Highland Warlord - Amy Jarecki Page 0,40

the shoots of leaves, turning green with the promise of spring.

After a moment or two, she turned and asked, “You said the cross was your mother’s. What happened to her?”

James brushed his fingers over the heirloom. “She was taken by fever when I was but two years of age.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, the smile fading.

He almost asked her to smile again but doing so would make him sound like a careless rogue. “And your mother?”

“She drowned in the Firth of Solway when I was an infant. My father remarried, but my stepmother died giving birth to Harris.”

“Forgive me. You have endured so many sorrows.”

“’Tis the way of things. And ’tis why we must live for the now.”

He stopped at the river’s edge. “I like that. For the now.”

“Which is also the reason I’ve decided I must accompany you once we learn where my uncle has taken Harris,” she said as he stooped to fill the pail with water.

James’ blood boiled as he stood. What the devil? Had she been scheming to hit him upside the head with her unthinkable notion all along? Did she believe she was some sort of warrior princess? He set the bucket on the shore, straightened, and hovered over her. “I disagree.”

She scoffed, thrusting her fists onto those saucy hips. “I beg your pardon? You fob me off without at least asking for my reasoning?”

“I do not need to ask. Not only are you female, you are pint-sized at that.” He thrust his finger toward the camp. “Any man in my army could flay you.”

Seemingly unaffected by his pointed remark, Lady Ailish defiantly turned up her chin. “Och aye? Then where would you like me to go once you leave? Ride north to Kildrummy?”

“Good God, no. I’d rather have you stay in Douglas with Hew’s wife.”

“And you believe such an arrangement is safe for the daughter of Johann Maxwell?”

“No one would suspect—”

“I disagree,” she said, spitting the word. Fuming, she pulled a dagger from her sleeve and held it aloft. “Besides, I am not completely unable to defend myself.”

James snorted and rolled his eyes to the tops of the trees. “What the blazes do you intend to do with that wee knife?”

She drew an X through the air. “You’d be surprised.”

“Show me.” He beckoned with his fingers. “Come, have a go.”

“You? That’s hardly fair. You’re the king’s champion.”

James almost grinned. She thought of him as a champion? If she weren’t being so contentious at the moment, he might climb to the highest hill in Selkirk and beat his chest. “You said you were skilled with a dagger. As the Bruce’s general on the borders, I’d like to see what you can do.”

“Very well, but I’ll not be held accountable if I hurt you.”

“Agreed.”

Sliding a foot back, Her Ladyship addressed him as if preparing for a swordfight. Then she proceeded to dance around him as if either deciding upon his weakest point or waiting for him to move.

James clenched and unclenched his fists. “I haven’t all day.”

The lass’ crystal eyes flashed wide as she lunged straight for his heart. Before she had the blade completely extended, he stepped off the line, grabbed her wrist, and bent her hand inward, putting stress on her fine sinews and relieving the weapon from her grasp.

“Ow,” she said, rubbing her arm. “I hardly see what you just proved by manhandling me. You have the ability to disarm any soldier in your army.”

He returned her dagger, picked up the bucket, and headed toward the camp. “Aye, if they come at me directly.”

“Wait a moment.” She snatched the pail and dropped it on the ground, making half the water slosh over the side. “You cannot just say something like that and be done with it.”

“Nay?”

The saucy woman stamped her foot, jutting her face into his. “Nay.”

He offered a mocking bow. “What would you have me do, m’lady?”

“I would have you explain and demonstrate what I should have done.”

“Very well.” James held out his palm into which she deposited the knife. “First of all, if you plan to attack someone with a blade this small, it must be a surprise.”

“But you already knew I was going to thrust at you.”

With the speed of an asp, he grabbed her wrist, twisted her into his body, and held the knife against her neck, ensuring his thumb kept the blade away from her skin. “Did ye ken I was going to do that?” he growled, making his tone menacing.

“Or this?” Kicking his foot, he swept the woman’s

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