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‘Lyall,’
‘I said not now, Cormac.’
Lyall made his way over to stand by the fireplace, next to Giselle. She looked up at him, blue eyes soft and questioning. They stood there, shoulder to shoulder, in silence. The bitterness in his heart towards the English receded, and calm settled over him as he soaked up her presence. It was good to be close to her. Christ, she was lovely, the sort of loveliness that defeated the stoutest of hearts and brought the strongest of men to their knees. Lyall suddenly found himself at a loss for what to say.
‘I think that Owen is quite taken with your sister,’ she said, breaking the silence abruptly.
‘Then he is a fool. To Morna, he is merely a whetstone on which she sharpens her powers of seduction.’
‘Oh, I thought she liked him.’
‘She likes him well enough, but he is an amusement, that is all.’
‘She is just playing with him then?’ she said.
Was she talking about Morna, or was it a barb at him?
‘I don’t know, for women’s hearts are a mystery to me.’
‘Is she not happy here at Beharra?’
‘She longs to be away from here, having adventures.’
‘You pay a high price for adventure,’ Giselle replied sadly.
‘Aye, you do,’ he said. ‘Cormac and I keep urging her to find a husband, a good man, who will offer her protection.’
‘If it is protection she wants, she should stay away from men. Lyall, that one over there, why has he come?’
‘Owen? He is my friend, and he is harmless, well, unless you are an English soldier that is. He is visiting his family further north and stopped here to break the journey. He has been at Stirling Castle these last weeks, and has news to pass on.’
She blanched. Was she thinking of Banan at Stirling?
‘Lyall, he knows what happened at Wulversmeade. He knows how you fought over me. He must assume that we…what I mean is, we were alone together all night. What must he think of me?’
‘Do you care what he thinks of you?’
‘Yes,’ she hissed.
‘Well, don’t fash yourself. Owen trusts my word, and I told him I would behave myself, and so I did, though, looking at you now, I don’t know how I managed it.’
He reached out and entwined his fingers in hers with the briefest of touches. It was a gesture meant to comfort her but it was as though his hand burst into flames.
Giselle’s face reddened, and she locked eyes with him, questioning, uncertain, fearful. Those eyes of hers were as wide as the ocean, bright with unshed tears. Giselle was frightened of him. She was miles from home and amongst strangers. He should be thinking only of easing her burden. So why was he thinking of something else entirely, of leading her into sin? Did he imagine a kind of yearning in her eyes, or did he delude himself that his attentions were welcome because of the lust burning in his belly.
‘Giselle, Cormac would skin me alive for saying this. Meet me later, outside the keep, so that we can talk properly. I would come to your chamber, but Cormac is close by, and he will be vigilant, now Owen is showing interest in Morna. He has ears like a bat, my brother.’
‘No, I can’t. Your family already think the worst of me, I am sure of it.’
‘To hell with them. Come to me. I will not punish you for it. Giselle, I can’t stop thinking about you. Risk it, please, for my sake? There are words I have to say.’
He heard the scrape of a chair. Owen was on his feet and staring at them intently.
‘Meet me in the stables at midnight,’ said Lyall. ‘I will wait all night if I have to.’
Giselle glanced over at the others and back to him.
‘Say yes,’ he hissed.
