Highland Protector by Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online Page A

much. If what Ilsabeth told him was true, it was very daring of the man to come to court so soon after committing the murder of the king’s cousin and throwing around false accusations. He must have left not long after Ilsabeth had. It would have been wiser to stay close to his home until the suspicions against the Armstrongs had hardened.
    Simon nearly grimaced in disgust over the way the man played the stunned, embarrassed, and heart-bruised betrothed who had been betrayed and used by his love. It was all an act. Simon was certain of it. Unfortunately, his certainty did not mean the man was guilty of all Ilsabeth said he was. It just meant that Sir Walter knew how to play with the sympathies of the courtiers who clung to the king’s court in the hope of some favor.
    One other thing that Simon was now certain of was that Sir Walter Hepbourn thought himself far and above any Armstrong. The man’s distaste for that clan wove around and through every word he spoke. After two days of watching the man, however, that was the only suspicious thing Simon had discovered. Why, if Hepbourn so utterly despised the Armstrongs, had the man betrothed himself to one of the clan’s daughters? Ilsabeth’s explanation was the only one that made sense, but he would not accept that as fact just yet.
    It was another puzzle, however. The more Simon sought out the truth, one he now confessed to himself he was eager to find so that his attraction to Ilsabeth was no longer a danger to himself, the more puzzles he came across. He did not find it all that difficult to believe that Hepbourn would do all Ilsabeth said he had and Simon knew that was one small step toward uncovering the truth needed to prove she was innocent.
    “Psst! Simon! O’er here.”
    As covertly as he was able, Simon moved toward the shadowed alcove that sibilant command had come from. He had the strong feeling that not all the Murrays had disappeared from court. Either that or they had sent a friend and ally few in the court would associate with their clan or the Armstrongs. Yet the man had called him Simon, an informality that implied a close relationship. Once within the alcove, Simon studied the man who had called to him. Even in the deep shadows he could see enough to know who faced him now.
    “I dinnae think it is wise for ye to be here now, Tormand,” Simon said, shifting so that he could keep a close eye upon all the other people in the hall.
    “How did ye ken it was me?” Tormand asked, his annoyance over the easy recognition clear to hear in his voice. “I thought myself weel disguised.”
    “Smearing something white in your beard and hair and wearing ugly clothing isnae a verra good disguise, leastwise nay to one who kens ye as weel as I do. Nor, I suspect, to the many women here who kenned ye verra weel indeed ere ye got married. And how is dear Morainn?”
    Tormand cursed softly. “Fine. Healthy. The bairns are healthy. Is Ilsabeth safe?”
    “Safe enough. She is secure within my home.”
    “Secure as in safe? Or secure as in imprisoned?”
    The thread of anger in Tormand’s voice told Simon he was right to think that trying to prove Ilsabeth innocent could become very complicated. He had several close friends amongst the Murrays and they were a very closely bound family, their loyalty and affection stretching out to even the most distant cousin. If he could not save Ilsabeth, or he decided she was guilty, Simon knew he could destroy friendships, even make a few enemies.
    “Ye would rather I had sent her to the king?”
    “Curse it, Simon, that lass didnae kill that mon nor would Cormac have anything to do with treason.”
    “Ye ken Ilsabeth weel, do ye?” “Nay weel, but I do ken her. I also ken Cormac. He has spent his life trying to scrub away the stain his parents left on their name. He wouldnae toss aside a life’s work or endanger his own child.”
    Simon did not think so either, but men had done stranger things. Fathers did not always have