When Conall started toward them, her words were sharp within his mind. “Let me do this, Laird Hamilton.” Jaw clenched, her eyes didn’t meet his but remained on the warrior kneeling at her feet. “Let me protect you like you protected me.”
It went against every grain in him to allow a vulnerable lass with no battle skills so close to a seasoned warrior, never mind that it was Lindsay.
“Please,” she repeated, her eyes firmly on the warrior as she shifted her hip seductively. “I can do this, Conall. You have to trust me.”
Trust her? It wasn’t about trust in the least. It was about her losing her life in an instant. Never uttering another word. More than that, him never hearing her voice again.
“Hello, there, darling,” she purred as she tilted the warrior's chin up until their eyes met. “’Tis so nice to meet you in the midst of all this violence.” She batted her lashes, a mysterious but promising look in her eyes. “Have you come to keep me safe until my friend over there saves me?”
The warrior nodded without looking Conall’s way.
“I thought so,” she whispered, pleased. “Thank you.”
The man offered a wide clueless crooked-toothed smile.
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions before my friend saves me?” she said softly as she lowered her hood and released her hair. “Would that be all right?”
Wide-eyed, he nodded avidly.
“Good. Thank you.” She ran a finger down the side of his chainmail covered head. “Where is your leader? Is he close?”
Though in awe of what she was doing, Conall remained braced to attack.
“He is not as close as he would like to be,” the warrior replied obediently.
“So he’s having trouble finding William Wallace,” she murmured as she cupped his cheek. “As is Earl Robert the Bruce?”
“Yes.” The man nodded. “Both are being outwitted.”
“Are they?” Her curious eyes never left his. “Did you see the Bruce this morn? Did he have any new information?”
“None.” He shook his head. “But ‘twas his idea to head in this direction.”
“Was it then?” she said softly, still stroking his cheek. “Did he say why?”
“Just that if we went south,” he reported, “we would find what we were looking for.”
“And the Bruce is still with you, aye?” she asked, focused and alluring. “He helps you find the Scots rebels?”
“He does,” the man confirmed. “He is trusted well enough.”
“Well enough?” She cocked her head, still stroking his cheek. “What does that mean?”
“He’s Scottish so hard to trust to begin with.” A sneer curled his lips despite the worshiping way he looked at her. “’Twill only be a matter of time before this cursed country falls altogether.”
Lindsay nodded, feigning agreement before she stepped back, apparently finished. “Don’t kill him, Conall. He’s just a—”
He didn’t wait for the rest of her request but came up behind the Sassenach, ripped off the chainmail, pulled his head back and sliced his throat open. Not sorry in this least, his eyes met Lindsay’s, his brogue thick. “He’s just a bloody Sassenach who would have raped and murdered ye had ye no’ enchanted him.” He kicked him face first into the snow. “May the buzzards finish him off.”
He wiped his blade and sheathed it, watching her closely.
Some might say it was poor of him to have done something like this in front of her. That it could have triggered sensitive memories. Those he needed her to share with him so that he could properly train her. But as he surmised earlier, a scene like this did not make her weaker but stronger.
His grandfather was right. Lindsay was very special. Hardened in ways he never would have guessed. Talented in ways he had just seen firsthand. Which made him think back to Stirling and what had happened to her in the Sassenach encampment. The things he had accused her of when it came to Hugh de Cressingham and the Earl of Surrey. Two powerful men she should never have survived but did.
Now he knew why.
Though he had seen it with her and the warlock, this presented a much clearer picture.
“Come.” He took her hand and pulled her after him, scanning their surroundings for more of the enemy before they reached their horse. As far as he could tell, those who had attacked were cut down quickly, and their group was on the move again. So Conall swung Lindsay up, joined her, and they continued on.
A strained silence settled between them as the day wore on. One he had trouble figuring out, but knew had to do with the Sassenach he had killed. As far as he could tell, her thoughts were swirling not just with anger but something else. A level of disappointment he could not understand.
Though the wind had settled some, snow began falling again by the time Simon Fraser fell in beside them. He pointed north-northwest through the trees. “Just over the landing, there will be low but habitable caves to seek shelter in for the eve.” His eyes went to Conall. “If yer able to hunt, ‘twould be most appreciated. We have wounded men.”
Conall nodded before Simon trotted ahead.
“I can’t believe we still haven’t heard from anyone,” Lindsay muttered once they arrived. Thankfully, there was enough tree coverage and overhang from the caves for the horses, but not all that much. Wary of using magic, all he could offer his horse was a pat down and his own fur.
Now to figure out how to hunt and keep Lindsay safe at the same time.
“You just saw what I was capable of, Laird Hamilton,” she said softly as her eyes met his. “So you know I’ll be okay if you go hunting.”
Though he wanted her to call him Conall, something back there had put renewed distance between them. Though he should be grateful, he wasn't. It was best that they got along if he wanted her to open up to him about her gift. So he tried to understand her by bluntly stating the obvious. “I upset you.”
“Yes,” she stated just as bluntly, her eyes searching his. “But I can see you have no idea how and that, I’m afraid, is not the best way to start off a friendship.”
