Hazel must have misheard him. She raised her head to look into his eyes. She saw pain reflected in his face, and her heart ached at the sight. "Left ye for
dead?"
"You poisoned my tea. Perhaps you remember that?"
Comfortable as she was on his lap, she wasn't about to let him call her a
murderess. "I most certainly did no' poison yer tea."
He raised one brow indignantly, his eyes boring into hers.
Hazel cringed from the intensity. "I dinna poison year tea," she repeated. Then she
gnawed on her bottom lip. "I-I gave ye a sleeping' draught."
"I slept for two days!" he growled.
"It might have been a strong sleeping' draught," she admitted as she squirmed,
trying to remove herself from his lap.
His hold tightened. "You're not going anywhere until we get a few things
straight, Hazel.
