He didn’t know where that had come from—except the warnings in his head.
Now she really looked alarmed. Her eyes were more golden-brown than Malcolm blue. So maybe he had it wrong. Or maybe the idiot offering the reward did.
“I am no heiress,” she said with venom.
He’d best beware of bee stings.
He nodded, accepting her declaration. “And you’re a Malcolm living in Wystan, so that makes you doubly safe from me. As one of my tenants, you are protected. Why run?”
She narrowed her pretty eyes in suspicion. “I smelled your interest in the reward. It’s a fortune.”
He considered that. “You smelled my avarice?”
“And your lust,” she added. “You should have chosen Lady Alice for your attentions.”
Ouch. She knew he lusted after her? That was a trifle humiliating but nothing unexpected in his family. He wanted to ask if she lusted after him, but that was asking for a slap. “I’m civilized,” he insisted, wondering if that was the truth. He wanted her—very badly, in all sense of the phrase. “I can control myself. Curiosity, unfortunately, is my besetting sin. Who do you flee?”
“My stepfather and the hapless fool he wants me to marry.” With resignation, she turned to face the hives again. “My queen understands. If you’ll have someone treat her with respect, I’ll try to pay you back, but I’m in no position for promises.”
“I told you, you are safe here,” he said with a trace of the anger he usually hid.
“No, I’ll never be safe as long as my stepfather lives. I don’t suppose you could loan me a pistol?” She rose and brushed off her skirt.
The restless unease Iona had suffered since dinner only escalated with the earl’s presence. Despite his outward aloofness—or perhaps because of it—she found him much too attractive, and his offer of shelter weakened her defenses. Now that he knew her secret, though, she itched to escape. Men had a bad habit of taking control without understanding the complexity of a situation.
“No, I will not loan you a pistol,” the earl said firmly, standing and tugging her hand through the crook of his arm as if they were going into dinner. “Killing people isn’t a solution.”
“Of course it is,” she replied belligerently, because she was terrified, angry, and reacting to his desire like any foolish woman. And he was behaving like every other man in the universe—taking charge without understanding. “If a man attacks me, I am helpless against his strength unless I have a weapon.”
The earl’s proximity didn’t help clear her thinking. She was actually thinking about kissing him! She longed to know what it would be like to be kissed by an attractive man who actually desired her. She tried to tug her hand away but his hold was solid.
“You’ll be worse than helpless if they send you to prison. The better solution is not to put yourself in jeopardy. I could have been an itinerant stranger just now. Perhaps you should learn to make friends with the dog. At least he’d be some protection.”
She frowned and kicked a clod of dirt. “I never had pets. My stepfather’s half-starved hounds were trained to kill prey, not defend.”
“The Earl of Craigmore, you mean?”
She shot him a look of fury. “My grandfather was the earl. The pig who uses the title now does so without authorization.”
“That’s not possible,” he said in a tone of patience and authority. “Parliament would never give him patent if he could not prove his right to it.”
“He married my mother, who by right of patent inherited her father’s title. Everyone assumes she petitioned for the scoundrel to have the title as she did for my father. She did not. Since Mortimer hasn’t the coin to go to London and vote, no one cares. The locals prefer dealing with a man instead of a woman. No one wants a countess giving orders.” She didn’t even try to hide her bitterness.
She had to leave. She’d never see the earl again. She could spill her anger freely without consequence. Years of holding her tongue, of hiding who she was, boiled to a froth. It felt good to release a little of her pent-up fury and anguish.
“Ah, now I see the problem,” he said without surprise at her heat. “The Scots should never have allowed women to assume titles. It confuses too many issues, as evidenced by your predicament. Had the title simply died without issue—”
The moonlight and his closeness were having a dangerous effect. It was a good thing he made her too angry to react. “The Crown would have claimed the land after my grandfather died. My mother’s title protected our family trust.”
“Things are different now,” he said in that same annoying, patronizing tone. “A man can own the land and pass it on to whomever he wishes without the crown’s interference.”
They were back in the courtyard. As much as she might hope he’d help her, she knew better than to expect a man to go out of his way. And really, there was little he could do. “Different now didn’t help my mother then. Short of shooting my stepfather, it doesn’t help me either. I thank you for your hospitality, my lord. I won’t impose on it much longer.” She tugged her hand free of his arm and started for the house.
To her alarm, he caught her arm and held her back. “Don’t be a stubborn fool. Where can we go to talk privately, without my interfering relations developing the wrong ideas?”
Anxious as she was, it took Iona a moment to grasp his request. When it dawned that he feared being implicated in a romantic entanglement with her, she almost smiled at his predicament. She had only to stand on her toes and kiss him, and the nuptials would be practically sealed. The ladies would see to it. No wonder he practiced indifference and avoided Lady Alice.
“You cannot relax and have a conversation with any
