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who wisely fled I did not recognize.”
    Merry did not follow the red herring. “Lord Lindsay?” she pressed him, and was certain she detected a flash of irritation in his eyes this time.
    “Aye.”
    Mentally Merry quickly reviewed what little she knew of the Lindsay clan. She knew they were Highlanders, a warlike race, and held the power of pit and gallows far removed from English influence. Indeed, far removed was this dark wolf from his Highland lair.
    She wondered what lured a reluctant Scot into distant Welsh territory, and knew the answer when she glanced at the forlorn-looking Gilbert Lindsay. She mused upon the likelihood that she had already met Ranald Lindsay’s sire at Court; it seemed this noble stature and proud bearing were very familiar.
    “Perhaps I have—”
    “I doubt it.” He cut her off so abruptly, Merry was both stunned and insulted. Her temper flared as her little hand clutched tight the brooch, and she struggled to remain both civil and calm.
    “Milord Lindsay,” she began again, but much more firmly, so he might realize she would not brook another interruption. “I was en route to Whitehall, where I serve the queen. This shocking occurrence has quite upset my plans. I was already in Her Grace’s disfavor for lingering err long at my sister’s home.”
    “Then mayhap you should have hastened back to London sooner, Mistress Tanner.”
    Merry could not restrain a gasp at his words. How dare this … this Highland oaf twist the circumstances to somehow blame her for the mishap!
    “I will have you know, the queen shall hear of this outrage,” she said, not entirely bluffing but also looking to get a reaction of some sort from the steely, reserved man. “When Her Majesty considers your brother’s punishment, I pray she is more kindly disposed than I.”
    She saw a flicker of something in the dark eyes. “I will deal with Gilbert, milady. Stay out of it.”
    “Indeed and I will not, milord. How am I to be assured he shall receive any chastisement at all? You mistake my nature if you think I shall let matters slide and trust you to deal with the aftermath.”
    This time, she did get a reaction. His jaw seemed to tighten and his dark eyes were hard as flint upon her flushed face. “I advise you not to pursue matters further, Mistress Tanner. Especially where my family is concerned.”
    “I see. Then perhaps I should let you explain to my betrothed why I did not arrive as planned at Court, and you may deal with Sir Wickham’s ire yourself!”
    Something shifted in those dark, dark eyes, something so fleeting Merry was certain she imagined it.
    “Wickham … of the Carlisle Wickhams?”
    Merry nodded curtly. If nothing else, perhaps this ill- tempered Scottish lout would be impressed by her betrothed’s status and humbly beg her apology. She almost snorted then. Nay, not this one. He enjoyed his lofty superiority far too much.
    To her surprise, Ranald Lindsay smiled, a slow and rather impressive smile that made her heartbeat quicken despite her anger. Faith, Merry thought, but he was a toothsome fellow when he smiled, when those dark eyes betrayed something besides impatience or indifference. She had no reason to suspect his smile was anything other than a sudden change of heart toward her plight.
    “Of course, you must allow me to personally escort you to Sir Wickham’s residence,” he informed her, and ignored the startled glance of Gilbert Lindsay who was listening but paces away.
    “If you please, milord, I should prefer to return to Court and placate Her Grace first,” Merry said, though she was touched by his offer, grudging as it must be. Perhaps Ranald Lindsay was not such a coldly deliberate man as she had first assumed. To be certain, he could charm a lady when he wished, and she offered him a small smile by way of gratitude.
    His gaze met hers, never wavering. Merry felt suddenly breathless, and raised her right hand to her throat without thinking.
    “What have you there,