She glanced at the folly again, but it seemed empty. “Why are we out here?”
“I told ye. I have questions.”
“I answered your questions during the dance.”
“Yeevadedmy questions.” He shook his head again. “I am nae moonstruck by ye like Niall is, so I’ll nae believe your lies.”
“My lies? I—”
“Doona lie again. I grow weary of it.”
A different kind of uneasiness settled over her. She pulled Niall’s cloak tighter for comfort. “I don’t know what else I can tell you.”
“For starters, ye can tell me who ye really are and what ye are doing here.”
Chapter Seventeen
Niall stepped out of the council room just in time to see Simon and Charlotte leave the Great Hall. Where were they going and what the hell was Simon thinking of doing? Niall forced himself to keep to a walk rather than stomping after them. He was already angry that Fiona had managed to dupe him into entering the council room on the pretense that her father wanted to talk to him privately about keeping Charlotte at the office. Like an eejit, he’d believed her, only to find the room empty.
Once outside, he caught a glimpse of them rounding the corner toward the hedged garden. He frowned. He knew Simon didn’t believe her account of her past, but why would he be taking her there? Niall had never suspected that his brother had designs on her, although Simon had remarked on more than one occasion that she was quite bonnie. Maybe he thought he could lure her into the folly and seduce her to get the truth out of her. Or intimidate her into talking. He couldn’t let that happen.
Niall burst into a run.
****
Charlotte was thinking hard on how to respond to Simon’s question when she heard thundering footsteps and saw a flurry of movement rounding the corner of the castle.
“Je suis prêt!” a voice roared. “I am ready!”
A heavy thud followed the battle cry as Simon landed on the ground. In the scuffle that pursued, she heard growls and grunts and words in Gaelic that were no doubt curses as the men rolled over and over.
When the two finally disentangled themselves, she recognized Niall, although it took a moment. Everything about him was different. His stance was that of a Roman gladiator, feet wide apart, shoulders hunched, arms spread open. His hair was disheveled, sticking out wildly at all angles, and his eyes glinted like fire in the dim light. Rage rolled off him in waves. He looked like a wild beast…a Highlander unleashed.
Simon was bent over too, but mostly to catch his breath. He wiped his bloody nose as he straightened and glared at his brother. “Have ye gone daft?”
Niall didn’t answer him. Instead, he turned to her. “Are ye all right?”
Charlotte blinked. Niall had attacked his brother because of her? She couldn’t recall any man coming to her defense before, especially not in such a physical way.
Before she could answer, he swung his head around to Simon.
“If ye’ve hurt her, I willna be finished with ye.”
“I havena.” Simon took a wary step back and looked at Charlotte. “Tell him.”
Still somewhat flummoxed, she nodded. “I…I’m fine. Really.”
Niall didn’t look entirely convinced, but at least he’d unclenched his fists and relaxed his shoulders. “Tell me true. I’ll nae have ye besmirched.”
Besmirched? Niall was defending her honor? Sweet Lord in heaven! She wrote about gallant heroes who came to their lady’s defense, but she couldn’t have written a better scenario than the one that just happened. Maybe Niall didn’t have a white horse or shining armor, but she had just dubbed him her knight.
****
Her “knight” bore the remnants of last night’s skirmish the next morning when he appeared at breakfast. He had a welt on his forehead and the knuckles of both hands were scraped. Simon had fared worse. Both of his eyes were blackened, the one nearly shut, and he had a split lip along with a bruise on his jaw.
Greer looked from one of them to the other. “Was there trouble last night that I didna hear about?”
Simon shook his head quickly. “No.”
