Page 9

“Yes, who was that again?” Emma asked, sipping her wine.

Trevor raised his mug to his lips and allowed himself a small smile. It was cute of Emma to attempt to play a game at which he was a master, and he was willing to entertain her for a little while, at least. After all, he had the time to kill, and it might lead him to the knowledge he sought.

“As far as I’m aware, her name is Lyndsay Smythe, although she may have changed her name due to marriage. I don’t suppose you’d happen to know anyone like that?”

“I can’t say that I dae.”

“Hmm… It’s interesting, really, because that’s the same kind of response I’ve been getting from most people around here.”

“Perhaps ye hae the wrong village.”

“Perhaps I have,” Trevor conceded, “or perhaps people are hiding her away.”

“And why would they want tae dae that? Is she wanted for a crime?”

“I cannot say.”

The skin between Emma’s eyes crinkled as she frowned. “Perhaps people here are wary of strangers asking questions, especially strangers from England.”

“And here I was hoping that we could enjoy a more open relationship. I can assure you that I mean no harm to her. In fact, I’m sure she would be quite interested in what I have to say.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Now Emma, even out here you should know that I can’t share that knowledge with you. I have a responsibility to Lyndsay to keep it confidential between us. But if I do have the wrong village then perhaps I should take my leave tomorrow and continue on my travels. The sooner I find her, the better it will be.”

He heard a loud cry of dismay and looked at the man who had lost again. Pain and despair were etched upon his face. He searched his pockets for more coins, but they were all empty. The cards were gathered and kept from him. He sighed as he skulked out of the bar. This would have been the opportune time for Trevor to strike. It would have been so easy to sidle up beside the man and offer him the chance of one more hand of cards, claiming that it was going to be the hand that would make the difference to his life, and all he needed to do was tell Trevor what he wanted to know.

But that would mean leaving Emma, and he wasn’t prepared to do that just yet.

He let the man pass across his field of vision and then returned to gaze at Emma's eyes.

“You know, the only information I have is that she has blonde hair. When I arrived in the Highlands, I thought it was going to be a simple task to find her because there are so few women with hair that color, and yet here you are.”

“Maybe it’s more common than ye think,” Emma said, leaning back in a defensive manner.

“Or maybe…” Trevor said, about to share his thoughts with her and challenge her denials when a flicker of movement caught his attention.

“Well, well, ye decided tae join us taenight?” a man said, staggering up to the table. His eyes were glazed, and there was a slight slur to his speech, suggesting that he had been preparing for the festival a little too well. Trevor noticed how Emma immediately went rigid with tension, and a shadow fell across her face.

“I’m nae joining ye, David,” she said.

“I can see that.” There was an edge to his words that Trevor didn’t like the sound of. “And who is yer friend? Is this the Englishman I’ve heard about?”

Emma gave him a meaningful look, although David didn’t seem to be paying attention. He turned and glared at Trevor.

“Ye know ye are nae welcome here,” he said.

Trevor shrugged. “I seem to have been welcome so far, and I’m only passing through. Once my business is concluded, I will be on my way.”

“Ah yes, yer business,” David said. “Ye are looking for an Englishwoman, aye? A Lyndsay Smythe?”

“I am indeed,” Trevor said.

Emma’s face was white as snow. “Ye should leave us be, David,” she warned, although David wasn’t paying any attention to her. He threw his head back and laughed loudly, holding his sides. His beer spilled over the edge of his mug and splattered on the floor of the tavern, and tears poured from his eyes. Trevor wasn’t sure what was so funny, but he didn’t like being the butt of the joke, and he didn’t much like the way David was acting toward Emma either.

David draped an arm around Emma and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Oh lass, ye are a cruel one. Anyway, ye should know better than tae sit with another man.” David looked straight at Trevor. “Emma and I are gaeing tae be married by Beltane Day, so dinnae get any ideas. I know what ye English are like, thinking ye can come up here and charm our women. Well, it’s nae gaeing tae work. She’s mine, sae keep yer hands tae yerself.”

Trevor was taken aback by the harshness of his words and the speed at which his mood had turned. The laughter had faded and was replaced by a grim sharpness. His eyes were as hard as flint, and Trevor knew that he was in trouble. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, but it wasn’t what he wanted at this present moment. He had been enjoying a pleasant time with Emma and was sorry that it had to end.