Clara’s heart pounded. The last person to see her without her disguise had been Gilbert.
Even during her meetings with Lady Juliette, she’d remained in the guise of a boy.
But Alex would not be dissuaded. His expression told her as much, and although she was appalled at the thought, terrified of doing the one thing Gilbert had told her never to do, part of her wanted to do it. She wanted him to see her as she really was. She wanted him to know her.
Without another word, Clara bent down next to him and cupped the water as he’d done. It took a bit of scrubbing to remove the dried mud. Once she did, Clara mustered enough courage to look at him.
His expression had not changed.
His. . . maleness was so powerful, every part of his body exuding pure, unbridled strength. But Clara knew, despite the fact that she’d lied to him, Alex Kerr would not harm her.
She reached up and pulled out the slim ivory pins that Gilbert had purchased for her at great expense.
One by one, she took them out from beneath the fabric that had been made just for her. Finally, her fingers trembling, she pulled the hat from her head.
“All of them,” he said.
She stood, her legs aching from bending, and Alex did the same.
With every pin she removed, Clara tried not to think of what this would mean. What he would do or say. Where they would go from here. Instead, she focused on the delicious feeling of her hair flowing loose around her shoulders.
She was, once again, a woman.
Shaking her head, Clara took a calming breath and waited for him to speak.
“Remarkable.”
Clara shivered despite the warm August day.
“Why? How?” he asked.
She had no answers for those questions. Except for the truth, and that would not do. So she asked her own question instead.
“How did you chance upon me?”
Alex crossed his arms.
“I grew suspicious after the way my brother coddled you during training the other day. After that, I simply waited and watched. I didn’t expect for you to reveal so much so soon.”
“So Toren didn’t tell you?”
“Nay, he did not.”
“And you watched me here?” The question was a bold one, but she did not regret asking it.
“I did.”
The look in his eyes. . . He looked as if he would devour her, and she would be lying to herself if she pretended not to enjoy it. The sensible thing to do would be to back down. To step away from him, but she found herself saying instead, “So you saw. . .”
“Everything.”
This time, she held his gaze. Clara lifted her chin.
“You want to know if I liked what I saw?” he asked.
She gasped. “I said no such—”
“You didn’t have to.”
His insolence should not have surprised her. Alex Kerr was a man who took what he wanted. One who worked hard but enjoyed life. And right now, he wanted her.
Of that, she had no doubt.
Neither could she deny it was a feeling she shared. It was absurd, really. Her fascination with this Scots warrior was most unwelcome. But he was unlike any man she’d ever met.
He answered the question she’d not asked. “Once the shock wore off, I enjoyed it very much. You are a beautiful woman.”
Words she’d never thought to hear. The rush of pleasure at his compliment was shameful.
Why was she not more scared? Gilbert would have told her to run away. Fast. And yet her feet stood rooted to the spot.
“And you are a beautiful man.”
Oh dear. Had she really said that aloud?
Oh, that smile. . . Alex’s smile was always appealing, but the smile he was giving her now was devastating. Sensual. Clara needed to get away.
Before the thought took root, Alex grabbed her hand, mayhap sensing she was prepared to run.
“Stay,” he said.
He’d not yet let go. His hand, warm and strong, enveloped her like a protective shield. She would not be the one to pull away.
Neither of them moved.
“Tell me,” he said.
Still holding his hand, Clara envisioned herself sharing everything with him. It would be so liberating to share her secret and her burden at last. To truly let someone know her. The temptation nearly compelled her to tell him all, but the memory of that day was so vivid—so utterly awful—it stayed her tongue.
“I cannot.”
He did let go of her hand then, and Clara was sorry for it.
“You’ve told no one, not even my brother, of your reasons.”
“Nay. And yet he offered to bring me here—”
“As my squire.”
“He said you were always looking for men to train.”
“Men, aye. Lasses, nay.”
He did not sound angry any longer. But that certainly did not mean he’d keep her secret. Or that she could stay. But Clara was afraid of the answers to the questions she needed to ask, so she remained silent instead.
“It makes no sense.”
She simply waited, letting him work the matter through his mind. Letting him speak.
“A woman, such as you, disguising herself as a lad. A squire.” His eyes widened. “You assisted Toren in the tournament. He said as much. And you can wield a sword. How did you become strong enough to do such things?”
