“You heard us?” Rowan’s voice wobbled. Nicholas desperately wanted to throttle the man, for he could well imagine the embarrassed flush that washed across Rowan’s fair face even though he could not see it. Unable to stop himself, he reached for her hand and pulled her away from Archie, putting himself between the two of them.
Archie’s mouth was a straight line, the jovial-stranger act gone. “Aye. It would have been hard not to hear. Before and after such a fervent kiss.”
Nicholas scowled. He did not like the tone Archie took. He would have needed to be barely concealed by the forest to overhear their conversation, to know just how much Rowan meant to him. That was a weapon he had never meant to give anyone.
“She is fine. There is nothing you are needed for here,” Nicholas said, hoping to convey his ire at this interruption with his expression, if not his words. “I would ask that you not embarrass the lady by speaking of what you saw or heard.”
“I would not dream of embarrassing Mistress Rowan.” Archie moved slowly closer to them. “I’m sure her family would not think well of such wanton behavior… oh, but there is another in the family that is just as wanton. Or perhaps the fair-haired one would be interested in trysting with me.”
Rowan growled behind him. “You will leave my cousins alone, Archibald of Keltie.” She stood beside Nicholas. “You will leave this land lest I send my uncle after you.”
“Oh, I think not, mistress. I think your uncle would be most interested to learn of your behavior with this man, this spy who dallies with you to learn your secrets in order to find the Highland Targe.”
Nicholas couldn’t move. He dared not look at Rowan. Why would Archie expose their mission like this? He put everything in jeopardy, including the mission and the growing feelings between himself and Rowan. Never again would she trust him. Never again would she look upon him softly, laugh with him, tease him.
Archie’s betrayal struck him in the gut like a newly shod horse’s kick, knocking the breath out of him. The man clearly had no intention of working with Nicholas to find the Targe. When had that changed? Understanding came to him in an instant. It had changed when Nicholas had gone to rescue Rowan and Scotia from the falling wall. Everything had changed in that moment even though he had not realized it until just now. He had chosen sides, at least as Archie saw it. Whatever trust Nicholas thought the two of them had shared after so many years of working together had been an illusion.
And now that Archie had found a weakness in Nicholas, his feelings for Rowan… A cold sweat trickled between his shoulder blades.
“I am sorry,” Nicholas said, turning to find her staring at him as if he were something she had never seen before. His dream, that bloody, bloody dream, punched into his mind. It wasn’t enough that King Edward would rip this clan to pieces, and with it this woman. Archie would start without their monarch.
“This is true?” Rowan’s voice was flat, hollow, matching the look in her eyes, and it tore at him. “You do not deny it?”
It was a measure of how far he had fallen for this woman that he had not even thought to lie to her, to claim that the story Archie wove was a fabrication. He shook his head.
“You are working together?”
“I would not hurt you, Rowan, not if I could help it.”
“That is a lie,” she said, looking away from him, toward Archie, as if looking for verification from him.
“It would have been a lie a sennight ago, but not now.” He reached out to touch a lock of her hair and was grateful she didn’t flinch. “Not now.”
She slapped his hand away. “No. Lies! If what this man says is true, then you have come to harm my clan and that will hurt me, no matter what.”
“I would change this if I could, Rowan. You must believe me.”
“I could never believe you.” She was looking directly at him and the anger and hurt that he found in her eyes were profound, but so much better than the flatness of a moment ago. “I was a fool to think I could trust you. I am no better than Scotia after all, letting my head get turned by a little attention from a braw man. I thought…” She shook her head. “It matters not what I thought. I was wrong.”
“And yet you told him much we need to know.” Archie was beside them, grabbing her arm, pulling her away from Nicholas.
“Release her, Archie!” Nicholas took hold of Rowan’s upper arm in an effort to wrest her away from this man he once thought of as a friend, but Archie yanked her harder, drawing a stunned cry from her as she was pulled out of Nicholas’s grasp.
“I think I shall keep her close, Nick. There is much at stake here and I am beginning to think you are not as clear in your duty as you once were. Yes, I will keep her here, close.” He pulled her against him in a mockery of the embrace Nicholas and Rowan had shared minutes ago.
White-hot rage burned through Nicholas. No matter what he had to do, this man would not hurt Rowan.
Rowan struggled but Archie had her pinned to his chest, her arms caught between them.
“Now one of you will tell me: Is Lady Elspet the keeper of the Highland Targe?” He looked at Nicholas, a rusty-colored eyebrow raised.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FURY GRIPPED ROWAN even tighter than Archie did. She had to warn Kenneth, warn the clan about the English rats in their midst.
“Let her go, Archie. She knows nothing useful.”
She could see naught but Archie’s chest but it sounded like Nicholas was moving closer, circling around them.
“That is not what I heard,” Archie said, pulling her around, keeping her between him and Nicholas, she was sure. “She would not tell you anything useful. It does not mean she does not have the information we need.”
“Rowan, tell him nothing.” Nicholas’s voice was a low growl behind her.
“Answer me, girl. Is Lady Elspet the keeper of the Highland Targe?” Archie demanded, stepping backward and dragging her with him. “Answer me!”
