“What of you, John?” Snow asked. “What would your name be?”
“Giant,” Sorrell said, sending a grin his way. “No wait, it would be… Solitude.”
Snow looked toward the large blurry shadow that to her was John. “You don’t truly wish to be alone, do you?”
“He doesn’t like people,” Sorrell said.
“Someone must have hurt you badly to feel that way,” Snow said.
John understood why Sorrell called her angelic. He could hear the sadness in her voice for him. His hurt truly disturbed her.
“Did someone hurt you badly?” Sorrell more demanded than asked.
She sounded as though she was ready to go out and hunt the person down as she had done to Peter for her sister, and now here she was willing to do it for him.
Sorrell’s eye went to the shackle. “Does that shackle on your wrist have anything to do with it?”
“Shackle? You have a shackle on your wrist?” Snow asked. “May I touch it?”
John never let anyone touch it. It was personal to him, but somehow he didn’t mind if Snow touched it.
“May I take your hand?” he asked of Snow, and she hurried to stretch it out to him.
Her hand was as small as Sorrell’s, though somehow it seemed more delicate. He lifted it gently and placed it on the shackle attached to his wrist.
Snow ran her fingers over the thick, rough iron. “Does it hurt you?”
“Not anymore,” John said.
“You should rid yourself of it. You are free now,” Sorrell said, it disturbing to her to see it on him.
“One day, but not today,” John said, feeling he was yet to be entirely free.
Willow burst into the Great Hall. “Get James! Seth MacCannish and a troop of his warriors approach.
Chapter 5
“What is Seth MacCannish doing here? You told me it would be a few days before he paid a visit,” Sorrell demanded of James when he entered the Great Hall.
“I don’t know,” James said.
“I won’t see him. He can’t show up completely unannounced and expect me to be available to him,” Sorrell insisted.
“Sorrell is right,” Snow said. “It isn’t proper or considerate.”
“Whether proper or considerate, he’s here and we shall be hospitable,” James said, leaving them no recourse. “I will go greet him and give you time to collect yourself and receive him properly.”
Snow grabbed Sorrell’s arm to stop her from going after James. “Let him go,” she whispered. “We will think of something.”
“I should take my leave. There are more roofs to repair,” John said, not his place to be part of this. Though, he had the overpowering urge to remain in case Sorrell should need him, since she always seemed to, somehow, be in need of aid.
Sorrell stood. “I will go with you.”
“You can’t go with him. Your intended is here and you must meet with him,” Willow said.
“He should have sent word of his intentions,” Sorrell said. “Come, John, we have work to do.”
Willow approached her sister. “You know this will create a problem.”
Sensible.
Sorrell thought the name truly did fit her sister. She always looked to be reasonable and many times it had proven the wise thing to do, but not this time.
“I will not bend to Seth MacCannish’s whims,” Sorrell snapped sharply, leaving no doubt she meant it.
“You will have to meet with him sooner or later,” Willow said.
“Later will do,” Sorrell said and looked to John. “Follow me.”
He followed her through the narrow stone passageway to the kitchen, Dorrit sending him a grin as they passed through the kitchen and out the door.
“There’s a cottage near the woods whose roof needs immediate repair,” Sorrell said and led the way.
He wondered why if it needed immediate repair she hadn’t set him to the task earlier, but it was not for him to say. He went and gathered the thatch and the ladder and got busy, though he kept an eye on Sorrell. She paced alongside the cottage, peering out from around the side now and again.
“He’s speaking with your brother,” John said, leaning over the side of the cottage.
“Does he remain on his horse?”
“No, he has dismounted and he looks around as if—”
“Searching for me?”
“That would be my guess,” John said and watched in the distance. “I think you may have a problem.”
“Why?” Sorrell asked anxiously.
“Melvin just staggered over to James and Seth and he’s pointing in my direction.”
“The little weasel. He’s getting his revenge on me.”
John didn’t agree. “He probably thinks he’s being helpful and it will get him in your good graces.”
“That would take a miracle,” Sorrell said and hurried to the ladder, hoisting the hem of her garments as she prepared to climb it.
“What are you doing?” John demanded.
“I’m coming up there by you. If Seth comes this way, I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”
“You’re not coming up here. It’s too dangerous,” John said in a command more suited to a lord of a clan than a peasant.