“Look me in the eyes, Keegan, and tell me if ye still believe I am nae speaking in earnest.”
He did. He looked at her, and Willow couldfeelhis stare penetrate her very soul. Men like this, Lairds and war chiefs and even the few British soldiers she’d seen, they possessed the skill to read a person within moments, and again, Willow found herself jealous.
Please, Keegan. Just accept the bloody truth, ye cunning bastard.
Keegan stilled, and there was something about his expression that changed, shifted. He wasn’t looking at her as if she were tricking him. There was no suspicion there. Wait, no. That wasn’t right. He was interested in something that Willow might not be saying, but it wasn’t about her brother and his lack of care.
He was studying her for something else.
“Why have ye told me this? I ken that ye wish to keep the exchange moving smoothly for yer own sake, but it cannae only be that and the fate of yer men.”
And there it was, the question from the laird that she knew to expect and still didn’t quite have a complete answer for. Willow’s stomach clamped down as the truth bubbled up inside her. She would not be addressing it. It was a flute, a silly matter of circumstance.
She needed only to convince the man that she spoke honestly about the ambush and get him to adjust his plans. That was all. That was everything there was to this. There was no secretagenda, and she certainly wasn’t hiding her reason for telling him about this.
Willow swallowed, the apprehension and nervousness billowing up inside her like a rising volcano.
Come now, Willow. Hold it together. There isn’t anything else going on here.
But her eyes fell to Keegan’s mouth, and she worried immediately that her fate that evening had already been sealed.
14
The lass was hiding something from him; Keegan was sure of it. As he stared her down, he could see that Willow was cracking under the pressure of his intense gaze, as intended.
“Speak, lass. Why have ye decided to tell me about this so close to the exchange date? It occurs in three days. What is yer great goal for all this?”
Willow pulled a lungful of air into her, her head pitching back slightly before she met his eyes again with a practiced smile.
“I told ye, Keegan.” She nodded, increasing the power of her grin. “I wish to protect me men, and furthermore, I wish to protect me sister. Surely, ye are aware of what that feels like. Lilith is me family. I cannae see her harmed.”
Keegan narrowed his eyes, smirking as he took a step forward. “Why would yer sister be at the exchange? Is Magnus the typeto bring each of his family members into battle? I havenae see either of ye there before.”
The shock of being caught in a slight falsehood played over Willow’s face.
“I—”
“Before ye speak, lass,” Keegan cut in, “ye should ken that I can sense this isnae the entire truth. There is something to it, aye. I ken ye care for yer men and yer sister. Of that, I have no doubt. But ye havenae said the whole of yer motivations. Now have ye?”
Willow’s eyes were wide, a doe caught before the hunter at the wrong end of his bow. She blinked rapidly, fidgeting on her feet as if she wished to avoid what was racing through her mind—through her body.
Keegan’s attention was suddenly split. In truth, he admired what Willow was doing, and her bravery…it did something to him. He’d managed to keep his distance from Willow for a time now, and it had been an incredible challenge. Now, now that they were in this room alone together once more, that heat in his blood was impossible to ignore.
“I daenae ken what ye’re talkin' about, Laird Brahanne. If ye willnae be accepting me information, I shall see meself back to me room.”
Willow attempted to turn away, but Keegan snatched her arm, not roughly but firmly enough to keep her in place.
“Ye will be tellin' me what concerns ye so much about the archers in the field. Yer own men would be safe from them, and yer sister willnae be there. Are ye concerned for yer own safety?”
He cocked a brow, studying Willow intently. So much, in fact, that he would notice even the slightest flicker of emotion play over her face. Frustration, anger, self-preservation, he expected to see all that. What the laird did not expect to see was Willow’s resignation about her own life.
“Of course, I am concerned about makin' it out of the exchange alive.”
Willow’s tone was even, but there was a slight hollowness to her voice. She only cared so far as anyone might. It was not her motivation. She had not offered up the nugget of truth he sought.
“That isnae it. I can tell. Are ye concerned for the men of Brahanne Castle? Have ye grown a fondness over the past few days to those like Rodrick?”
A flash of something washed across her face, and Willow’s stare darted to the floor and then the door before landing on him again. He was getting closer to the heart of the matter.