Part 15 (1/2)
Alex shook his head, turning partly away from her. ”My brother's loyalties are divided. Ridley is his brother-in-law, and though he doesn't trust him, he will not jeopardize the peace or his marriage.”
Fayth was silent, wondering why he told her these things. Did he want her to understand why he kept her prisoner? Perhaps his reason was a valid one, from a border perspective, but she couldn't help him. She had to find Mona.
He turned back to her, giving her a narrow look. ”Skelley told me who you were asking after. Sir Patrick. You're his son, eh? My nephew... What is this fiction? What business have you with Patrick? Or is it your stepmother, the witch, you seek?”
The urge to gnaw her fingernails with worry was great, but she kept her fists balled at her side. Should she tell him? It was her first impulse-to trust him. And she heeded her first impulses far too often, mistaking them for some kind of silly intuition. But trusting him was folly. No, she must think this through.
”What is your business, la.s.sie? The same business you went to Annancreag for? The same business responsible for the death of Annan Maxwells?” When still she didn't answer, he shrugged. ”It matters not since you won't be able to complete your business. Perhaps, in time, you'll decide you want to share your purpose.”
In time. She didn't like the sound of that. A desperate, clawing urge to be away gripped her. She couldn't stand being confined. Being kept. ”What will you do with me?”
”You'll travel with me to Gealach as my prisoner-my male prisoner, until Carlisle agrees to sell me the land.”
Her lips curled in disgust. Just what she needed, another man deciding her fate. ”What makes you think Carlisle wants me that badly?”
He grunted, but didn't answer. He took her cap from the ground and dropped it back onto her head. ”So? What shall I call you? Mickle? Wee lad? Fair Willie?”
He tried to tuck her hair beneath the cap but she slapped his hands away. ”Hugh.”
He stepped back, a look of mock surprise on his face. ”Named for your father, eh? The great Hugh Graham... hmm, well, let us leave off the Graham, lest it cause bloodshed in my camp. And despite what you believe, I want you whole, laddie. What say, Hugh Bell?”
”Bell?” she spat. ”I'm no Scot!”
”You're a Graham, and therefore part Scot, by my calculations.”
”I only claim the English half-the better half.”
He laughed again, his eyes nearly dancing. He found her delightfully amusing-that much was clear. It made her itch to scratch his eyes from their sockets.
She looked away. ”They think I'm your nephew... so I must be a Maxwell.”
He burst out laughing. ”Oh-I'd forgotten that!” He laughed so hard his eyes streamed. He bent over, clutching his side.
”It's not that funny,” she said, scowling at him.
”Oh, aye-it is. It really is.”
”My sister is now a Maxwell. It's not as if it couldn't happen.”
His laughter died and his gaze turned speculative. A sharp knock sounded on the outside of the s.h.i.+eling, then Laine poked his head in. ”Sir? Is aught amiss?”
”No, no,” Alex said, looking away from her finally and wiping his eyes. ”Please, feed my nephew. He's to be under constant guard, but extend him every courtesy due a Maxwell guest.” He flashed her a wide, white smile. ”I cannot have you question my hospitality.”
He caught her arm before she reached the door. ”If you try to run, I'll break your leg.”
Fayth jerked her arm away and he laughed again. She saw Laine's guarded look and knew the boy had heard Alex's threat.
Alex's voice rang out over her head, loud enough for the entire camp to hear, though he was speaking to the boy. ”He's a fast one, see that he doesn't get away.”
Fayth followed Laine out, glad to be away from Alex's infuriating presence. He was unbearable! How could he see any humor in this awful situation? But, of course, she was his prisoner, at his mercy. He could afford to laugh.