“Then we will try again,” he said logically.
“Honestly, I'm not so sure I want to.” Her troubled eyes stayed with his. “Because I have a feeling a friendship with you is going to be too much work.”
What was that supposed to mean? As a rule, his friendship had always been valued by those he gave it to, and none had ever said it was too much work. Surprised by how much her words upset him but not about to let her know, he focused on what needed to be done.
Hunting.
As she had said, she could take care of herself. And God knew she would have no trouble finding more friends around here if she needed one. Friendships she might not end before they had a chance to begin.
“I willnae go far, lass.” He gave her his dagger. “Settle in and help where you can, aye?”
He didn’t wait for a response but headed out. For the first time since he met Lindsay, he officially took his eyes off of her. Now that he knew what she was capable of, he had faith she could protect herself. Or so he kept telling himself as he hunted.
The truth was he remained confused.
In the beginning, it had been simple. He knew he wanted nothing to do with her. Nothing sexual that was. Or even this friendship she sought then ripped away. Yet he realized as he tromped back to the cave later with fresh game that her friendship could not be so easily taken away.
That it had been his for a very long time.
Though unsure how he intended to phrase it, he planned on presenting it just that way when he saw her again. That aye, though he agreed romance was out of the question, friendship had always been and would always be theirs. Hard work or not.
“Where did my lass go?” he asked Simon as he tossed down his carcasses, doing his best to remain calm when he didn’t see her right away.
“Lindsay?” Simon gestured at the cave entrance. “Gone with the Bruce.”
Conall frowned. “The Bruce?”
“Do I look like the sort of lad that would let my lass go off with the likes of Robert the Bruce?” he growled, doing his best to repress his rage.
Simon shrugged. “To be honest, I didnae get the impression she was all that much yer lass when she left.”
If he was not so important to Scotland’s history, Conall might have strangled Simon right then and there, but he had bigger things to worry about. Had the Bruce somehow been possessed by the warlock that morn? If so, did that mean the warlock now had Lindsay?
He pushed aside panic, made sure his weapons were intact and headed outside again. If she had been taken, he would find her. He would get her back no matter what.
“Lindsay,” he said telepathically, trying to feel her mind against his. His blood roared. His heart hammered. She had to be all right. “Can you hear me, lass? Where are you?”
No response.
Nothing.
Then he saw her. Not with a knife to her throat because the Bruce was possessed but standing beside his horse as he embraced her. Conall never slowed but strode their way, ripped Lindsay out of his arms and held Robert at sword point with narrowed eyes.
Amusement flickered in the Bruce’s eyes as his hands rose slowly. “So good to see ye again, Laird Hamilton.” His eyes flickered to Lindsay. “Did he not know that ye came willingly with me, lassie?” He gestured over his shoulder. “So I could see to my horse.”
“Did you come alone then?” Conall’s eyes never left Robert. “Or can we expect more?”
“Aye, mayhap a few.” The Bruce grinned. “But I imagine ye’ll like the lot.”
“Grant!” Lindsay exclaimed as his grandfather appeared out of the falling snow and she embraced him. Soon after came his cousins.
Conall nodded and embraced first Rona before clapping Graham and Bryce on the back. He scanned the area and frowned. “Where are Adlin and Milly? Aðísla?”
Grant shook his head. “Not with us, I’m afraid.”
“Where did you last see them?” He did his best to ignore the enthusiastic embraces Graham and Bryce gave Lindsay.
“In the caves when we last saw ye, Cousin,” Rona reported as she looked him over and frowned. “How did ye travel back?”
He met her frown. “How did you travel back?”
She gestured at Grant. “This time, with help from yer grandfather.”
When Conall looked at Grant, it was to find his grandfather’s eyes trained on Lindsay’s ring with a bemused expression.
“What is it?” Conall repositioned himself between Lindsay and the Bruce.
“’Tis the color of her gem,” Grant said softly as he took her hand and studied it with a whimsical smile. “’Tis a color that is hard to forget.” When Conall and Lindsay continued to look confused, he murmured, “’Tis the verra color of Adlin’s foster sister’s eyes in another life...Iosbail Broun’s.”
Chapter Thirteen
LINDSAY DID HER BEST not to look at Conall the remainder of the evening. As it turned out, there was a very good chance she had initiated their first sexual encounter because she was possessed by Iosbail Broun, or MacLomain, depending on who you asked.
So she had been someone else.
Or at least she allowed everyone to believe that, including Conall, as they sat around a small campfire later. They had convened in one of several caves with exceptionally low ceilings. Wind carrying random snowflakes gusted, creating a spooky sound as it whistled through the tunnel-like caves.
Robert removed his fur and wrapped it around her shoulders. He had remained by her side since he arrived, his attention as much on her as it was on Grant. The two had known each other before so they had a lot of catching up to do. Bryce sat on her other side with Graham beside him. Conall and Rona sat across the fire, talking softly for the greater part of an hour.
