Free Betrayed by Claire Robyns Page B

seated at a smaller table further down.
    Had Krayne truly left her here alone and unguarded?
    She looked to her left, to the orange-bearded one who’d long since finished eating and now patiently stared into the distance. Ah, yes, he was still here. One of the few who didn’t seem to have urgent business to attend to.
    Unless she was his business.
    “Are you my watchdog?” she demanded without preamble.
    The man shifted uncomfortably. “I’m but ta keep an eye out fer ye, lest ye find yerself in trouble.”
    “Lest I make trouble, you surely mean.”
    “Nay, lass, after last night I’m no expectin’ ye ta run agin.”
    “Of course not! That would be foolish and whatever else I might be, I’m no fool.”
    “Och, lass, yer nobbit but an angel, sure ye are.” His enormous, scarred hand covered her hand. “My name be Red John.”
    Amber fought the instinct to jerk her hand away as she caught the look of admiration in his eye. Mayhap she didn’t need a miracle after all. She licked suddenly dry lips, her heart beating at twice the normal speed. “Red John, that’s a bold name. How come you by it?”
    His hand, so large his palm alone engulfed her hand, squeezed gently. “Nay, lass, ’tis no a story fer a fragile beauty such as ye.”
    Amber leaned in to whisper close to his lips, “You are bold, a trait I find incredibly enticing in a man.”
    His blue stare flared with unbridled lust. “If ye come wi’ me ta a private alcove, I’ll show ye just how bold.”
    Her courage dimmed and Amber drew away. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
    But she did. And half her mind screamed to continue what she’d started, that this might be her only chance.
    “Dinna fear, lass, fer I’ll nae hurt ye.”
    Amber saw the truth in his eyes, felt it in the lightness as his fingers stroked hers, heard it in the softly spoken promise. Red John wasn’t nearly as tough and fearsome as he looked. She had no brewed potion to knock him out, but his gentle nature would work, as well.
    She managed a sultry, “Not inside the castle. Take me to a secluded spot down by the river.”
    Red John was on his feet before she finished, holding out his hand. “Aye, I know the very place.”
    Amber rose, giving him her hand. “And if I change my mind, swear on your honour that you will not force me.”
    “Och, lass, what beast do ye take me fer?”
    Amber stood firm. “Swear.”
    “On my honour,” he relented, then gave her a confident wink. “But ye willna change yer mind.” He pulled Amber closer and led her out the door. “We’ll ride together and ’tis no far ta go.”
    “The farther the better,” Amber mumbled.
    “What’s that, lass?”
    Amber pasted on a smile. “Your boldness must be rubbing off on me.”
     
    Krayne found Isla directing the sorting and washing of linen in the wash house, an outdoor chamber built up against the barmekin wall next to the forge. He called her aside and asked, “Did ye not send the midday meal up ta the Jardin lass?”
    Isla snorted. “Aye, that I did. She’d have none o’ it. Said she wasna hungry an’ threw the trencher back in my face.”
    The lie came easily. Isla had lost her father and two older brothers to Jardin skirmishes over the years. The Jardins had no honour, starting with the laird’s brother who’d run from his duty to Krayne’s widowed mother back then. That the girl had run last night, on Isla’s duty, kindled an already well-stoked fire.
    “That woman’s a hornet nest of trouble and deceit,” Krayne muttered. “One day she’ll find herself caught in a web of her own making and I pray ta God I’ll be there ta witness it.”
    Isla smiled at her laird. He’d never question a Johnstone over a Jardin. She’d keep an eye out for any further opportunities to ply misery on the Jardin spawn.
    Krayne stepped out from the stifling air of the wash house into the cool May afternoon breeze. He strode across the nearly deserted bailey and passed through the