flicker of satisfaction crossed her face.
“Better,” he said, stepping back.
She glanced at him, surprised. “Was that praise?” she asked.
“Daenae grow used to it,” he replied.
She huffed, though a faint smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
The light was fading when James finally called a halt, though Eloise still stood ready, breath unsteady but her stance unbroken.
“That’s enough,” he said, lowering his arm, though his gaze lingered on her with something closer to curiosity than command.
She shook her head, adjusting her grip on the knife. “Nae yet,” she replied, her voice strained but resolute.
“Where did ye learn all of this? It is clear to me this is nae yer first time doing such things.” he asked.
She hesitated, then answered, “Me father saw to it I wasnae helpless, sword, knife, axe… all of it. He had nay sons so he treated me as one when I was young.”
James’s brow furrowed slightly. “That’s nae common for a lass,” he said.
“I wasnae raised to be common,” she returned, lifting her chin.
He let out a slow breath, nodding once.
“Aye… I see that now.” He said.
Then a shout echoed faintly from the direction of the castle, sharp and urgent, and James’s head snapped toward it, his expression hardening at once.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A messenger has arrived. Let's return at once,” he said.
CHAPTER SIX
Eloise’s steps slowed as she followed James into the great hall, her unease rising with every pace. The room felt colder than before, heavier, and her gaze found the lone figure waiting near the center.
“Andrew…” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper as recognition struck.
The messenger turned at once, relief washing over his face as he stepped forward. “Miss Eloise,” he said, bowing his head quickly, “I was sent to see ye with me own eyes and deliver a message.”
James moved ahead of her then, placing himself firmly between them, his presence commanding. “State yer business,” he said coolly.
Andrew straightened, glancing between them before answering, “I carry word from Mr. Alastair Whitmore, me Laird.”
James extended his hand without hesitation. “Then give it here,” he said, his tone leaving no room for delay.
Andrew passed over the sealed letter, though his gaze flicked once more to Eloise. “I was also to ensure the lady has nae come to harm,” he added carefully.
James broke the seal with deliberate calm. “As ye can plainly see,” he replied, glancing briefly toward Eloise, “the lady is nae harmed.”
Eloise stepped forward then, her voice steady despite the tension twisting within her. “I am here of me own will, Andrew,” she said, meeting his eyes.
