had her alone in the hall, how he pushed her against the wall and shoved up her skirt to ensure that they were caught in a suggestive position.
“He didn’t touch me.” Isolde didn’t know why she felt she had to offer that reassurance to Sutherland. “But he might as well have, for the opinion of all the men who saw.”
Sutherland’s face darkened to an alarming shade of red. “I truly regret that ye dinna allow me to battle him that day on yer behalf.”
Isolde regarded Sutherland warily. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it would have been the best opportunity for me to kill him.”
Cormac was entirely sincere about wanting to kill Brodie. The hurt and embarrassment blazing in Isolde’s face and the tears shining in her eyes made him want to slay someone. Brodie would be a good start. Then her brother would do nicely as a second.
Cormac couldn’t stop recalling how hard Brodie had struck her. How even Cormac himself had hit her through the course of their practice when he thought she was her brother.
He tugged off his gauntlets and let them fall unceremoniously onto his pack on the floor. “Let me see yer arm.”
She didn’t move to slide off her gauntlet or lift up her sleeve. He closed the distance between them with a single step and carefully eased back the padded coif and chainmail hood from her head. All of her hair was visible now; the limp auburn waves plastered to her face and scalp with a braid that ran down the back of her gambeson and chainmail. She watched him with wide blue eyes as he did this, saying nothing.
But not stopping him either.
“Please,” he said in a quiet voice.
He longed to caress her cheek, to warm her cold, damp skin with his hands. Instead, he lifted her arm and gently pulled off her gauntlet, the leather of her glove beneath cold and swollen with rainwater. Her fingers were slender and fine; her nails perfectly rounded and clean. Lady’s hands.
Color touched her cheeks. “Hugh always insisted I wore gloves when we practiced so my palms wouldn’t become callused.”
“Smart man.” Cormac pushed up the sleeve of her chainmail and the gambeson beneath, exposing the entirety of the bruise. It was as long as the hilt of his blade and a dark purple black.
He ran his finger over her injury, his touch light as a feather. Her skin blazed under his fingertips.
Concern and anger twisted into an ugly knot in his gut. “Are ye sure ’tis no’ broken?”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “I’ve had a break before. I know what it feels like.”
Rage coiled tighter inside him. He hated that she’d known pain before and that she was experiencing it now. He hated the man who had done this to her and those who had forced her into such extreme circumstances. But more than anything, he was overwhelmed by the need to protect her. He wanted to be at her side for the rest of her life with his blade at the ready, prepared to slay any man who even thought of causing her pain.
“’Tis fine, Sutherland,” she said.
He regulated his breathing to cool his ire and caught her sweet rose scent. It was delicate and fine, like her.
“’Tis no’ fine.” He curled his hand around hers, engulfing her slender, icy fingers. He wanted to embrace all of her thus. “Cormac. Please call me Cormac.”
“Cormac,” she whispered his name, her demeanor suddenly reticent.
He couldn’t tear his gaze from the brilliance of her blue eyes. They were pale and flecked with green around her pupil, a color that reminded him of a summer loch. Heat effused his veins, and he found himself fighting the urge to pull her toward him to capture her mouth with his.
He gritted his teeth. He would do no such thing. Not when so many men had used her to their own advantage.
Except he was doing that very thing now too, was he not? He was seeking her hand in marriage so that he might have access to her wealth. His soul went dark with guilt. He should walk away, abandon the foolish notion of wooing her into marriage.
Graham appeared to be getting on well with Lady Clara. Surely, the dowry of one nobleman’s daughter would be enough to sustain the clan until they managed a season of successful crops.
Cormac knew he should back away from her at that moment. Except her gaze swept to his mouth, her expression soft. Her