He loosened his hold on her enough for her to look up at him but when the only answer he got was her glare, he shook her so hard she bit her tongue and the metallic tang of her own blood trickled down her throat.
She took the moment to lift her knee hard, but he shifted quickly, taking her knee in his thigh with a grunt.
“Bitch!”
He spun her in his arms, so her back was to him, and once more pinned her in his iron embrace, backing them up. Nicholas followed them, step for step, his face a mask of concentration, his eyes focused on Archie as if she weren’t even there.
Archie stopped at the edge of the loch. “You have been keeping this feisty wench all to yourself, Nick. You used to share.”
Silence. She could tell Nicholas’s teeth were clenched by the way a muscle jumped in front of his ear. His mouth was hard, his eyes flinty. He stood a few feet away, his hands fisted by his sides, clearly poised for a fight. This fierce man was a stranger to her, so unlike the charming, gentle man she’d thought him to be.
“Perhaps I should tup her, see if she is worth turning your back on the king.” Archie ran a hand down her stomach, shocking her as he cupped her between her legs hard. “I hope she likes it rough.”
The menace in his words was clear, accented by the tightening of his arm around her waist and the pull of his other hand between her legs. She wanted to retch.
“Let her go, Archie.” The fire in Nicholas’s eyes and the determined set of his chin promised retribution and for a fleeting moment she thought perhaps he did care for her as she thought.
“Nay, that I will not do. How many times have you interfered with me and my fun? How many, Nick? Too many. Tell me what I want to know or she’ll suffer the consequences of your betrayal.”
Archie shoved Rowan’s head down, bending her over his arm, and began to pull at her gown. Rowan struggled, screaming, unable to see anything but her own feet, even as she heard the thud of fist on flesh. Archie spun, but did not release her.
When she caught her balance the edge of a cold blade rested
below her ear.
“I would rather bed her than kill her, Nicholas, but I will not hesitate to slice her pretty neck if you do not tell me what I wish to know.”
“ ’Twould be best you kill me, then,” she said between clenched teeth, feeling an increasingly familiar headache building rapidly. “He knows not the answer.” Instinctively she reached for the power she had experienced during the blessing, pulling it into her, almost laughing as it rushed up her legs, pooling under her skin, pulsing with her headache as if it were a living, breathing thing awaiting her command. “And I will not tell you anything.” She flung the power from her with her final word.
Archie roared, pulling her backwards, but releasing her at the same time. She stumbled, not realizing at first that she was free. There was splashing behind her and a string of words so foul even Uncle Kenneth had never uttered them. She whirled to find Archie struggling to his feet in knee-deep water, his nose streaming blood. She finally understood why men got such pleasure out of beating each other up.
Nicholas charged past her, shouting, “Run, Rowan! Run!” as he tackled the ginger-haired man, the two of them going down in the icy loch.
Every hair stood up on Rowan’s body as the two men clashed, Nicholas’s command echoing in her head.
She scrambled out of the clearing and into the familiar woods as fast as she could, running without stopping, as if her feet had wings. Her years of experience in these woods lent speed and direction to her flight—up the ben into the thickest part of the sheltering forest.
Only when she began to stumble over the downed trees and slippery, moss-covered rocks did she slow. She searched for a cave that she knew was nearby, but then thought twice about hiding in a place with no escape route. She pushed into a thicket of juniper crouching low in the deep shadows as she desperately tried to quiet her breathing and slow her heartbeat. It was only then that she discovered tears flowing down her face, leaving wet trails over the top of her gown. She wiped them away, stemming the flow immediately. She would not cry. She’d not give English spies the satisfaction of seeing a Highlander laid low by their betrayal—by his betrayal.
Her hand on her lips kept a moan from escaping. She was a Highlander. She might have allowed herself a moment of weakness with Nicholas—several moments, if she was honest with herself—but now Rowan knew the truth, and she would do whatever it took to make sure neither Nicholas, nor Archie, got any information to Edward Longshanks in England.
And that meant getting back to the castle immediately. She had to warn Uncle Kenneth. They had to hunt down the two traitorous spies. She could not think about what the punishment for spying would be. It was earned, deserved. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her chest, trying to ease the ache that burrowed there.
She needed a plan. If she went straight back to the castle one or both of the spies would likely be waiting for her, recapture her…
She wouldn’t think about that either.
She knew these woods and bens better than either of them did. She had the advantage there. She knew the castle, its people, and the rhythms of their days better than either of them, too. Another advantage. She glanced up, peering at the sky through the dense foliage of the spring forest. It was not yet midday. Her best chance was to approach the castle under cover of night. It would be daft to think at least one of the spies wouldn’t be keeping watch and easily see her if she tried to return during daylight.
But she couldn’t stay here. She’d run quickly, but she had no doubt she’d left a trail behind her for them to follow. She needed to move, and she needed to cover her tracks.
