Free Across a Dark Highland Shore (Hot Highlands Romance Book 2) by Kelly Jameson Page A

comely as a toad, unpleasant to look upon. Look at her hair. Not fair and womanly like ye are, my Lady Katherine, even though ye be a Campbell, those greedy, unscrupulous, perfidious bastards.”
    “I think ye confuse us with the Macdonalds,” Lady Katherine said, smiling without warmth.
    They lost interest in Isobel as Errol lazily lifted a hand and caressed a dark curl at Lady Katherine’s temple. She looked momentarily alarmed and he quickly dropped his hand.
    “Pay them no mind,” Maida said, approaching Isobel and offering her ale. “Beauty without a heart is cold. And Errol? He’s one to judge others. This summer past he was caught with his trews down by several enemy clansmen in an apple orchard. He was takin’ a shit. He only survived by riding away, bareback. His arse was red as an apple for a week. Ye think about that when he opens his cruel and thoughtless mouth against ye.”
    Isobel laughed, and this time it was Lady Katherine and Errol who turned their heads in curiosity.
    “Maida, I need something to do here. I plan to speak to Leith about it this morning. I canna sit idle all day and e’ening, waiting for visions. I canna cook; I was ne’er vera good at that. In fact, once, I tripped and fell into the fire. A pot saved me from a worse scorching of my face.” She lifted a curl on her forehead to reveal a small scar. “But I am good at other things. I can sew and carry wood and change the rushes. I know how to treat earaches and stomach aches and toothaches. I know a lot about herbs. I know how to treat battle wounds and….”
    “Och, nay. Leith has forbidden it.”
    “He… what ?”
    “Ye are no’ to lift a finger in menial tasks. He wants all yer attention focused on yer visions for the good of the clan. He wants nothing to interfere with that.”
    A man bellowed from the kitchens about burnt, lumpy oats and Maida frowned. “’Tis true that a Maclean can fight all day on the meanest, plainest porridge but, oh dear, if it’s no’ just right, Cook throws a fit. I’d better go and soothe his temper. If ye need anything, please let me know. Even if it’s just a friendly smile once in a while.” Maida returned to the kitchens.
    Despite Maida’s kindness, Isobel was incredulous. And angry. Who was Leith to decide her fate and how she should spend her days here? Ranulph had told her that Leith was the sort of man who made the future. And he had decided hers. Och, but Isobel couldna stand to be idle. She crossed her arms over her chest and began to tap her foot, thinking about the words she would have with Leith.
    The room seemed to grow darker with shadow as she began to talk quietly to herself, mumbling unsavory things about the arrogant, black-haired Highlander.
    “Why are ye sitting in the shadows, talking to yerself?”
    The rich-timbered, commanding voice startled her. She looked up to see Leith towering above her, amusement in his amber eyes. His plaid was clasped about his wide shoulders with the topaz jewel, as if he planned to leave the castle on an errand.
    “I was breaking my fast,” Isobel said. She continued to tap her foot and her arms were still crossed rigidly over her chest.
    “Ye seem…perturbed. Did ye no’ sleep well?”
    “I slept vera well. The bed is the nicest I’ve e’er slept in, and vera warm. But the room is far too grand for me.”
    “’Tis to be yer room while yer here. Ye will no’ sleep on a pallet of straw where ye would be vulnerable. There are some here who may ne’er accept yer presence and so I must protect ye. Did ye dream?”
    “Nay.”
    He offered his hand. “In future, ye shall no’ break yer fast in the shadows with the hounds. Ye shall sit by my side at my table.”
    She stared at his hand. She looked at Lady Katherine and Errol, who were both glaring at her.
    “I prefer the shadows,” she said, returning her gaze to his.
    His eyes had taken on a hard, gold glint. “I willna allow it. Ye are to be by my side whene’er I wish it.