He snorted to cover his surprise. “I’m notinthe castle, now, am I, little one?” It was answer enough and all that she would get from him.
Any sign of her smile retreated behind the hard mask of a warrior. “Perhaps you’d like to explain to me why the MacDowylt still lives. Why did you allow him to escape, when you assured me that if I went quietly with the Tinklers and left it all to you, you yerself would deal with the man.”
As if she thought her staying behind wouldn’t have made everything twice as difficult as it had been. His work in seeing to the safety of Chase Noble had been fully cut out for him. Still, she deserved an explanation for what was clearly his failure.
“The Beast now possesses what was Torquil MacDowylt. You must have recognized that much for yourself. The Beast can only be killed using the Sword of the Ancients, which has gone missing.”
For a moment her mask slipped, and one hand fluttered up to cling to her throat.
“Would that be the sword I saw in Torquil’s tower?”
“One and the same.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “If it’s gone missing, I’d lay wager it’s that damned greedy Hugo MacFalny what has it. He and his brother Mathew snuck off on our first night away from Tordenet. Once we discovered them gone, the Tinklers thought it best we seek protection for a few days at a place they called Rowan Cottage. Just in case the thieving minstrel should try to lead the MacDowylt laird back to us.”
So that was where they’d been. Holed up with Orabilis. He’d assumed the old woman was nothing more dangerous than a witch, but she was obviously much more powerful than that if the Tinklers sought shelter under her roof.
“You’d lose that wager,” he said at last, remembering the minstrel’s fate all too well. “Hugo had a rather messy run-in with the Beast. His thieving days are a thing of the past now.”
A shiver shook Bridget’s body, a sure sign that she understood the implication of his words.
“And the brother?” she asked quietly. “Mathew’s but a boy.”
“No sign of him. So, as he’s our most likely candidate to have disappeared with the treasures, it’s him I’m off to find now.”
And he hoped he could find the lad before the Beast did. For Mathew’s sake as well as for theirs.
Bridget nodded her agreement, lifting an arm to him. “That’s a wise plan. Help me up. I’m coming with you.”
Like hell she was. The task ahead of him was daunting enough without his having to watch over a woman. Especially a woman who thought she could take care of herself. They were the most dangerous kind of all.
“You’ll do no such thing. You’ll continue on with the Tinklers to Castle MacGahan. I’m sending Eric along with you to make sure of that.”
Her hands fisted once again on her hips. “You canna think I’ll sit back and let you do this on yer own, big man. You failed me the last time. I’ll no be shuffled off to safety again.”
“You will, and that’s the end of it. And don’t even think,” he cautioned as she started to protest, “to give Eric any trouble. The poor man has a new bride waiting at home for him, and he wants nothing more than to get back to her. Now go on with you, and do as you’re told.”
“Do as I’m...” She sputtered to a stop, her eyes wide with indignation. “You must listen to me. There are things I can tell you—”
“Enough!” Hall interrupted. “I’ve listened all I care to. My mind will not be changed.”
He turned his horse and headed off at a canter, anxious to get on with his quest. Anxious to put distance between himself and the angry woman behind him.
“You canna leave without me!” she yelled after him. “I willna be treated like some delicate flower!”
What possessed him then, he had no idea. But he drew up on his reins and turned his mount back toward her. The satisfied smile on her face when he reached her side this time was everything he’d expected when he first arrived.
She lifted an arm up to him but he pushed it aside to lean down and wrap his hand in the silky length of her braid. In a single move, he pulled her close and fastened his lips over hers.
Coming to his senses, he broke the kiss and pulled away. Bridget stood, full lips parted, eyes closed, her face tilted up to him as if captured by some magic spell.
Magic he quickly dispelled. “Just this one time, Bridget MacCulloch, try to do as you’re told without a blighted argument. And, for the record, there’s little chance of your being mistaken for a delicate anything.”
Her angry screech reverberated in his ears as he rode away.
“I’ll no forget this, Halldor O’Donar!” Bridget called. “I’ll no be forgetting you, you great bristly-faced ogre!”
With the feel of her burning on his lips, it wasn’t likely he’d be forgetting her anytime soon, either.
