Page 66 of Claimed by a Highlander
Lovat laughed. “Rough in a different way. This is a harsh land and prone to violence.”
His insistence that she was not suited to this life she was forced to enter was getting under Sybil’s skin, but she was not about to let him see it. She propped her feet up on the stool between them and crossed her ankles. “As ye say, I’m stronger than most ofmy kind.”
“I don’t mean to insult ye, but to offer my assistance.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what assistance would that be?”
“If ye should decide that ye wish to return home,” he said, “come to me, and I’ll see that ye get there safely.”
“I fear you’re under the false impression that I have someplace else to go.” Sybil set her cup down carefully. “I assure you, I do not.”
“Don’t be modest,” he said. “You and I both know that a lass with your looks and wits is never without choices.”
His words brought back memories of how she had been primped to be shown to the king at thirteen, propositioned countless times at court, and offered Finnart’s protection when she was nearly desperate enough to take it.
“I hope you’re not suggesting,” she said in light tone, “that I become some man’s whore.”
“Mistress is a more accurate word for it. And isn’t that what ye are to Rory?” he said. “For ye cannot be his wife.”
“Then why are ye so worried?” She stood. “I appreciate the wine, and our talk has been informative, but now ye should leave.”
“Think of Rory,” he said when his hand was on the latch. “He needs a marriage alliance with a clan that has warriors to fight for him. Defeating Hector will be no easy task. And then there are the MacDonalds.”
“I want Rory to succeed,” she said. “I’ll help him in whatever way I can.”
“Then we are in accord,” Lovat said. “I, too, will do whatever he needs me to do.”
***
Sybil blinked to clear the black spots that danced before her eyes as she crossed the castle courtyard. She hoped a walk in the fresh air would do her good, but she still felt sluggish and lightheaded.
“Good day to ye.”
Her host’s appearance at her side unnerved her because she had not seen him coming. What was wrong with her?
“I see you’re taking advantage of the break in the rain for a wee stroll,” Lovat said. “May I join ye?”
She could hardly object as it was his courtyard, and she did not truly mind. After his initial attempt failed, he seemed to have given up on persuading her to return to the Lowlands. In the days since, Lovat had shown her nothing but courtesy.
Her vision went black for a moment. When she started to stumble, Lovat caught her arm.
“Are ye well, my dear?” he asked. “I can see that waiting for word from Rory is taking a toll on ye.”
That was true. She worried constantly and missed him even more. But worry and heartache did not generally cause dizzy spells, sweaty palms, and shortness of breath.
“Come inside,” he said. “I’ll send to the kitchen for something to eat and drink.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re wasting away,” he said, patting her arm. “Rory will be disappointed if ye lose that fine figure of yours.”
If she were not feeling so weak, she might have kicked him. Instead, she gritted her teeth and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as they walked back toward the keep.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said when they reached the hall and he offered again to send for refreshments. “But I’ll just lie down and have a rest.”
“Certainly, my dear.”
Sweat broke out on her brow as she climbed the stairs. The wheeled steps seemed to go on forever and made her head spin so badly she had to keep one hand on the curved wall to steady herself. Once she finally made it to her chamber, she collapsed on the bed.
