all over his tunic.
When he looked at the pelts with some interest, Lor pushed the man’s hands back so they wouldn’t dirty the skins. He held them up for the man to show them the fine quality. But the merchant wasn’t stupid; he’d seen the pelts, and the basket, before. He knew they belonged to the pushy lass from the hills. When he finally shook his head at Lor, denying him the sale, Lor reached out and grabbed the man by the collar of his expensive robes. As Isabail watched with increasing astonishment, Lor muttered a few select words to the merchant, and the man’s expression went from defiant to fearful in one motion.
His head nodded.
Lor gave him the pelts, and the man counted out the shillings.
Astonished, Isabail ducked back into the alleyway as Lor returned to her, holding out a big hand that contained several silver coins.
“Here ye are,” he said, putting the coins into her open palm and handing her the empty basket. “He was happy tae buy them.”
Isabail’s mouth was hanging open in surprise. She counted the coins; there were twelve. Twelve shillings, twelve pelts. Her gaze returned to Lor.
“I dunna know what tae say,” she finally said. “When I saw the man, he refused tae buy them.”
The ever-present smile was back on Lor’s lips. “Sometimes a man just needs a bit of prodding, ’tis all. And a strong suggestion of what will happen if he doesna agree with ye.”
Isabail looked back to the money in her hand before finally closing a fist around it. Her gaze returned to Lor.
“Ye told me once that ye weren’t a warrior,” she said.
She was referring back to the first time they met. Lor remembered that conversation, too, mostly because it was something that had confused him over the years. She’d told him that, being a Highlander, he needed to learn to fight as if it was part of his identity. Truth be told, that was something he’d always wrestled with, thanks to her.
“I’m not,” he said, with perhaps a little less humor, given the subject. “I dinna fight the man tae sell yer pelts.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I suppose…I suppose I meant that ye have a presence about ye, Lor Careston. I saw it those years ago when we met, and I saw it again just now. Ye have a way about ye that is…strong. If ye were a warrior, ye’d be a fine one.”
He laughed softly as he shook his head. “I’ve no need tae be a warrior,” he said. “I can get along fine as I am. I sold yer pelts, did I not?”
She nodded. “Ye did,” she said. “And I thank ye for it.”
The smile faded from his face as he looked at her, his eyes glimmering with something suggesting warmth. That pretty lass from the vale had his interest now as she had back then. It was an attraction that, although unnutured in years, was surprisingly strong. The childhood spark he’d felt those years ago had never died.
The spark was beginning to blaze.
“When will ye come back to Brechin?” he asked quietly. “Will ye come soon?”
From the expression on her face, Isabail seemed to understand his inference. “I canna say,” she said honestly. “I only come when I have pelts tae sell.”
“Do ye travel through the Vale of Morning tae come here?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes,” she said. “Sometimes I take the road.”
“Road from where? Where do ye live?”
They’d gotten onto the forbidden subject again, and she averted her gaze. “In the hills,” she said, which wasn’t a lie. “Ye canna go there.”
“Why not?”
“Because my da willna like it.”
Now, she was introducing a protective father so Lor backed off. But he was clever about it.
“But if I have birds’ eggs tae bring ye, where will I find ye?” he asked.
She looked at him. “The vale,” she said almost gently. “If ye go tae the vale, I’ll find ye.”
“Ye willna throw rocks at me again, will ye?”
It was her turn to grin now, a lovely smile that Lor found enchanting. “I willna,” she said. “I willna let anyone else throw them, either.”
“If I go tae the vale tomorrow, will I find ye there?”
It was an invitation and her eyes twinkled as she looked at him, a faint flush mottled her cheeks. “Will ye bring the eggs?”
With a smile flickering on his lips, he lifted one of her dirty hands to his lips, kissing the knuckles gently. He watched the flush in her cheeks deepen.
“I’ll bring them.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
Winking at her, Lor dropped her hand and turned away, heading back into town to finish his business with old Albe. He wasn’t going to finish anything until he had Isabail’s pledge that she would see him again, but now he had it.
He could go about his business.
When Albe wanted to know why Lor was smiling so much, he smiled more but wouldn’t answer.
Highland Gladiator
On sale August 2020!
Acknowledgments
Behind the creation of every book an author pens is the vast support network of those cheering her forward. I could not have brought this book, or any book, to life without a number of amazing people. First and foremost, endless gratitude to my family—I love you all dearly and literally couldn’t do this without your love of sandwiches and “foraging for dinner.” Thank you to my agent, Kevan Lyon, for believing in me. Many thanks to the team at Sourcebooks for their excitement about the series and continued support. And last but never least, merci beaucoup to the most incredible writer friends a gal could have who helped me plot, read pages, offered advice, traveled with me for research, and handed me glasses of wine. Listed in no particular order: Andrea Snider, Brenna Ash, Madeline Martin, Lori Ann Bailey, Christi Barth, and my #ScarletSisters. Dreams happen when we believe in ourselves and persist no matter what.
About the Author
Eliza Knight is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty sizzling historical romances. Under the name E. Knight, she’s known for riveting tales that cross landscapes around the world. Her love of history began as a young girl when she traipsed the halls of Versailles and ran through the fields in Southern France. While not reading, writing, or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping, and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses, and two very naughty newfies.
Visit Eliza at elizaknight.com or her historical blog, History Undressed.
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