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Davina’s heart had not ceased its erratic beating from the moment Sir Malcolm strode so boldly into the great hall as if it were his own, confidence and strength in each step. He carried an air of danger and a swagger of command that bespoke a man used to being in charge.

Accustomed to being obeyed.

His voice boomed—deep and low—when he spoke. The sound of it sent a shiver racing down her spine. The uneasiness she always felt whenever she was near a man came to life in her stomach and it took every ounce of courage she possessed to stand her ground.

Fidgeting nervously, Davina swept an errant strand of hair away from her face. Aunt Isobel gave her a sharp look, but the older woman’s gaze softened when she saw how badly her niece was trembling.

“Davina, go and tell Cook to prepare refreshments fer our guests,” Aunt Isobel commanded. “I’m sure Sir Malcolm and his men could do with a bit of food and drink to tide them over until the evening meal is served.”

“Ye are most kind, Lady Isobel,” Sir Malcolm replied. “My men and I are grateful fer yer hospitality.”

Davina could not help but admire the smooth tone Sir Malcolm used to deliver his subtle jab at the less than gracious reception he had received, as it made it impossible for her aunt to take offense.

After delivering the message to the cook, Davina took a few moments to collect her composure before returning to the great hall. As she entered, she saw that Aunt Isobel, Uncle Fergus, and Sir Malcolm were gathering at the high table.

Turning at her arrival, Sir Malcolm gave her a confident smile and politely offered his hand to assist her to her chair. Gulping back a protest, Davina glanced down worriedly at his extended, ungloved hands. They were large and well formed, with powerful fingers that boasted calluses and even a small scar on the top of one of his forefingers.

Determined to leap over this new hurdle, Davina sternly reminded herself that if she was ever going to conquer her fear of men, she had to find the courage to act normally when in their company. Sir Malcolm was simply being chivalrous—nothing more.

Yet as she watched his strong, masculine hand draw nearer to hers, Davina let out a small cry and pulled back, preventing any contact. Immediately ashamed of her skittish response, she risked a glance at Sir Malcolm, fearing that she had insulted him. But his face was devoid of any expression. ’Twas almost as though he was unaware of her actions, but of course, that was impossible.

Davina breathed a small sigh of relief, grateful he chose to ignore her odd behavior rather than comment upon it. Other men were not nearly as gracious, displaying open disdain whenever she revealed her nervous demeanor.

Hastily, she took her seat, then laced her fingers together to still their trembling. As two young pages brought platters of cold meat, bread, and cheese, along with pitchers of ale and wine, Davina deliberately slowed her breathing, hoping to release some of her pent-up anxiety.

She was dimly aware of the conversation between her aunt and uncle and Sir Malcolm swirling around her, but was too preoccupied to give it too much attention. That is, until her aunt cut to the matter at hand.

“I fear that Davina shall not be able to go with ye, Sir Malcolm, as she cannae travel without a maid,” Aunt Isobel suddenly declared.

Sir Malcolm abruptly ceased chewing a piece of coarse, brown bread and squinted at Aunt Isobel in understandable confusion. Davina was certain he believed this to be a woman’s problem and none of his concern. Truth be told, he was right.

“Naturally, accommodations shall be made for Lady Davina to bring her servant,” he replied graciously, wiping his fingers on the piece of cloth that hung like a swag from the edge of the table. “She may bring two women with her, if she desires.”

“There is not even one maid, let alone two, that can be spared,” Uncle Fergus grumbled.

“Aye, we’ve holiday preparations of our own to see to,” Aunt Isobel huffed. “All hands are needed here.”

The confusion on Sir Malcolm’s face deepened. Davina felt a jolt of pity for him, as he seemed at a total loss in how to solve this dilemma, or more importantly, why he was being presented with it at all.

“There are plenty of servants at McKenna Castle,” he said. “I’m certain my mother can arrange fer one of them to attend to Lady Davina’s needs while she is with us.”

“She is an unmarried lass,” Uncle Fergus stated emphatically. “A delicate, frail female. She cannae travel as the only woman in the company of so many men. ’Tis unthinkable!”

If her uncle believed Sir Malcolm would be thoroughly chastised by such a remark, he was in for a rude awakening. The handsome knight favored them with a haughty lift of his brow. “Lady Davina need not bring a servant. Any respectable female in yer clan can serve as her companion. My mother often travels in the same manner when she visits her relations.”

Uncle Fergus sputtered at the simple solution, yet could find no fault with it. Aunt Isobel looked as though she had taken a large sip of sour wine, but she too had no protest to offer.

“I shall ask Colleen,” Davina said slowly, speaking for the first time. “I believe that she would enjoy the change of scenery. She has been grieving mightily since her husband died this past spring.”

“A widow. Perfect.” Sir Malcolm favored Davina with a relieved smile and she felt a blush stinging her cheeks. “’Tis settled. We leave tomorrow, at first light. Now, if ye will excuse me, my men and I need to see to the care of our horses.”

The chair scraped noisily against the floor as Sir Malcolm stood. Uncle Fergus also rose.

“We will have a small chamber where ye may rest fer the night,” Uncle Fergus said. “The barracks are full, but yer men may sleep in the great hall.”

’Twas a rather beggarly offer of hospitality, but Sir Malcolm accepted it with a smile. Still, Davina could not help but wonder what he was truly thinking.

“I’ll see ye at the evening meal, Lady Davina.” He bowed, then turned and walked away.