“You're staying,” Cormac snarled.
She stopped in her tracks. “No, I am not. ”
“I'll be damned if any harm comes to you. How am I to sniff around the docks while keeping an eye out for your safety?”
“I don't need a nursemaid, Cormac. ” Setting her shoulders down and back, she spun to face him. “I will absolutely not stay here whilst you gad about the docks in search of a boy you wouldn't even recognize. ”
“You… you… “
She stared. “I what?”
“Och, woman, you try me. Listen to reason for once, would you? You need to be safe. ”
“You're the one with the great, big sword,” she said with mock innocence. “Won't I be safer with you?”
“Aidan wasn't safer with me. ” The retort cracked rapidly from his mouth but then hung frozen in the air.
As sharp as any blade, his words gutted her. It came down to Aidan. Always Aidan.
Blame. Distrust. This was what it was all about. Marjorie had failed the boys so many years ago. Cormac feared she'd fail him once more.
“But—”
“Enough,” he ba
rked, cutting her off before she could speak. He hissed an exhalation, considering her. “I suspect I could tie you to a chair, and you'd still find a way to follow me to the docks. ” Cormac could blame her all he wanted, but Davie was her responsibility. Davie was all that mattered. “I suspect I would. ”
“Fine. ”
“Fine,” she repeated, giving him a triumphant nod. She turned to the door and was stopped by his hand on her shoulder. The heat of his touch imprinted upon her.
Cormac flinched away as though burned. “You may come. But you will not go dressed… like… that. ”
“Dressed like what?” She put her hands on her hips. The gesture had the unfortunate effect of straining the buttons along the front of her vest. Marjorie kept her voice steady, despite the furious blush she felt suffuse her entire face. “I'm pretending to be a boy. ”
His eyes flicked to her chest for the barest moment. “If you pass for a boy, I'm the king of England. ”
“This is my disguise, and I think it a very clever one. ”
“Clever?” His eyes went to her legs, and his whole body seemed to stiffen. “You can see… “ The feel of his eyes roving over her so boldly made her insides go weak. “See what?” she asked, her voice grown unintentionally husky.
Does he like what he sees?
“Your… legs. One can imagine… “
She became overly conscious of the trews. She'd felt so free before, but all she felt now was the fabric hugging tight between her thighs. “Imagine what?”
“One can imagine a lass getting her own self taken, wearing such a thing,” he said, his voice finally finding its strength. “I'd never dreamed… “
“It's a disguise. ” Marjorie raised her chin high.
“It's indiscreet. ” He turned his back to her and seemed to be adjusting his sword belt. “Go and change. ”
“I know you, Cormac MacAlpin. If I go back up to my room, you'll leave without me. ”
“You're not safe dressed as you are. ”
“I'll be perfectly safe. ”