The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch) by Amanda Scott

the rub until now, aye,” Lina admitted. “Sithee, I feared you might reveal this secret to Dougal if you thought that telling him might help us.”
    “I would not tell that villain
anything
,” Lizzie said fiercely. “If he were on fire, I would not spit on him, let alone give him water enough to save himself.”
    Amused despite herself by the vision Lizzie’s angrywords produced, Lina said, “Then I’ll tell you. Do you remember the peat man who came the first night?”
    “Aye, sure,” Lizzie said, frowning. “How could anyone forget him?”
    “He is the proof that people know where we are.”
    Glancing at the door, Lizzie leaned closer. “How can you know that?”
    “Because I know him,” Lina said. She explained, omitting her usual opinion of Sir Ian’s recklessness and letting his actions speak for themselves.
    When she finished, Lizzie stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape.
    Lina waited for the bitter reproaches she expected to hear.
    Lizzie said in a low but vibrant tone, “How brave of him! Oh, Lina, don’t you think he must be the bravest man who ever lived to do such a thing?”
    Easily controlling any desire to agree with that statement, Lina said dryly, “I fear I am too practical to see such behavior as aught but dangerous, Liz. I am sure that Sir Ian will be pleased that you think he is brave, though.”
    “But he must be! Had he not done that, how could anyone else
ever
have learned where we are?”
    “You forget our gillie, Peter Wylie. Peter must have had the good sense to ride to Dunglass and tell the Colquhouns what happened to us.”
    “Perhaps,” Lizzie said. “But it was Sir Ian who came to see us for himself.”
    “Aye, he did do that,” Lina agreed, aware that the strange sensations that often accompanied her thoughts of Ian warmed her as she spoke of him. “I suspect hecould not resist the challenge,” she added firmly. “But remember, Lizzie, you must not mention even the
name
Colquhoun whilst we are here. If Dougal or James Mòr should learn that the Colquhouns might aid us, they’ll surely stop them.”
    “I won’t say a word,” Lizzie promised. She fell silent again, and her face grew so solemn that Lina nearly asked what she was thinking.
    She finished her meal in silence instead and had her reward when Lizzie said reluctantly, “In troth, Lina, had you told me that before, I
might
have told Dougal.” She paused as if she expected comment, but Lina just cocked her head a little.
    Grimacing, Lizzie added, “You were right about him. But I was so sure I was right that, had I known, I…” Pausing, she added in a rush, “I might have tried to scare him by telling him the Colquhouns would save us. Do you think they can?”
    “I know Sir Ian well enough to know that he will try. But I also know the laird and your brother Mag, Liz. They are more practical than Ian is, and the plain truth is that this castle is the most invincible in Scotland. That Sir Ian was able to slip in and out is one thing. An army trying to do so would certainly fail.”
    “I know,” Lizzie said with a sigh. “But it is nicer to hope that an army may come than to fear that only Dougal MacPharlain will.”
    Lina wished she could agree that thinking about either of those options would be helpful. The trouble was that, despite her practical nature, her hopes had fixed themselves on Sir Ian. She prayed that, for once, he would put his daring to a truly useful purpose. Even so, every timethe tantalizing mental image of his rescuing them arose, she rebuked herself for her hypocrisy.
    It might be different, she decided, had she dwelt on Ian’s looks alone, for he had grown to be a tantalizingly handsome man, certainly far handsomer than Dougal MacPharlain would ever be. How Lizzie could think… But Lizzie had seen Ian only as the raggedy peat man and did not know him, she reminded herself. In any event, to be making such comparisons was as hypocritical as the rest.

    The rain penetrated the