the sinful siren that lurked beneath her charm come out of hibernation.
The thought of her kiss, of how she pulled him against her, took her pleasure from his body, made him burn to taste her once more. To be alone and in private.
Black Ben stormed into the tent, sweat covered his brow and his hand sat atop his sword. The hairs on the back of Aedan’s neck rose. “What is it?” he asked.
“The men on the southern lookout have spotted Clan Kirk.”
“On their way to Druiminn? Why would they come here?” Aedan stood and his sister swore, pulling him back down. “Are ye nearly done, lass?”
“Nearly,” she said. “Just one more stitch.”
“The men have ye horse ready to ride out.”
“What about the ladies archery contest? Do ye still want to hold it today with ye leaving?” Gwen asked.
“Nay. We’ll postpone.” Aedan nodded toward his arm, hurrying Gwen as she quickly tied a bandage around his wound. He grabbed a tunic lying on the ground and threw it on before following Ben. Unable to help himself, he looked back at Abigail and saw the worry etched on her face. He hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see the lass. Clan Kirk were as bad as the O’Cains, perhaps worse, because you never knew if the knife would be forward facing or in your back.
Chapter 14
Abby paced the great hall, tonight’s meal a somber affair as Aedan and Black Ben, along with Braxton, hadn’t yet returned, which made Gwen quiet and withdrawn. They had taken approximately twenty armed clansmen with them. Surely, with such precautions, they would return to the castle without injury.
From what Abby could gather, the clan and laird coming from the south were the very epitome of cruel. To think the even-tempered Mae might be handfasted to such a man, made dread churn in her gut. Why her family thought it was a good idea to marry her off to a man who’d mysteriously lost his last fiancée was beyond her. They obviously had bats in their heads.
The castle doors flew open and slammed against the stone wall. The sounds of men bombarded the hall and everyone turned to see who’d entered. Aedan strode in, Black Ben beside him. They looked relaxed and happy and yet, something in Aedan’s eyes gave her pause.
It was an act.
The clansmen had long since eaten, and so she was warming herself in front of the fire when Aedan joined them behind the dais. He bowed and turned to introduce her to their newest guests.
“This is Rory Kirk, laird of Clan Kirk from the Lowlands,” he said, before stating her name.
Abby nodded in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, my lord.”
Rory Kirk stared at her with an intensity that left her cold, and she shifted closer to Aedan.
“Is that what yer calling yourself these days, lass?” Laird Kirk laughed and some of his men joined in with his mirth.
Abby swallowed, unsure what he meant by that. “I beg your pardon. I don’t understand.”
“I hadn’t thought the rumors could be true, but it seems they are. Come, Coira, do not play me the fool. How is it you’re here?” The underlying tremble of anger she could hear in his voice told her he was angry, no matter how benign he was speaking outwardly.
But surely he didn’t think… “I’m not Coira. I’m Abigail Cross, as Aedan said.”
“I would’ve thought better of ye, Aedan. To house the very woman who dishonored a fellow Scotsman is treachery.”
“Ye mistaken, Rory. This woman is not your missing betrothed.”
Whispered gasps sounded and in Abigail’s peripheral vision she noted Aedan place his hand on his sword hilt.
“I’m sorry for your loss, but you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not this Coira you speak of,” she said, not liking the tension that radiated around them.
“How can ye not be when you’re the very image of the lass who went missing from my lands six months past? Mayhap ye hair is different, and ye skin seems to have improved, but ye certainly look like her to me.” He too clasped his sword and fear spiked through her gut.
“I don’t know what else to say, sir, other than you’re wrong.” Silence ensued and Abby wondered how she could get herself into so much trouble with very little effort. She wracked her brain, trying to think of an ancestor who could possibly be this woman Coira, but having lost her parents at a young age, and then fostered out, her study of her