"I knew it."
"What of it? I lead no one. I'm an outlaw, nothing more," he said in a hard tone, shoving away the sentiment.
"Wrong."
He eyed her, taking in her slight smile, wondering what she meant.
"Can you not see? You are your father's heir. You give them hope."
"They are only fooling themselves. If the people of my clan are children of the mist, I'm naught but a ghost."
She shrugged. "Whatever gives hope."
He needed to remove the focus from himself. He could not think about the destruction of his clan overlong. The disappointment, the overwhelming defeat could consume him. Nay, he wanted Mairiana to take his mind off it. He'd never felt more alive than when he was verbally sparring with her. What could he say to vex her?
"What about you?" he asked. "Only moments ago you were hopeless, already an old spinster with one foot in the grave."
She bristled. "Do not mock me. Alec broke my heart."
"Good lord," Darack scoffed, knowing she hated it when he made light of her feelings for Alec. She had to realize her former betrothed was lower than an adder in the grass.
"What?" Mairiana demanded. "Do you think me overdramatic?"
Glad to see her fury roar to life, he smiled internally. He loved getting her riled. And he liked her anger far better than her tears. "Aye. 'Tis typical of spoiled ladies."
When she picked up the fire poker, he drew back a wee bit. Could the lady have a streak of violence?
"I have half a mind to hurtle this at your head, to knock some sense into it," she said. But he could easily tell she would never do that.
A brief, genuine laugh escaped him before he could prevent it. He had not laughed in so long, it brought him up short. "You're a piece of work, I have to say."
She gave an unladylike snort, surprising him and making him want to laugh all the more. "You ken well how to flatter and charm a lady," she muttered.
"Most would agree with you."
"Spare me. 'Tis obvious you're a libertine, although I can't fathom how, given your utter pigheadedness."
He chuckled again. What the devil was wrong with him? Why did he find her insults so amusing? He'd had no idea she could be so blunt and have such a dry wit.
"What? You're smiling at me now?" she asked.
He forced his smile away. "Only because you're being so ridiculous. Silly lass."
"I am no silly lass!"
He clenched his jaw, lest another laugh slip out. Damnation, but she was entertaining. "What are you then? An experienced, jaded woman?"
Her eyes narrowed in that way which reminded him of green cat eyes, so cunning. Would she pounce on him? Bite him? Lick him as if he were cream in a bowl? The very thought made him instantly hard.
Saints!
Indeed, he'd found her beautiful since the first moment he'd seen her, but he had never thought to feel this ruthless punch of arousal, nor the wild desire which clawed its way through him. Of course, when she'd been sitting on his lap, lust had slowly curled its way through him, but 'twas not as intense as what he felt now. He'd always seen her as far above his station. A fancy lady, coddled and pampered, sister of a wealthy chief, part of a clan who didn't have to hide out and skulk about like wolves, being hunted to extinction.
Nay, she was a lady of privilege, while he possessed little more than the clothing on his back and his weapons—no property or titles. Although, back home, he had a horse and Ewan paid him a good wage for his assignments and duties. Still, the small cadet branch of the Grant clan, of which he considered himself a member, had to struggle to keep the cattle they possessed, because the neighboring clan kept stealing them. He and his clansmen were labeled cattle thieves, even though it was their own cattle they were reclaiming. 'Twas enough to drive good men to violence.
"'Tis none of your business," Mairiana blurted.
Darack gave her a blank look. Could the man not pay attention? Where had he been off to, woolgathering? He'd asked her if she was a jaded woman, which to her sounded the same as jezebel.
