"Och!" Roy piped in. "'Twill be a cold day in hell a'fore a Maxwell—"
Gabrielle glared the man into silence, then quickly shifted her attention back to Connor. She was getting through to him on some level, she could sense it, yet why couldn't she make him see reason on the most crucial aspect of what she was trying to convey, that the Maxwell/Douglas feud had to end? Surely there must be some way to convince him that the important issue wasn't who made the first gesture in that direction, but the end result of it: a cessation of bloodshed and peace—nay, at this point she'd settle for reluctant tolerance!—between the rival clans?
Surely there must be a way to make even a man as single-minded and stubborn as The Black Douglas understand the importance of her reasoning. But how?
An idea occurred to her. It wasn't a brilliant one, but it was the only one she had. Tilting her chin up, Gabrielle glanced at Connor from down the length of her nose and said, "Only two hours ago you accused me of running away. Now who is doing the running, m'lord? Which of us is truly the coward?"
The barb had its desired effect. Connor's eyes narrowed and an angry red hue suffused his brow and cheeks. The muscle in his jaw ticked harder. "'Tis ne'er cowardly to fight."
"Mayhap. However, 'tis most cowardly to refuse to perform a simple conciliatory gesture when the occasion arises. Especially when your sole reason is that you're much too childish to be the one to take the first step toward peace."
"Beware, lass," he hissed. "Yer sharp tongue has ye treading on ver thin ground."
"Is that so? And if I refuse to shush? What do you propose to do about it, sir? Turn your blade on me and extract silence by spilling my blood? That does seem to be your natural way of settling disputes, does it not?" Gabrielle gulped; for a flickering instant Connor looked as though he intended to do exactly that. Thankfully the moment passed. She sucked in a relieved gulp of musty-smelling night air.
"This conciliatory gesture," Connor said, and the flaring of his nostrils suggested the words were uttered with great reluctance. "What would it be?"
Her gaze shifted between Roy and Connor, settling finally on the former, who was watching her with grim amusement. "Release Roy Maxwell. Let him ride back to Caerlaverock unharmed and let him bring Siobhan back with him."
"Nay!" Connor's dark, thick brows drew together and his expression grew stormy.
"Aye!" she countered just as hotly. "What better way to show the Maxwells that the feud is over, that you'll shed no more blood over it, than to provide him with such an outstanding peace offering?" Her attention turned to Roy before Connor had time to answer. "Would such a gesture not sway your father, even a little bit, to consider ending this senseless fighting?"
Roy shrugged uncertainly, his expression bewildered as he scratched at the underside of his bearded chin. It would seem the idea of ending the feud was not something he'd seriously contemplated... until now. His lips pursed, and the glint in his green eyes evinced that the suggestion was not unappealing. "I cannot say," he admitted after a thoughtful pause. "Howe'er, considering how me da feels about Siobhan—Och! but his feelings for the lass and her cooking be a fine muckle strong!—methinks returning her would be a grand start. Johnny Maxwell wouldn't argue with the gesture, for certain."
The smile that had been tugging at the corner of Gabrielle's lips now blossomed as she returned her gaze to Connor. "Well?" she prompted. "Do you not think 'tis at least worth a try?"
"Mayhap," Connor replied with a vague shrug.
"If you'll not do it for your clan, then do it for me. You once said you'd do anything if I but asked..."
Connor groaned. "Dinny say it, lass. Please."
"Don't you see, Connor? I have to." Gabrielle hesitated, licked her lips nervously, wondered if perhaps she'd pushed the matter too far, then just as quickly decided it was too late to drop the matter now. The subject of ending the feud had been broached, a suggestion as to how to end it had been offered... nay, fear of The Black Douglas's reputed temper aside, the matter was simply too important to her not to pursue. Her fingers loosened, trembled slightly as her open palm stroked the hard muscles of his upper arm. "I'm begging you, let Roy go. Take the first step in ending this feud by sending Siobhan back with him."
"Do ye ken what yer asking of me, Gabby?"
"Aye, I do." She nodded firmly. "I'm asking far less of you than Elizabeth asked of me."
"A feud generations strong does not just end so easily, not merely by returning a ... a cook."
"I'm not so foolish as to think it will. What I am is smart enough to realize that the feud will not end at all if one family does not stop the fighting. M'lord, you vowed a few moments ago that you would defend me with your
life's last breath if need be, did you not?"
"I did," Connor admitted grudgingly.
"I'm not asking that of you, I'm not asking of you anything so exalted. All I ask is that you take this one small step in trying to bring peace to the Maxwell and Douglas. That's all, I'm simply asking you to try."
Connor's indecision was as tangible as the dark wisps of smoke curled up from the sconce Roy Maxwell held and twisted toward the low stone ceiling. She trapped her breath in her throat as she watched a variety of emotions play in Connor's narrow gray eyes. Suspicion. Reluctance. Caution. Then, in the end, resignation.
"Ver well, lass," Connor said tightly. He lowered his sword, hesitated, unwillingly resheathed it. Roy's sigh of relief was audible. "'Twill come to naught, I vow, but a Douglas is a mon of his word." He shifted his attention to Roy, and his expression hardened. "Go. Take Siobhan with ye. And whate'er ye do, mon, take pains once you're back at Caerlaverock to tell Johnny Maxwell exactly why the wench is being returned and what is expected of him. Make sure yer da understands the magnitude of what accepting such a gift means. Och! what are ye waiting for? Get ye gone!"
Roy didn't need to be told twice. After hesitating only long enough to send Gabrielle a thankful glance, and Connor one that questioned his sanity, Roy bobbed his head and dodged past them. In mere seconds he'd disappeared up the steep, narrow stairway, the only indication of his nearness the receding click of his booth heels atop bare stone.
Connor waited until he heard the doorway at the top of the stairs slam shut before turning his attention back to Gabrielle. He'd no idea what he planned to say to her, and the second their gazes met, he no longer cared.
The lass was smiling up at him and... Och! but he'd never felt his heart speed up and somersault against the cage of his ribs quite this way in his life!