Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,79
hand—from where, he had no idea—and murder in her eyes.
Thankfully, she was half asleep, and he was wide awake. He instinctively yanked his head back and took a swipe at her wrist, dislodging the dagger and sending it flying across the room, where it skidded across on the floor.
“Colban!” she demanded, her shoulders relaxing. “What are you doing here?”
For an instant, he couldn’t answer, stunned by her transformation from sleeping maid to murderous warrior and back to drowsy angel. The idea that he might actually wake up beside this lovely vision every day was hard to believe.
“Isabel sent me.”
She cast a quick glance around the chamber. “Where is Isabel?”
“She’s safe. She’s in the laird’s bedchamber. She told me to tell ye your parents are here.”
“What? Here? Now?” Her eyes went wide. “Nay, nay, nay, nay, nay.” She leaped from the bed, opened the chest at its foot, and began rifling through the contents for something to wear.
“Ye told Isabel about us?” he asked.
“She…guessed,” Hallie replied, dragging out a woad blue kirtle that matched her eyes. “But she hasn’t told anyone else, has she?”
“I don’t think so. She told me to hide in your chamber.”
“Good.” She shimmied into the kirtle. “You should be safe here.” She scoured the room and finally found her shoes beside the bed. “Oh! What about the bath?”
“Isabel is…in it.”
“In it?”
He nodded.
Her brows creased. “I suppose ’twill have to do. She’ll come up with some explanation.”
She snapped up an ivory comb from the table beside the bed and hastily untangled her hair, then tied it back with a blue ribbon.
“How do I look?”
“Perfect.” He wasn’t exaggerating. He only hoped his appearance was half as decent when she introduced him to her parents.
Hallie had trained herself not to succumb to flattery. Still, her heart fluttered at his compliment.
Her eyes softened in a fond farewell. Then she took a calming breath, straightened, and headed toward the door. She had to concentrate on the crucial matters at hand.
Moments later, at the front gate, she greeted her parents and their small retinue with hugs and smiles all around.
“What news?” she asked eagerly. “What did the king decide?”
“God’s hooks, Hallie,” her father Pagan said, clapping her on the cheek. “Let us settle in first.”
Her mother Deirdre confided, “We’ve had a long journey.”
“Of course.” She waved them into the courtyard. “Welcome home.”
She studied their faces. But she could tell nothing from their comportment. Her parents, her aunts, her uncles all seemed carefully neutral about what had transpired.
The clan gathered in the courtyard to welcome them, and Hallie called for ale and oatcakes to be brought to the travelers.
“Where’s Jenefer?” her aunt Helena asked.
“And Feiyan?” her aunt Miriel added.
Hallie’s heart dropped. In her concern about what she’d arranged with Colban, she’d forgotten about her cousins being held hostage. She hoped no one in the clan would bring it up.
“They’re…somewhere close by,” she hedged. “But tell me, how were your travels?”
The look her aunts exchanged was maddeningly conspiratorial.
Finally, Miriel spoke. “You’ve been to Edinburgh, Hallie. You know how mad it can be. Bustling streets. Crowds everywhere. Nobles clamoring for the court’s attention.”
“But you did speak with the king?” she asked.
Helena closed her eyes to smoldering slits. “If that’s what you want to call him.”
Miriel cuffed her. “Helena!”
“He’s a pup,” Helena complained. “Bloody hell, I don’t know how he’s going to hold on to the crown. Your Merewen could best him in battle.”
Merewen was Miriel’s youngest daughter, all of eight years old.
Hallie placed a hand on her aunt Miriel’s arm. “But he did give you an answer?”
Her father suddenly raised the cup of ale someone had brought him. “’Tis good to be home!” he bellowed.
The clan cheered, and Hallie was obliged to wait until they settled down to resume her line of questioning.
She turned to her uncle Colin, who would surely tell her what she needed to know. After all, it was his daughter who stood to inherit Creagor.
“What news for Jenefer, Uncle?”
He cleared his throat. Before he could answer, Helena inserted herself between them. “I think ’tis only right we tell Jenefer first, aye?”
Hallie furrowed her brows. She supposed that was fair.
Helena added, “Where did you say she was again?”
Hallie was saved from having to answer when Brand came bounding across the courtyard, followed by Gellir and Ian. “Ma! Da! Welcome home!”
Her uncle Rand ruffled Brand’s hair. “I swear you’ve grown three inches in the last fortnight, lad.”
“He’s nigh as tall as my Hew,” Colin agreed.
They made more infuriating chatter while Hallie stewed, worried over