“Marvelous!” Honoria announced. “You might even seek out a certain gentleman you’ve been pining over and give him a piece of your mind.”
“I have not pined,” Isla protested but continued on a sigh. “And what will I do if I find him? Heleft. I cannot lock him away in a tower. I ought to cast him from my mind if I only could.”
“Then we shall find you someone else, someone worthy of your affections. And if there is no man worthy of your affection, we shall find you the steamiest man in Scotland. To hell with Patrick Moray.”
“To hell with Patrick,” Isla agreed with a flash of teeth.
“Whether Lash agrees to escort us or not, we shall seek our destinies. I refuse to die an old maid having never left these walls. Let us hope that our brothers do not return before we can execute our plan.”
“’Tis when they eventually find us that worries me more.”
“Och, do not fret over that. If they do catch us, they will be too happy to have found us.”
“Your reasoning is utterly flawed.”
“Just the way I prefer it,” Honoria said with a smirk.
Hugh strode into the room, his expression dark with suspicion. His eyes flicked between them like a hawk surveying its prey. “What are the two of you plotting?”
Honoria turned to him innocently. “Whatever gave you the idea we are plotting?”
“You are my twin, Honoria; I am familiar with the signs of your scheming. I heard your mutterings when I passed in the hall and bet a bag of coins it’s about the behemoth occupying Callum’s bed.” His eyes narrowed on Honoria. “What are you planning?”
“I am not planning anything,” she protested. “Other than healing him.”
“That man is dangerous, lass.”
“As dangerous as a wee bairn,” Honoria agreed.
“Don’t forget you found him on a hill bleeding.” Hugh placed his hands on his hips. “How do you suppose he got here? That unicorns and fairies dropped him there by mistake?”
“Outlandish,” Honoria muttered.
“Hugh,” Isla murmured gently. “The man is injured, what scheming could Honoria possibly be up to?”
“When it appears the least,” his eyes flashed across hers, “it’s always the most.”
Honoria scoffed. “’Tis like you don’t know me at all.”
“’Tis like I know you too bloody well.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t so occupied with . . .” Isla turned to Honoria. “What is that dairymaid’s name?”
Honoria laughed when Hugh’s cheeks flushed. “Mary, I believe.”
“Aye, Mary.” Isla turned her sly smile to Hugh. “How is dear Mary?”
Hugh’s ears burned. “Ladies are not supposed to speak of such things!”
“And what things would that be?” Honoria asked sweetly.
He spluttered.
“Och, come now, Hugh, we are having a spot of fun,” Isla murmured.
Hugh scoffed. “Any news on the behemoth’s health?”
Honoria nodded. “He woke up for a while and finished a bowl of broth.”
She elaborated no further. The last thing she wanted was for Hugh to fly into a frenzy because the behemoth is Romany with a villain on his tail.
“Does the behemoth have a name or is he purposefully shrouding himself in mystery?”
If only Hugh knew.
“His name is Lash.” Honoria’s lips curved. “Hardly a name that inspires the plague.”
