Free The Highlander's Heart by Amanda Forester

loosely attached to his body. Campbell, in contrast, reminded her of a snake coiled and ready to strike. “And how did ye get involved in this?”
    “He stepped in between me and them after one of them forced himself on me.” Isabelle spoke up for her would-be rescuer. “Very gallant. I must thank you, sir.”
    Campbell never took his eyes off the minstrel, but she noticed his shoulder muscles tensed even tighter.
    “The lady did not appear to be enjoying his attentions.” The minstrel spoke with a lazy nonchalance, laced with a French accent. “Never leads to any good. Once a brawl starts, I’ll get no more tips for the night.”
    “Ye have my thanks. Ye be French?” asked Campbell.
    “ Oui . I am Jacques le Chanteur a traveling minstrel and your humble servant, my lord.” The minstrel gave Campbell a well-practiced bow.
    “If ever ye find yerself on Campbell land, ye will be welcome.”
    “A gracious offer. My lord. My lady.” The minstrel gave another elegant bow and quit the room, leaving Isabelle alone with Campbell.
    Campbell turned slowly back to her. The man who leveled a penetrating glare at her shared no resemblance to the friendly Campbell whose company she had enjoyed earlier. His face was cold, expressionless, his eyes accusing. Silence filled the room, a void of sound that spoke much.
    “Ye wished to find another protector?” Campbell’s voice was hard.
    “No! I was looking for you.”
    “I saw ye kissing that man.”
    “He attacked me!”
    “I told ye to stay here. I grow weary of constantly rescuing ye from yer remarkable penchant for finding trouble. How much more will ye ask o’ me?”
    “I never meant—”
    Campbell waved a hand at her, cutting her off. “Ye wished to see me. Here I am. What did ye want?”
    “I… I…” Isabelle had wanted to confide in this man, to tell him of her fears, to ask for his help. She had been so naïve. “’Tis nothing. I apologize for causing trouble.”
    Campbell stepped forward and gently touched her neck where the man had grabbed her. She flinched instinctively, fearful he would take over where Harry left off. Campbell would ne’er be caught wi’ a Sassenach. He hates them bastards more than we do. Harry’s mocking words flooded her mind. She knew nothing of this man. Nothing.
    Campbell dropped his hand. “Now I need to deal with yer friends downstairs.”
    “What will you do?” asked Isabelle.
    “They have insulted me. It will no’ go unanswered.”
    Isabelle crossed her arms in front of her. The men had insulted him ? “I rather thought it was me they were insulting.”
    “Ye should never have left yer room. I should have known ye would be trouble. I’ll find ye a suitable situation on the morrow, but for now stay here.”
    “A suitable situation? What do you mean?” Isabelle’s heart pounded. His intentions sounded ominous.
    “I canna take ye farther and ye clearly canna take care o’ yerself.”
    “I need to return to Bewcastle.”
    “How? Ye canna walk into a common room wi’out finding trouble. I think it is time ye realize Scotland is yer new home. I’ll find ye a place for lasses like ye tomorrow. For now, when I tell ye to stay in yer room, I expect ye to obey, ye ken.”
    Isabelle folded her arms across her chest, fighting the tears that pooled in her eyes. It was all going so horribly wrong.
    Campbell stalked out of the room and closed the door behind him. A loud click of the door being locked made her flinch. She was trapped.
    ***
     
    Isabelle was exhausted. She wanted to cry, but decided it would take more effort than she had for the task. She gazed longingly at the bed. It had bright linens and the straw mattress smelled fresh and inviting. The goose down comforter and pillow beckoned her to take her rest. Her muscles ached, her bones screamed for sleep. She refused.
    Isabelle must escape. She did not know what Campbell had planned for her tomorrow, but she could not risk finding out. Did he mean to give her