Highland Outlaw (Campbell Trilogy #2)(21)
“Of course. I can show you to where you will be staying.” She motioned to the bag tied to his saddle, which he'd removed and hung on the stable wall. “Bring your things if you like.”
He nodded and proceeded to remove the bag and sling it over his shoulders. A few of his men did the same and followed her out of the stables and into the barmkin. She led them across the courtyard and into one of the many wooden outer buildings constructed beside the keep that housed the castle's guardsmen—though right now it was empty. It was one large room with a wooden floor and a fireplace burning at the far end. Simple accommodation, perhaps, but at least it was warm and dry.
“One of the serving maids will bring you water.” She looked over the tired, dirty men, seeing the scrapes and bruises on some of their faces. “I will also send the healer with some salve if any of your men have need of it.”
He seemed about to argue, but she stopped him with a look and folded her arms across her chest. His mouth curved, and instead he said with a nod, “Thank you.”
She turned to leave but stopped suddenly to look back at him. Something niggled at her. The hard lines etched around his mouth seemed a little deeper. Her gaze slid over his face. “Are you sure you are feeling all right?”
“Nothing a good night's sleep and a meal will not cure.” Deftly, he turned the conversation back to her. “What of you? You've been on your feet for hours, tending to everyone's needs but your own.”
“There is much to be done,” she said unthinkingly.
“Surely not all of it must be done by you? You must be exhausted, yet I have not seen you sit down. Is the lady of the keep not allowed to rest?”
He'd been watching her, she realized, and seemed genuinely concerned. No one had ever worried about her before. A warm glow settled somewhere in her middle. “It's been a difficult day,” she admitted. “So many lives lost. But it would have been much worse without you.”
Worse without you … Something she'd overheard one of her men say when she'd walked into the stable came back to her. The answer was so simple. Why had she not thought of it sooner?
She opened her mouth and then hesitated. What did she really know about him, other than that he'd rescued her … twice? “I …”
“Yes?”
She straightened her spine, knowing all she needed to know. “I have a proposition that might be to both of our benefit.”
“What kind of proposition?”
“I know you are intent on leaving Scotland, but Castle Campbell is a good way from your home.”
“It is.”
“You and your men are looking for employment, and with the MacGregors on the loose and the men we lost today, we are in need of added protection.”
His eyes met hers. “You are suggesting that we stay and work for you?”
“It seems a perfect solution.”
He didn't seem convinced. “I don't know,” he hedged.
“Will you at least think about it? You don't have to give me your answer right away. Stay for a few days, take a look around, meet some of the other men, and then decide.”
He considered her for a moment, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he nodded. “I'll think about it.”
Lizzie beamed, unable to contain the burst of excitement. It was the perfect solution. She was so glad she'd thought of it.
It was easier than he'd expected, and what he'd intended all along, yet even more perfect because she believed it was her idea.
As Patrick watched Elizabeth Campbell leave the barracks, he knew he should be pleased. Not only had he achieved the first part of his mission by wheedling his way into her household, he also sensed that she was far from indifferent to him. But it wasn't satisfaction that he felt. Instead, it was something akin to guilt—ironic for a man known for his ruthlessness both on and off the battlefield.
Unfeeling. Cold. Remote. He'd heard them all, and usually from the fairer sex. But he never made any promises. On the contrary, he was crudely blunt about his needs. It wasn't his fault if women didn't want to believe the truth.
Distancing himself from emotion had never been a problem, and in this it would be no different. Any attraction he felt for Elizabeth Campbell would never get in the way of what he had to do.
Robbie came to stand beside him. The younger man shook his head. “I have to hand it to you, Captain. You work fast. And not appearing too eager is a stroke of brilliance.”
Patrick heard some loud grumbling coming from another one of his men and gave a look in his direction. “Have you something to say, Hamish?”
The older man glanced around to make sure they could not be overheard. “Not as fast as taking her.” He shook his head with great sadness. “In my da's day, a man saw a lass he wanted and he took her.”
Patrick bit back a smile. “Hard to see what's objectionable in that. Cattle don't mind lifting, why should a lass?”
His sarcasm was completely lost on the old warrior. “Exactly. ’Twas good enough courtin’ for my ma. None of this trifling about with wooing and seducing.”
Robbie put his arm around the other man consolingly and met Patrick's gaze with laughter twinkling in his eyes. It was hard to imagine anyone courting the sour-faced old woman who was Hamish's ma. “Aye, Hamish,” Robbie commiserated. “Those were the days. But the times they are a-changing. Remember what the captain said: A forced marriage brings too many problems, and would be easy to set aside. We want to hold the land, and for that we need the lass willing.”