As far as she could tell, Conall was back to being his old distant self, and quite frankly, she felt it was for the best. She might have hoped to renew the friendship they once shared, but when he so callously disregarded her wishes earlier in the woods, she realized there was no hope. She had asked him not to kill the Englishman, yet he did.
That, unfortunately, had been the beginning of the end for them.
He had made her feel like an accomplice to that man's death.
Much like she had felt at one time in regards to her parent’s death. Though she knew better now, it took a long time to figure out that there was no way she could have saved them. That asking for chocolate that night, which in turn put them in that convenience store during a robbery, was not her fault. Better yet, that she had not really been there, so her gift wasn’t somehow responsible.
After that, she spent her entire life changing herself and growing stronger so that she could look in the mirror without shame. So that she could finally see herself as someone to be proud of. Someone Conall had at one time understood even if only to a degree. He had been her friend and confidant when that sort of thing wasn’t possible. When, outside of him, that sort of person just didn’t exist.
“Yet they do now and always have,” Graham declared softly as he leaned over and winked at her.
Lindsay frowned, confused. What was he talking about?
“The determination of the Scots willing to rise up,” Bryce informed, filling her in on something that seemingly had nothing to do with what she had been thinking. “They may be dispersing now, but Wallace is talking about one last battle in Strathearn later this year near River Earn.” His knowing eyes met hers. “One final stance before he might have to vanish for good.”
Lindsay continued to frown as she nodded, not sure what to say because she didn’t know Scottish history nearly as well as Milly. What she did know, however, was that William Wallace’s days were numbered and that truly saddened her.
“Though I cannae say much about that battle,” Robert murmured, almost consoling her without realizing it. “I can say that hope for this country doesnae wane but sparks through these darkened nights.” His eyes drifted to the men at nearby fires, wounded and otherwise. “Those that continue to come to random skirmishes such as what lay on the horizon.” His eyes went to each and every one of them, a glimpse of the king he would someday become in his eyes. “Those that come to the aid of men such as Wallace and Fraser because they believe in hope.”
Simon Fraser did not sit with them but moved amongst his men offering words of encouragement.
“Aye,” everyone agreed, some raising their skins in salute.
Meanwhile, Lindsay sipped her whisky and did her best to keep her undivided attention on Robert as William had requested. Though she seemingly flirted for all she was worth, she found herself doing something else as well.
Watching his eyes and looking for the darkness William had warned them about.
Had it been the warlock? What else could it be?
“Whilst we cannae stroll outside this eve,” Robert murmured close to her ear. “One of these caves has a slightly higher ceiling and a sight ye might find worthy of seeing.”
Though she knew Robert would likely make a move on her, she saw an opportunity to find out what he had been up to all day. Was he possessed by a warlock? Or was he perhaps a spy for the English?
She slanted her head just enough to appear demure and met Robert's eyes beneath lowered lashes. “I would very much like a stroll.” She kept her voice soft and just shy of sultry. “Whether or not beneath the stars this time.”
“Och, you play a dangerous game all things considered, aye, lass?” Conall said into her mind.
“All things considered, I think somebody needs to find out if Robert has a warlock lurking around in him,” Lindsay responded though she should have ignored him. She smiled widely, her sole focus on Robert as he pulled her after him. He was looking for Christina this morning, and she needed to know why.
“We are all curious about his behavior earlier,” Cona
ll grumbled into her mind, his brogue thickening with aggravation. “Yet ye dinnae see us wandering off into a dark cave with him.”
Lindsay ignored Conall this time and followed Robert deeper into the cave. As promised, it opened up slightly, its walls round and sweeping as snow fell from openings above. He lit several torches before he urged her to sit on a rock beside him to enjoy the view. It was rather magical as snowflakes danced and twirled then caught in the wind and whipped along the walls before racing into the other caves.
“Something happened this morn, did it not?” he asked, his voice soft as he tucked her fur more firmly around her. “Something that has many distrusting me now.”
Lindsay glanced at him, surprised though she probably should not be. This was Robert the Bruce. A man that would go on to do great things someday. Nevertheless, she was curious by the look in his eyes considering how enthralled she thought she had him. How very level he seemed and not all that enchanted...at least not by her.
Which made her wonder.
When she narrowed her eyes, thinking he may very well be the warlock after all, his eyes narrowed in return. “What is it, lass?” His hand slid into hers in reassurance. “What has ye so wary of me when just last eve ye were quite taken?” He winked. “As much as ye could be, that is, desiring the Hamilton as ye do.”
Her eyes widened in surprise before she could stop herself. Mainly because she had used her gift of enchantment on Robert yesterday. An enchantment designed specifically to convince a man that she only had eyes for him.
Yet it seemed he had seen right through it.
“I don’t desire Laird Hamilton,” she led out carefully. “Rather, I was truly hoping you and I—”
“Och, nay,” he whispered and shook his head. “Though yer truly bonnie, it can never be, lass...well, not when we are alone that is.”
She so hoped Conall wasn’t following her thoughts right now.
“It can’t?” she whispered, truly perplexed and curious as she peered at him. “Why not?”
“Because another is promised to me,” he informed. “And I to her.”
The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 44