Hamish heard the door open and the unfamiliar voice floated through to him. There was an edge to her voice, as if she were upset. Had he done something wrong? Had he already made a bungle of a meeting yet to occur? He found his stomach would not rest at the thought of having done something to make this woman upset. She had not entered the room, he could still make a break for it into the night where he could disappear. Perhaps he could continue to watch her and learn what he could…<br/><br/>Then she was there, striding into the room and wasting no time with pleasantries.<br/><br/>“You said you are an ally. Can I trust you?”<br/><br/>Hamish was speechless at the vision. He could not guess the color of her garment but it did not matter. She was making the color beautiful in the mirrored glow of the candles. Her hair sparkled, matching the orange and yellows bouncing gaily around the room. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to take him in and dismiss him just as quickly. Hamish felt slightly uncomfortable under the gaze. Her eyes seemed misplaced on her young face for they reflected a deeper wisdom. Experience brought about by decades.<br/><br/>Hamish would have pondered this more but then he realized that she belonged in a setting far more posh than this quietly stated mansion. Perhaps he had chosen poorly? Suddenly he felt foolish, another new sensation for him, and very out of place.<br/><br/>Myra curtsied to them and hurried off into the kitchen, leaving Chaya to tend them. Hamish was uncertain what to do now that she was here. He had been trained in interrogation, not every day conversing. And her question was fair. How could he get her to trust him?<br/><br/>Hamish struggled in a silence that seemed to stretch as he battled with what to do. From somewhere in the cobwebs of his memory there lurked a whispering voice, urging him to trust her. She had asked a fair and blatant question, she deserved no less of an answer.<br/><br/>“My name is Hamish Buchannon, Frau Devereaux. You were recently held and escaped one Darcy Krohs,” Hamish paused a second, still battling his loner instincts against the need to trust someone again. The words gushed from him as if they had a force of their own to add in his private war.<br/><br/>“I will find and kill her, Frau Devereaux. I would appreciate your help in doing so.”