And this was where her years of exploring the bens would come to her aid. She quickly oriented herself. There were several burns that ran down this face of the ben and one was not too far to the west of her hiding place. She listened carefully, not just for the footfalls or voices of men, but for the creatures of the forest whose hearing surpassed hers. When she was sure no one was close by she stood and made her way to the burn, carefully avoiding as many things that would betray her passing as possible. When she got to the burn she stepped into the water and quickly made her way up the ben.
NICHOLAS’S FIST POUNDED into Archie’s face, sending him spinning deeper into the water, flailing and spluttering as he found his footing. Nicholas backed out of the loch onto dry ground, then quickly scanned the clearing to make sure Rowan had done as he’d told her and run. She was gone, and relief mixed with remorse in a thick band about his chest.
“I knew you were hiding something from me.” Archie charged out of the water, hatred etched on his pinched face. Nicholas stepped to the side at the last minute and swept a foot out to trip the man, sending him sprawling face-first in the dirt. Nicholas knew Archie was more brawler than disciplined fighter. In this especially, his early training in the ways of Highland warriors served him well.
“We were partners.” Archie stood, brushing bits of gravel from his scraped-up face. “But no, you’ve gone soft on that Scottish whore.”
“She is no whore.” They circled each other, each looking for an opening.
“You are a stupid man.” Archie’s eyes shifted left, then right. He pivoted and sprinted for the forest.
Nicholas sprinted after him, diving and grabbing him about the legs, the two of them tumbling to the ground. Archie bucked and twisted but Nicholas did not release his hold.
“You are the stupid man. You told her everything!” Nicholas managed to straddle Archie. He grabbed the man’s hair and pulled his head back until Archie went stone still. “You betrayed our mission, you betrayed the king.” His conscience crackled in his head. Archie had done what Nicholas was contemplating, betraying his partner and his king for the sake of a woman, but he’d not tell the man that. “It is done and ’twill be your head on a pike, not mine.” He had to take the position of loyalty to the king if he had any hope of getting out of this alive.
Nicholas shoved Archie’s face into the ground and leapt to his feet, putting himself between the man and the forest, protecting Rowan as best he could. Archie carefully got to his feet, swiping at the blood that trickled from his nose.
“Not if I take your place inside the castle, another traveler in search of a dry bed and a warm meal. Not if I retrieve the Highland Targe and take it to the king myself.”
All the ramifications of this ran through Nicholas’s mind, all settling on one certainty.
“You would kill me and then Rowan? Do you really think Kenneth will welcome a stranger into their midst after his own niece has been murdered?”
“If the two of you disappear they will think only that you have taken their woman, and if I claim to have seen the two of you together… well, I will be the only one who can set them on the right path to track you down and they will be overjoyed to take me into the bosom of their castle.”
“What makes you think you can kill me?” He filled his voice with all the derision and hatred he held for this man, goading him to attack again. “You were not even strong enough to keep hold of Rowan.”
Archie tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. He stilled, focusing inward instead of on Nicholas. His head lifted and he rocked back on his heels as he often did when he was thinking hard. “She threw me off without so much as touching me. One minute I was about to take her and the next I was flying backward into the water.”
Nicholas took a step toward Archie, but the man was so focused on what had happened he didn’t even flinch.
“Perhaps there is more to Rowan than you have told me, old friend. A weak, mewling woman has never thrown me off before. She defended herself without a weapon.” Archie took a deep breath and a smirk spread over his battered and cut face. “She has the Highland Targe. I did not believe the stories, but how else to explain what she did? It must be small, not a true shield at all, but some symbol, some relic. She must have it on her person to throw me off so forcefully. You have had the Targe within your reach, within your embrace, and you either did not know it, or could not
bring yourself to do your duty to your king, lost between the lusty wench’s thighs.”
Nicholas took a slow breath. Rowan had thrown the man off… he’d known it, but hadn’t stopped to consider how she had managed it. Regardless, she was not the keeper of the targe, he was certain of that—as certain as he could be with no real information—but his instinct and what he had observed told him Elspet was the one. Regardless, he could not let Archie believe it or Rowan would be in even more peril than she was at this moment. His dream seemed more prophecy now than simple nightmare.
“Nay,” he said slowly, clearly, “Rowan is not the one we seek. Lady Elspet is.”
“You lie to me again!” Archie snorted. “I am not blind, Nick. You wish to keep her for yourself? The question is: Are you really addled by this woman?” His face hardened, his brow a solid line over suspicious eyes. “Or were you planning on cutting me out?” He drew his dagger and lunged at Nicholas, aiming for his gut but Nicholas spun away, grabbing for his own dagger and preparing for Archie’s next attack.
“You know I am better at this than you are,” Nicholas said, circling the other man.
“No, but perhaps Rowan will be the judge.” Archie slashed at Nicholas again, feinting right, then slicing down, drawing blood from a shallow cut along Nicholas’s arm.
Nicholas engaged Archie in feints and lunges, moving back toward the loch, away from the forest edge, letting the man think he had the upper hand. When he reached the rocky verge of the loch, he struck fast, again and again, parrying Archie’s moves with ease, and turning the fight until Archie’s back was to the dark waters. The two of them stared at each other, their breaths coming fast and hard with their efforts.
Highlander Betrayed (Guardians of the Targe) Page 15