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Their eyes met and the fog around Fiona abruptly vanished. Something in his expression made the hair on the nape of her neck stand up. He was gazing at her as though she were a tray of sweetmeats and he a hungry, greedy boy just waiting to reach in and stuff his mouth full.
He drew closer, his gaze intent on her lips.Oh, no.She cast a helpless look about, seeking a way to distract him. A swatch of color fluttering above caught her eye.
“Are those your clan colors?” Fiona inquired loudly, pointing to the banner that hung above their heads.
“What?”
“The tartan. Many clans have a distinctive tartan, do they not? And a motto. Tell me, my lord, what is your clan motto?”
“My motto?”
“Ah, I see it now, stitched in the banner.Invictus Maneo. I remain unvanquished.Is that correct? My Latin is far from perfect as I have only recently begun to learn to read and cypher.”
The earl regarded her with a look of perplexed annoyance, stretching thin the faint scar that slashed across his left temple. Oddly, it gave his handsome face a more approachable appearance. Fiona’s nerves began to settle. Her chattering had succeeded in breaking the intimate mood, had lessened the hungry look in his eye. For now.
“Ye’ve a solid knowledge of the language if ye can read it,” he said. “A most unusual skill fer a female.”
“A woman alone has need of all sorts of skills, my lord.”
“Yer no longer alone.” His gaze grew possessive as it meandered over the length of her body. “I remain unvanquishedis not just our motto, but the creed the McLendons live by. Ye’ll do well to remember that, milady.” He turned away. “Hamish!”
A stocky man with thinning gray hair arrived so quickly Fiona wondered where the servant had been waiting. Close enough to hear the entire exchange? Most likely.
Fiona closed her eyes in mortification, but then chastised herself for being so foolish. There were few secrets kept in a castle, especially concerning the lord of the manor. By the time the evening meal was served, news of the earl’s new English mistress would have spread far and wide.
“Hamish is steward here,” the earl explained. “He’ll see that ye are settled.”
“Hamish.” Fiona attempted a friendly smile. The steward cocked his head and stared at her curiously.
“Lady Fiona is to be our guest,” the earl announced.
“Have the chamber next to mine prepared at once.”
The corners of the servant’s mouth turned down. “Will the lady be with us long?”
Fiona’s pride bristled as her cheeks heated. She had hardly been a welcomed guest at her brother’s keep, but at least she had been spared any open scorn by his servants. It hurt to be so quickly judged, yet if she was going to live here, she’d have to find a way to endure.
The earl’s expression hardened. “I expect ye to see to her every comfort, Hamish. Is that understood?”
“Aye.”
The servant drew himself up. Understood perhaps, but obviously not agreed upon. While Fiona was glad the earl attempted to save her dignity by giving her a chamber of her own, he would not be able to force his people to show her respect.
“What will become of the men who accompanied me here?” she asked when Hamish departed.
“They will be told that ye and yer son are remaining here, as my honored guests.”
“Sir George will want to hear the news directly from my lips.”
To her surprise, the earl nodded approvingly. “Any soldier worth his salt would do the same.” The earl cast her a mischievous grin she found so out of character, she nearly missed hearing his next question. “Do ye wish to write Sir George a note? I can send fer parchment and a quill?”
Fiona smiled. “I would gladly compose a missive, but alas Sir George cannot read. In any event, I owe him the courtesy of releasing him from my service.” Fiona paused as a new thought struck. “Unless you would consider allowing him to stay? He is a landless knight with great skill and experience and a credit to any lord he serves.”
The earl grimaced. “My allies will tolerate a great deal, but I doubt they will understand the presence of an English knight in my garrison.”
“Better in your garrison than fighting outside your walls.”
“It will take more than a few of King Edward’s puny knights to breach my walls. He learned that well enough last year.”
