My Valiant Knight by Hannah Howell

“Escaping?”
    “Oh, aye. I thought I would rush boldly from the keep and bound through the gates,” she replied, leaning against the tapestry-draped wall flanking one side of the narrow, winding stairs. “I feel assured I can do so without any of your score or more fighting men espying me. And ’twould be but a small challenge to outrun all your war-horses.”
    “A restless night clearly makes your tongue even sharper. ’Tis not a good day to be so clever. A few of us are not in the kindest of humors, after being roused from our beds in the middle of the night.”
    Ainslee ignored his remark, but inwardly grimaced with guilt. At one time during the long night she had feigned having a nightmare. It had seemed like a clever way to keep Michael from getting any rest until a concerned Gabel, his aunt, and young Elaine had also stumbled into the room. Lady Marie and her daughter had been all that was kind, but a gleam of suspicion had quickly entered Gabel’s sleep-softened eyes. Gabel had seen her caught in the throes of a real nightmare, and she knew she was not skilled enough to imitate it properly, especially since she woke from her nightmares with little memory of what she had said or how she had acted. She would never admit to such a deception, however.
    “Many pardons for being such a troublesome guest. Mayhaps it would be best if ye sent me back to Kengarvey.”
    “I think not,” he replied with a crooked smile. “What I will do is select a second guard for you, so that you can no longer weary the man so much so that he becomes less alert.”
    “As ye wish, m’laird,” she said, but silently cursed. Until Ronald was well she had not planned to try and escape, but now her little game to elude Michael could well have cost her any chance to flee. “I was about to go for a wee walk,” she murmured as she cautiously continued down the stairs, ignoring his wide grin as she nudged her way by him.
    “I insist upon joining you, m’lady,” he said as he hooked his arm through hers, tightening his grip when she tried to slip free, and ignoring the glare she sent him. “I should think you would be interested in what your father has replied to my ransom demands.”
    “I am surprised ye would feel ye could repeat his reply to a lady,” Ainslee drawled.
    She was not really sure she wanted to know what her irascible father had said. There were two ways he could respond to a ransom demand for her—with anger and numerous attempts to delay paying, or by telling Gabel to do as he pleased with her. Ronald believed her father would never simply cast her to the wolves, but she was not so confident of that. Her father had no love for her, and, since no match had ever been arranged for her, she was beginning to think he had no use for her either.
    Gabel laughed, but the thought of her father’s callousness killed his humor as quickly as her wry comment had roused it. The laird’s reply to the ransom demand revealed that Duggan MacNairn cared nothing at all for his daughter or her servant. There was only one captive the man had inquired about—the horse. Gabel hoped Ainslee was not too fond of the beast, for he had decided to keep it just to spit in MacNairn’s eye. It was a somewhat childish gesture, but eminently satisfying. His concern at the moment, however, was to tell Ainslee what response her father had made, yet not hurt her feelings. One glance into her wide eyes told him that he was probably trying to protect her from a truth she was already well aware of.
    “Your father’s language was somewhat belligerent.” Gabel ignored her soft snort of derision over his politely vague reply. “He is attempting to negotiate your price.”
    “If he refused to buy me back, ye need not fret about telling me so. I have long understood that I am not dear to my father’s heart. I canna be hurt by a truth I have already learned,” she lied, and prayed her appearance of outward calm could not be penetrated by Gabel’s