Lord of the Black Isle by Elaine Coffman Page A

lain awake with the memory of her uncovered leg during the night they spent in the cave and what agony it had been to lie beside her and have her not.
    Duncan laughed. “Weel, I ha’ plenty o’ time to hear yer tale aboot the lass. Mayhap ye can tell me later.”
    David continued to stare at her, recalling the achingly familiar face, for even when it was dirty, she was still a beauty. He longed to touch her auburn hair, rich as golden sable. He said nothing, but he did wonder what she would do when she realized he was the one who had her brought to Aisling Castle.
    â€œâ€™Twas not a happy lass we had, ye ken, fer she wasna pleased aboot being hauled here like so much baggage, withoot a bath or a change o’ clothes, and at such a fast pace. Faith! I am in awe that the lass made it as far as Aisling afore she dropped like a stone from lack o’ sleep.”
    Duncan glanced toward the stairs. “Shall I carry her above stairs and let her sleep a while?”
    â€œNae, yer tired after such a trip yersel’. Go get some rest. Let me have the lass, and I will take her up to the room that has been readied for her.”
    Duncan wasn’t so tired that he couldn’t grin widely at the words his cousin uttered, so he raised his brows in a questioning manner and then laughed when his cousin paid him no mind.
    Ignoring Duncan, Lord Kinloss gathered Elisabeth into his arms and carried her up the stairs and down the long hallway, then paused long enough to nudge open the door to the room, which was next door to the room of his youngest sister, Ailis.
    The draperies were open and the afternoon sunlight was dropping below the windowsill. As he started across the room to place her upon the bed, she stirred and opened her eyes and said, calmly as ye please, “What are you doing here?”
    â€œI was aboot to ask ye the same question,” he replied. “Ye didna tell me ye were a healer.”
    He saw the dazed look of confusion upon her face as she looked around, as if she was trying to decide just where here was. Then her eyes narrowed and she asked, “Do you live here?”
    â€œAye, ’tis my home and I welcome ye to it.”
    She looked around with a suspicious frown. “Just who are you?”
    â€œDavid Murray, the 3rd Earl of Kinloss,” he replied as he leisurely absorbed the perfect beauty of her dirty face. He had regretted not taking more time to deliver her to Soutra Aisle, and after he left her, he had the devil’s own time getting her off his mind. And now, like a gift from the gods, she was in his arms, and he could not think of a better place for her to be.
    â€œThe Earl of Kinloss? You are an earl?”
    â€œAye, since the death of my father, the 2nd Earl of Kinloss.”
    She yawned and he could see she was trying to stay awake. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    â€œI did not think it important at the time, just as ye did not think it important to tell me of yer past.”
    â€œSo, what am I supposed to call you?” she asked. “Your Majesty?”
    He detected no contempt or scorn in her tone, so he supposed she truly did not know. He smiled. “Nay, I am no that high on the peerage charts. An earl is addressed as a lord, or in my case, Lord Kinloss, or Lord David Murray, Earl of Kinloss, or the Earl of Kinloss, or simply Kinloss.”
    â€œI will never get that straight,” she said, thinking she would refer to him as “your brother” or “your cousin” or “the earl.” Then she let that ride to get on to more important things. “Are you the one who ordered those knights to haul me away from the hospital?”
    â€œAye, although I understand yer discomfort, my sister is gravely ill. My cousins did deliver a letter signed by the abbot of Fearn Abbey, asking fer ye to be released unto my care,” he said. “I had hoped that would allay any fears ye had.”
    â€œI was still