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“Do tell,” he said in a tone that was low enough that the whole room could not hear but not so hushed that everyone at the table did not lean forward to listen. Serene found herself leaning forward, as well, unsure what he was going to say or why he would boldly lie to his king for her. She was both terrified and so grateful that she wanted to weep.
“She recalled that she had been taken by force from land near her home,” he said smoothly.
Serene felt her lips part, but she immediately pressed them shut and looked down at her hands. She feared she would give away his falsehood, and she would rather cut out her tongue than betray this man who had just deceived his king for her.
“What else do ye remember, my lady?” the king demanded in a harsh voice that made her twitch.
Slowly, she looked up and met the king’s probing gaze. Her blood roared in her ears as she licked her lips and swallowed hard. “Nae anything else, I’m afraid, Sire.”
His eyes narrowed, and he offered a tilt of his head. “I’m certain if ye are now recalling things, ye will soon remember more that will help Cameron in his search for my Katherine’s killers.”
She wiped her suddenly sweaty palms against her skirts. “Aye, Sire,” she started, but had to clear a catch in her throat. “I’m certain I will recall more that shall shed light.” Pray God it would prove innocence when she did finally remember.
The king strolled over to her and motioned for her to stand. She did so on trembling legs. He quirked his finger in commandment for her to come to him. She took a deep breath to quell her quaking nerves as she walked to the king. When he gripped her by the chin, she bit her lip on her cry of protest. His grip was not punishing but firm, and seemed to hint that punishment would come if she were to move.
Behind the king, Cameron tensed, and his hands curl into fists by his side. Suddenly his brothers Iain and Lachlan were flanking him. Her attention was diverted back to the king when he turned her face sharply to the left, then the right.
He smiled, the brittleness increasing her fears. “I’m pleased to hear it is unlikely that ye are a traitor,” he offered, turning her face directly to his. “I’ve designs for ye, my lady, but first…” He squeezed her chin with such force that she winced. The king shifted, and she could once again see Cameron. Both his brothers had a hand on each of his arms. The king released her as suddenly as he’d grabbed her, and she rubbed her aching chin. “First, I think it wise if ye go with Cameron on his search for Katherine’s killers.”
Relief at the king’s proclamation nearly sent her to her knees. She did not want to be left at Dunvegan Castle without Cameron. She looked to him, afraid he’d argue that she’d slow him down in his quest, but he was already striding toward the king.
“An excellent idea, Sire,” Cameron replied. “I can use any information Serene may recall.”
The king’s mouth twisted into a smug smile. “Just be sure to keep her unscathed,” he drawled, raking his gaze over her so she had to back up a step. “I want her returned just as lovely appearing as she is now, to use as I see fit.”
Serene shuddered inwardly at what the king was implying. She yearned to flee the great hall and keep running, but she had no notion where she would even go.
With those ominous words, the king turned toward the silent great hall, held up his hands, and announced, “I’m away to my home in a short while. Let us finish breaking our fast before my departure.” The hall once again erupted into chatter as the king strode back to the dais.
Serene stood face-to-face with Cameron, her heart racing as he stared into her eyes.
“Brother,” Iain said, coming up behind Cameron. He studied Serene before he spoke once more. “Come back to the dais and break yer fast. We will discuss Serene and what’s to be done after the king has departed.”
She stilled, wishing fervently that Cameron would not leave her once more, and when he shook his head, she could not hold back the exhalation of relief that he planned, perchance to keep her near. His eyes widened, and wariness flickered within them. “I’ll be down to the loch for the king’s departure, but I’ve nae an appetite for food.”
“As ye wish,” Iain replied, though he looked anything but happy about relenting.
He passed by her, as did Lachlan, both of them seeming guarded, as if she could somehow harm them. She didn’t have time to question it as Cameron stepped closer and took her by the elbow. His fingers curled tightly around her arm, and he started to pull her closer when a startled look crossed his face. He dropped her elbow as though it burned him. She swallowed. He hadn’t meant to touch her. She knew it was unreasonable to be bothered by it, but it was like he had taken a chunk of her pride and smashed it with his fists.
His eyes had an almost hungry look as he stared at her. “Try nae to cause any more trouble as ye break yer fast.”
She flinched at his words as disappointment that he had every intention of leaving her filled her chest. She clenched her teeth at her continued foolishness. Given the way he was acting toward her, it was obvious that, despite his earlier words, the man detested her. Embarrassment mingled with sorrow and confusion. She shouldn’t care. She didn’t even know him, not really; the little she remembered of him was all she knew. But whether she should or not, the simple fact was that she did care.
She forced out a steady response. “I did nae cause the trouble,” she said, frustrated that her voice was not as strong as she had liked. Devil take it, she sounded weary, defeated, almost wounded. “Yer clan hates me,” she whispered furiously so only he could hear, though as the words left her mouth she could have kicked herself. Now she sounded wounded and like a weepy child. She vowed in that moment not to say anything else that would make her seem weak or foolish.
He looked as if he was about to argue, but then he clamped his jaw shut and raked a hand through his hair, making her wonder what it would feel like to run her fingers through his thick locks. How appalling! Apparently she was weakandwicked.
“Dunnae move,” he growled.
She nodded, and he strode purposely around her toward Cormac. His eyes widened at Cameron’s approach. She noted with self-satisfaction, which was likely sinful, that the man was not so full of bluster now.
“My lord,” he began, but Cameron interrupted him by holding his palm up. The man fell silent, and when Cameron leaned over him to talk—she supposed so no one else would hear—all the color leeched from Cormac’s face. When Cameron stood up straight again, the other warrior slunk low in his chair, hunching his shoulders and casting his gaze down. The men around him jeered openly at him, calling him a clot-heid.
Though the young warrior had made her angry, her heart ached for him, and she felt a twinge of familiarity, as if she too had been humiliated before. Cormac’s gaze darted to her for a moment, and she vowed she saw remorse there, but he turned his eyes quickly down before she could offer an understanding smile.
Cameron grabbed two hunks of bread, cheese, and a carafe of wine before striding back to her. “Come,” he said gruffly, making her certain he didn’t really want her to but that he felt he must offer.
“Ye dunnae have to snap at me,” she grumbled.
