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“How dare you talk to me that way! You don’t even know me.”
He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and turned his horse to face her. “I know that you need to go back to the castle where there are men to protect you from people like me.”
“I don’t need a man. I can protect myself.”
“Can you, now? I suppose that was what you were doing with your eyes closed and your head tilted back, waiting for a kiss?” He nodded, looking smug as if he had proven his point. Then he took off toward the gate, managing to infuriate her even more by leaving in the middle of this conversation.
“I let you do that,” she called out after him. “I could have stopped you if I had so wanted.”
“Maira, who was that?” asked Willow, looking over her shoulder as the man left the garden. Morag led the way and Fia brought up the rear as they rode in a single line.
“I’d say by the looks of that sack of Imanie’s things over his shoulder that he’s a thief.” Fia was the cousin who could read people. She was also very observant and had the ability to tell by one’s actions or words things that others could not see.
“He was handsome,” said Willow, always liking the men.
“Ye are married now, Cousin,” said Morag. “Stop lookin’ at the men. Ye have one! Leave them for Maira and me.”
“I can still look but, honestly, I only have eyes for Conrad,” Willow assured her with a dreamy look upon her face. “I rather like being married.”
“Don’t leave them for me, because I’m not interested,” said Maira. “And Willow, you’ve only been married for a sennight. We’ll see if your eye starts to wander and if your opinion changes any time soon.”
“It won’t! I assure you. I’ve reformed from flirting with men,” Willow said with a smug nod. “I might still have to use my powers of persuasion on occasion since it is my duty as a member of the Followers of the Secret Heart. But if I do, it’ll only be a job and not for pleasure.”
“Well, don’t waste your skill on that man,” Maira told her, nodding toward the gate. “He is a man that none of us will ever want.” She reached over her shoulder and slid her sword into the leather scabbard that was attached with a harness to her back.
“Why would ye say that?” asked Morag, always wanting to know more.
“Because, like Fia said, he is a thief.” Maira walked over and rubbed the nose of her horse.
“Then perhaps we should go after him,” suggested Fia.
“Aye, we need to tell the earl,” added Willow.
“Don’t bother.” Maira shook her head “He’s not important. He’s naught but a petty thief in the night, stealing items from a dead woman. His actions here were stealing from the king, not the earl, since the secret garden is in the king’s royal forest. The earl cannot do a thing about it. Now, the reason I called you all here was because I’m sure you heard from Morag by now that my father has betrothed me.”
“I think that thief liked you,” said Willow, looking over to the gate where the stranger had already disappeared. Her thoughts focused on him instead of Maira. “You seemed to like him as well.”
“I agree,” answered Fia.”
“We fought, and I kneed him in the groin,” Maira pointed out. “I hardly think there was anything but animosity between us.”
“Nay, that’s no’ true,” said Fia with a shake of her head. “I could tell by both his and yer body actions that there was more to it than that.”
Maira cringed inwardly. Sometimes, her cousin Fia’s natural skill of being able to read people was invading. Maira didn’t like anyone peering into her mind. It was hard to keep a secret from Fia.
“When we entered the garden, it looked like you two were going to kiss,” Willow pointed out. “I could see your head tilted back and your eyes closed. And he had his hand on your chin.”
Dang, the seductive cousin of the bunch would have spotted that a league away.
“Stop it, all of you,” said Maira, feeling very uncomfortable about this whole situation. How can you say those things? That man told me to go back to the castle where the men could protect me. He even told me to embroider and play a harp and to give up swinging a blade! Can you believe that?”
“I canna,” said Morag making a face. “After all, I dinna think ye even ken what to do with a needle, or a harp.” She chuckled. “It’s no’ like ye’ve ever tried either of those things.”
“Morag,” said Maira, glaring at her. “Hold your whee as the Scots would say.”
Morag rolled her eyes and shook her head. “At least get it right, dear cousin. It’s haud yer wheesht.”
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.” Maira tired of talking of the stranger. “That man’s opinion of how a lady should act is the way most men think. It’s disgusting.”
