Free The Frost Maiden's Kiss by Claire Delacroix Page B

so cool a blue that Malcolm knew her to be resolute. “I fear, my lord, that experience makes me skeptical of such a claim.”
    “Then you shall have to linger at Ravensmuir to replace your understanding with mine.”
    The notion clearly troubled her, for she shook her head and abruptly turned away.
    “Please await me in the hall, Catriona. I would speak to the lead mason.”
    She looked back, a query in her expression. “Why tell me this, sir?”
    “I would discourage the curiosity in the men that you and I both noticed, and I wish you to know that it will be done.”
    “How, my lord?”
    Malcolm spoke with resolve. “I shall make it clear to him that the rations of ale will be halved if any woman or maid or girl in my household sustains so much injury as a broken fingernail.”
    Catriona’s lips parted as she stared at him in surprise. “And does this edict apply to your comrade, as well?”
    “It applies to all men in my holding,” Malcolm insisted quietly, guessing that she feared a surprise in the night while in his abode. “You are safe here, Catriona. I pledge it to you.”
    She was enticing enough when she was bold, but when her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise, Malcolm found her alluring indeed.
    He let his voice drop to a confidential tone. “For if you do not believe that a man of merit defends those weaker than himself, then I am compelled to prove it to you, Catriona. It is a matter of principle.”
    With that, Malcolm turned away to keep his word, knowing she watched him go. Indeed, he felt new purpose in his own step, for there was good he could do in this world. He would destroy Catriona’s fear of him before she left his abode, no matter the price.
    * * *
    The Laird of Ravensmuir defied her every expectation.
    He would defend the chastity of the women in his household. He would ensure the safety of the children, and he anticipated the needs of his guests. He was neither so proud as to avoid making an apology or to refuse to ask for assistance from the brother who disapproved of his choices.
    Was it possible that he was a man of principle?
    Or was this all a deceit?
    He did, after all, confess to believing in the Fae, which was a strange sign of whimsy in such as he.
    The combination was nigh enough to make him intriguing.
    The laird was an alluring man, to be sure. If Catriona had not endured all she had, she might well have been more receptive to him. The way he said her name like a caress, the way he watched her with that fixed attention, the way his eyes had glimmered as if he might smile when she told the girls of bogles.
    On the other hand, the laird’s perusal of her was so intense that she was put in mind of a hawk choosing its next prey.
    Catriona could not imagine why he should seek her good opinion, and she distrusted how readily he conjured it. Perhaps he was a sorcerer as Ruari had suggested. Or perhaps he understood that she was not accustomed to attentions from men of power. In her state, she hardly offered any temptation. Her back ached even now after that ride in the cart, and she felt so large and ungainly that she could not believe he had noticed her at all.
    Did he perceive her to be vulnerable? It was all too reasonable a thought. Catriona bit her lip even as she watched him speak with the lead mason. If his interest had the simplest reason, it did not bode well for her night at Ravensmuir.
    She turned away from him, feigning disinterest, and strode toward the keep. It would be folly to encourage him in any way.
    For just one night, she had to be vigilant. In the morning, they would be away, off to Kinfairlie, away from Ravensmuir and its beguiling laird. Catriona would find her child a home, then return to keep her vow alone. She doubted she would survive that deed, but she had pledged to see it done.
    She owed Ian no less.
    The hair prickled on the back of Catriona’s neck when she was in the shadow of the keep and she glanced back to find the laird striding