Chapter Eight
Cyrus's deep and intimate voice disturbed Elspeth, and his dark eyes appeared even more serious than usual.
Her staff, not trustworthy? She frowned and glanced around at them. Did he suspect them of participating in the theft or other malicious deeds? "In truth?"
He nodded.
"Very well. We can talk in the study." Taking a single candle in a small iron holder, she led the way along the narrow corridor toward the study where she did her bookkeeping and correspondence. 'Twas usually cozy, but at the moment, the hearth was not in use because she'd been away. She shuddered at the cool air, or maybe 'twas the chilling situation of not knowing who to trust. Once he'd entered, she closed the door.
Cyrus glanced over the maps and tapestries on the walls, then the cabinets, desk, and chairs. "Is this room secure, or can someone listen in?"
Anxiety prickled at the back of her neck. "'Tis secure, as far as I know." She was fairly certain she'd explored every nook and cranny of this house.
"I must find out what happened to your guards before I return to Castle Rebbinglen." His determined eyes held steady upon hers.
Elspeth placed the candleholder on the table. "I would never wish to impose upon your time. 'Tis not your responsibility."
"You're a vulnerable woman alone, without a man to protect you."
She scrutinized him, trying to detect if he wished to be herprotectorthe way Dalacroy had been. Surely not, since Cyrus was most interested in wedding Lily. And yet, something in his eyes pulled at her… a spark of interest or instinctive awareness.
She broke eye contact. Regardless of how attractive she found him, she had many reasons to stay far away from him. She certainly didn't want the most forceful man she'd ever met bossing her around and taking possession of her properties. As an independent woman, she'd made a good life for herself and her family. She intended to keep it that way.
'Twas true with her guards gone, she had far less protection than before, but she had several male staff members. "Morrison is a man."
A short laugh burst from Cyrus's mouth, but he quickly sobered. "Forgive me, but he is no guard."
Well, he was right, of course. But did he have to show outright disdain for her steward? Morrison might not be tall and brawny, but he was efficient at running her household.
She thought of another staff member. "Burns, the groom. He's a robust man."
Cyrus snorted. "You must be jesting."
"Why do you insist on insulting my staff? And why do you wish to help awoman alone, as you phrased it?"
"I'm not insulting your staff." His defensive tone was grumpier than ever. "You cannot expect a steward or a groom to be a guard. 'Tis not what they're trained for. As for why I'm helping you… I'm a man with honor, a Highlander and a chief. That means something. I don't abandon the weak and helpless."
"I am not weak or helpless!" She met his glare head-on. His overbearing nature was too much.
He smirked. "I cannot imagine you putting on metal-studded leather armor and fighting with a sword to defend what is yours. Are you capable of that?"
Annoyance twisted inside her, for she knew he was right, but she would not give in. "Nay, but I'm not helpless. I could stab you with a dagger before you could blink."
"Indeed?" He raised a brow, his gaze growing amused, but also intrigued. "I dare you."
Her threat was an innocuous one and he knew it. Now, the tyrant was ridiculing her. She narrowed her eyes. "If I were going to do such a thing, I would not warn you beforehand."
"Do you have a dagger on your person right now?"
"Of course. Why would I mention it otherwise?"
Suppressing a grin, he glanced down over her body. Was he trying to figure out where the blade was hidden, or was he entertaining lewd thoughts? Heated awareness washed over her. Though his domineering attitude vexed her, she found the hint of amusement lurking in his midnight eyes captivating.
"Tell me of your enemies," he urged. "Who have you tried to stab in the past?"
Was he teasing or mocking her? She could not figure him out. "No one. I have no enemies."
He took the candle she'd placed on the table and lit the kindling already laid in the hearth. "Have you been paying your guards?"
