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hesitantly and then reluctantly nodded. “If ye are sure.”
    Liadain took his arm because she was too shaken to walk on her own accord. She needed time to absorb that Robert was presently here—alive. She had often inquired about him to Archie, but her brother had brushed off her words. Her thoughts continued to race wildly.
    Robert, Viscount Cranborne, was now at court. What were the odds? She would be bound to encounter him again. What would she say? What would he say, for that matter?
    MacGregor chuckled. “Lass, ’tis obvious something troubles ye.”
    His voice brought her back to reality. “My apologies. ’Tis naught, truly. I thank ye for escorting me. I really needed the fresh air.”
    He raised his brow and gave her a questioning glance. “I think I know ye well enough to know when something is amiss. Do ye want to speak upon it? I am a good listener, or so I have been told.”
    Unsettled, Liadain shook her head. “Nay, I donna, but thank ye,” she said, giving him a forced smile. She stole a quick glance at him and hoped he was not aware of her discomfiture. One thing was for certain. MacGregor was not an idiot.
    ***
    That was interesting. How did the healer know Viscount Cranborne? Perhaps through the bloody Campbell. That would certainly explain the association, but there was indisputably something more to the story than the lass was willing to reveal. If her actions were any indication, she was distraught upon seeing Cranborne in the garden. No matter, Declan was convinced the truth would eventually come to light. It always did.
    She bit her lip yet again, something he recognized as being her habit when she was ill at ease. In an attempt to ease her distress, he decided to change the topic. “Lass, there are many arriving at court this day for the celebration. I donna want ye unattended. I will be your escort this eve.”
    She glanced up at him and raised her brow. “Are ye asking me or are ye telling me?”
    He mocked the tone of her voice. “Are ye going to battle with me or just accept the inevitable?” Now his bonny healer was more like herself.
    Her eyes danced with amusement. “I would be honored if ye would escort me, MacGregor.”
    “Ye see, healer? ’Tisnae that difficult. It would be so much easier if ye would just do as ye are told from the start,” he said, exasperated.
    “But then I wouldnae have the pleasure of hearing ye bellow at me,” she jested, the glint of humor finally returning.
    “And I hope ye donna expect me to dance with ye this eve. I donna dance.” He enjoyed seeing the light come back into her eyes.
    “Then fortunate for me that I wasnae thinking of having ye as my partner.”
    Their gentle sparring was short lived when, out of the corner of his eye, Declan spotted a man walking toward them with long, purposeful strides.
    Damn. Cranborne.
    Immediately stiffening at his side, the healer slowed her steps. Cranborne moved toward them and the silence grew tight with tension.
    Cranborne studied them both and then stepped forward and gave an elaborate bow. “My lady.”
    Declan had to give his wily lass credit. She lifted her chin, meeting the man’s gaze straight on. “Viscount Cranborne, a pleasure to see ye again. Pray allow me to introduce ye—”
    “Declan MacGregor,” said Declan, giving him a slight bow of his head.
    “A pleasure.” Turning to the healer, Cranborne spoke softly. “I was wondering if I might have a private word with you.”
    She cast an unreadable expression. Declan would have been more than happy to return the favor she had just previously bestowed on him, but the choice was clearly hers. Raising his brow, he cocked his head slightly, giving the lass the opportunity to voice her opinion.
    She nodded in consent, but he was not foolish enough to leave her to face her demons alone. As she turned with Cranborne, Declan halted her with a firmly placed hand on her arm. “I will be over here if ye need me.” Casting a warning glance at