Adrienne Basso by How to Be a Scottish Mistress Page B

earl as our leader.”
    “Well, now, this noble earl stinks. I’m off to the loch to wash away the grime before the evening meal. Are ye coming?”
    “I’ll be along after I collect my winnings.”
    Gavin halted, frowning in puzzlement. “Ye lost our fight, Duncan. Ye’ll need to be paying off yer debts, not putting coin in yer pocket.”
    Duncan lowered his chin and for a moment Gavin thought the man was blushing. But that was impossible. Duncan was notoriously thick-skinned. Even the bawdiest tales brought little reaction from him.
    “Ye heard me right,” Duncan replied, a twinkle in his eyes. “I am indeed collecting my winnings today. I wisely followed the creed of every loyal Scot, even when I gamble.”
    “What creed?”
    “Never bet against yer laird.”
     
     
    It was much harder saying good-bye to Sir George than Fiona had expected. The knight had been allowed into the inner bailey, and the earl, dressed in fresh garments and sporting damp hair, escorted her through the defensive wooden palisade that surrounded it. Encircled by a contingent of Scots, many looking ready to strike at the mere hint of trouble, Sir George stood with quiet dignity and authority.
    “Five minutes, Lady Fiona,” the earl said softly. “Sir George and his men need to ride fer the border while there is still some daylight.”
    The words sounded far too much like a threat for Fiona’s liking, but she was not foolish enough to challenge the earl’s authority.
    Sir George stepped forward and Fiona did the same. The circle of Scots around them kept their distance and she felt grateful for the privacy.
    “I thank you, most sincerely, for all that you have done, Sir George, but the time has come for us to part. I release you from my service. May God protect you and keep you safe.”
    “Are you certain you wish to stay?” Sir George asked, his brows drawn together with concern.
    Fiona bit her lip to stop its trembling. The afternoon had gone by very slowly. Sitting in solitary silence in her chamber had given her far too much time to think. But she could not allow any of her doubts to show, for then Sir George might not leave, which would place his life in peril.
    “This is the only way to get what Spencer deserves,” she said.
    Sir George’s shoulders lowered and Fiona knew she had successfully made her point. With a dramatic flourish he dropped to one knee. “We shall meet again, my lady. Under far better circumstances, I assure you.”
    Fiona swallowed back her tears, refusing to mar the dignity of the moment by crying. The determination she witnessed in the knight’s eyes gave her courage. He would never forsake Spencer’s cause.
    “I pray that you are right, my friend.”
    Fiona extended her hand and Sir George rose to his feet. Looking over his shoulder, the knight locked his gaze on the earl. “If any harm comes to her or the boy while she is in your care, you’ll answer to me.”
    The words were boldly spoken, with a wealth of meaning infused in every one. Fiona flushed and turned to look at the earl. His eyes narrowed as he went very still. Fearful, she held her breath, but the men exchanged some kind of unspoken understanding and Sir George backed away without further incident.
    The tightness pressing against her chest increased as she watched the proud knight mount his horse and ride away. He had been a strong, constant support through all the pain and grief of the past year and she truly had no idea when she would once again set eyes upon him.
    She clenched her mouth and turned away, concentrating on keeping her emotions steady and even. She would not break down in front of this curious crowd of strangers, would not give them the pleasure of seeing her cry.
    Her jaw still tight, she walked to the earl’s side. He gave her a slight nod. Her heart skipped. Strange how this small gesture gave her a measure of comfort, made her feel less alone.
    For one impulsive moment she wanted to reach out, grab his hand and