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boldly putting herself in his path when he would’ve started pacing again. “I am not blinded bygolden torques and beringed fingers, raiments adorned with jewels.
    “Nor do I care for arrogance.” She put her hands on her hips, her determination and wit beginning to delight him as much as her other, more obvious charms. “I do not trust Sir John’s smile. I’m also not fond of his eyes.
    “Such things are more telling than words.” She flipped back her hair. “That is why I asked a trusted servant to befriend those working in the castle kitchens. Such people often know more about a person’s true nature than anyone sitting at the high table.”
    “Is that so?”
    “I believe you know that it is.”
    “Indeed, I do.” Sorley squelched the smile tugging at his lips.
    The last thing he wanted was for her to guess how much he admired her good sense. Most ladies at court fawned all over Sir John Sinclair.
    It scarce mattered that the noble’s underhanded dealings and treachery had cost him lands and wealth. Or that he’d also lost esteem in the eyes of a few. Those worthies who looked beyond Sinclair’s slick, oiled hair and handsome face; the shining mail and lavish clothes he favored. Somehow he managed to dress himself extravagantly even when reputed to have lost much of his coin.
    Despite it all, he stayed within the bounds allowed him, craftily avoiding royal wrath.
    By comparison, Sorley wasn’t half as skilled at self-preservation.
    He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably aware that he couldn’t possibly keep hiding how appealing he found Lady Mirabelle.
    He wanted to despise her.
    As if she sensed his approaching capitulation, she came forward, her bewitching perfume floating with her. Thefragrance swirled about him, teasing and tempting him, the delicate rose scent forming a trap more inescapable than bars of hot-forged iron.
    “So you agree?” She stopped right before him, so near he couldn’t breathe.
    “I share your opinion of Sinclair.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
    She pounced, the flare of hope in her eyes almost persuading him. “If he believes I am no longer—”
    “Sweet lass, I regret spoiling your plans, but they won’t work. No’ with Sinclair.” His voice hardened just thinking of the man. “A woman’s purity matters naught to him. He isn’t a fastidious sort. No’ in that regard.”
    “Perhaps not,” she agreed. “But he is fiercely proud.”
    “No’ that proud.” Sorley let his gaze again dip to her breasts. Looking up again, he smoothed the backs of his fingers down her cheek, brushed his thumb over the corner of her lips. “If he wants you, which isn’t surprising, he’ll no’ leave you be until he’s had you.
    “And there’ll be hell to pay if you resist him.” Sorley knew it well. “John Sinclair is no’ a man you’d wish to rile, my lady.”
    “If you help me, that won’t be necessary.”
    “Have you Heiland bog cotton in your ears, lass? Sinclair won’t care a whit if you’re soiled or pure. Not that lecherous bastard.”
    To Sorley’s surprise, she glanced aside, color once again blooming on her cheeks. When she looked back at him, he could almost feel the embarrassment rolling off her. But she stood tall, her shoulders straight and her head raised. Whatever her faults—and he knew she had them—her courage delighted and fascinated him.
    She moistened her lips. “My servant also asked around about you.”
    Sorley’s brow went up. “Is that so?”
    “It was necessary.” She held his gaze, her voice strong. “I learned there’s bad blood between you and Sir John. If you help me, you’d benefit as well.”
    Sorley almost choked. “Any man would enjoy taking you to his bed.”
    He just wasn’t that man.
    “Aside from the obvious”—he gripped her chin, his gaze fierce—“how would such an association favor me?”
    “It is known at court that Sir John reviles you as much as you dislike him.” She