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he’d allowed her to.
    Her cheeks heated as he slowly appraised her from head to toe. She wanted to move, but found her body had frozen. Gooseflesh erupted on every inch of her skin as his gaze climbed up to settle on her face. Though her body was totally covered, she felt as if he’d laid eyes on her bare flesh.
    A shiver ripped through her at such a wicked thought.
    ‘Donald,’ he said, his gaze lingering on her scarred cheek. ‘Stay with the healer. When I return, we leave for home.’
    How dare he look his fill and then dismiss her without a word? Lynelle squared her shoulders, grateful her quaking limbs were finally responding to her will.
    ‘Wait!’ she said.
    The man who triggered her ire and stole her senses stopped mid-stride and turned around to look at her. Impatience radiated from his powerful frame and his fists came to rest on his plaid-clad hips.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘My br...’ she bit down hard on her lower lip, furious with herself. The tanned skin showing through his unlaced shirt proved distracting, and she’d almost revealed Thomas was her brother. ‘Fenwick’s heir is to be released before we depart. The Elliot laird agreed. It was part of our barg... ‘
    ‘The lad was taken south and turned loose, unharmed , at dawn.’
    Lynelle looked up into his eyes. ‘Thomas is gone?’
    ‘Aye.’
    ‘How do I know you speak the truth?’
    His gaze darkened. ‘You don’t. You’ll just have to take me at my word. Now all that remains is for you to uphold your part of the agreement.’
    He turned, and Lynelle stared at the breadth of his shoulders as he headed for the keep. Emptiness welled inside her.
    Thomas was gone! He was free! Even now was he wrapped in his mother’s embrace, cramming sweetmeats into his mouth as he regaled his daring adventure?
    She struggled to summon an ounce of delight. She’d wanted to speak with her stepbrother or at least have him see her. No one knew she’d left Fenwick, and with Thomas gone, not a soul would know what had become of her.
    Her stomach churned at her selfishness. Looking about, her self-pity receded beneath mounting apprehension.
    Being alone wasn’t new to her, but nothing was familiar here. Not the surroundings, nor the people. They spoke with an odd burr and the men dressed in garments that exposed their legs. Even their hair was worn much longer than that of her countrymen. Everything was different.
    ‘The laird doesn’t tell falsehoods, Miss.’
    Lynelle jumped and spun around at the sound of the voice behind her.
    ‘And what of yourself?’ she asked the man of middle years, before she could still her tongue.
    ‘Oh, I’ve told a good number of untruths in my time,’ he said, with what appeared to be an amused twinkle in his brown eyes. ‘But only when necessary.’
    Shocked at herself for speaking so freely with another person, Lynelle suddenly realized her confrontations inside the keep last night and outside this morning were the most she’d spoken with someone else besides Bernard and since Ada’s death three years ago.
    ‘What about you?’ The man said.
    ‘Me?’
    ‘Don’t look so worried, lass. I’m only foolin’ with you.’ He grinned. ‘The name’s Donald, and if you care to listen, I’ll give you some advice for free.’
    All traces of humour vanished from his weathered face, the transformation capturing her attention.
    ‘Tend his brother’s injuries well and you have naught to fear from the laird. Will’s a good man, but he’s had little to feel good about of late.’
    Donald’s kind eyes and gentle explanation eased her fears somewhat. She’d come here to gain freedom for Thomas, and she’d succeeded. The cost of her success was two weeks of her time. It wasn’t such a vast interlude in her uneventful life. She believed she could uphold her end of the bargain with little fuss, so long as she avoided William Kirkpatrick as much as possible.
    A commotion from inside the stable entrance interrupted her musing.