She shrugged, as if it were no great or uncommon feat.
“God’s teeth, woman, give me something.”
“My name is Clara.”
“Clara.”
It had felt liberating to share her name with Juliette, but it was different to hear it on Alex’s lips. It made her feel like a woman again.
He inclined his head. “Alex, if it pleases you.”
It pleased her well enough. That he was giving her leave to call him by his given name meant something, though she wasn’t sure what exactly.
“So what am I to do with an Englishwoman who gives me nothing more than her name? Who pretends to be a boy, will not trust me with the truth, and has learned to hide herself so well that none can see the treasure beneath?”
Treasure? Clara lowered her head, as she had become accustomed to doing.
“If you would allow me to remain as Alfred—”
“Tell me why this is so important to you.”
If her choice was revealing the truth to him or leaving, she’d be forced to leave. But it had been so wonderful not to run. To sleep in a bed. . . to see the same people each day.
“Look at me, Clara.”
She did, and what she saw pained her. Alex Kerr stood before her, tall and proud. But his expression. . . it was that of a man resolved to stand his ground.
She would have to leave.
Before he could stop her, Clara grabbed the hat and pins at her side, turned around, and ran. She knew he could catch her if he tried, but with any luck, he would not try.
Should she stop to gather her belongings? Nay, she could not risk it. At least she had her sword.
She’d made a mistake coming here. She’d broken Gilbert’s rule not to trust anyone. She’d broken it with Toren. And Juliette. And though she hardly knew him, she’d begun to trust Alex as well. Because of it, she now had no supplies. No clothing other than what she wore on her back.
Nothing save her life, which, for now, would have to be enough.
8
The Englishwoman was afraid for her life.
The look on her face directly before she fled told him as much. He cursed himself as a fool for pushing her away. Not that he desired a squire who lied to him. Deceived him. A squire who was, in truth, an Englishwoman.
But the alternative was unacceptable. He knew why Toren had brought her here, and despite his dislike for the English, his need to protect this woman was stronger.
He could have stopped Clara from running, but he’d assumed she would head up the hill to the castle. The truth—that she’d actually run away—only dawned on h
im when he’d emerged from the trees to find the uphill path quite empty. The guards confirmed his suspicion—she hadn’t returned and they’d not seen her—and he immediately headed to the stables.
Bad luck for him, his brother found him there before he could ride off to find her.
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Toren blustered after he explained the situation.
Alex, who’d just mounted his horse, took the reins from the groom and dismissed him.
“Juliette will—”
“Have my head. You’ve said as much. Now, would you prefer we stand here and argue, or shall I go after her?”
It was bad luck he’d come across his brother on the way to the stables. On foot, she would not be able to go far, so if he took his horse, he’d have a much greater chance of finding her. But he needed to leave now.
“By all that’s holy, if she’s harmed. . .”
Alex loved his brother, but at times like these, he’d prefer a sibling to a father.
“Not now, brother.”
He spun his mount away from the stable and toward the gatehouse, but Toren stopped him again.
“Alex?”
He quieted his mount with his hand, the horse responding to his soft touch as he’d done for years. “Aye?”
When he looked at Toren, Alex knew immediately what his brother was asking. He’d talked to both of his brothers about the reports regarding their mother. Toren and Reid claimed not to care about what had become of her. Both said they had no mother. That the woman who’d abandoned them the day after their father was buried meant nothing to them.
But Alex wanted to know why she had left. Where she’d been these past years. He wanted to confront her with what she’d done. He’d searched for her for over a year, stopping only when Toren convinced him to leave it alone. And he was tempted to go after her now. . .
“I don’t know,” he said flatly. He could not deal with the revelations about their mother just yet. One problem at a time.
With that, he took off. Racing through the cobblestone courtyard, his horse’s hooves clanking with every step, Alex made his way through both gates and out onto the path that led to the small village below.
Something niggled at his thoughts as he rode toward the village, and he stopped his mount when the worry finally clicked into place. Clara was intelligent enough to fool all those around her about her identity. She’d obviously fended for herself for some time, which meant she was much too smart to have run on foot. She would have looked for transport.
The merchant.
When Alex found him, he’d likely also find the English lass who posed as a squire.
Using the old Roman road, he followed the wagon’s tracks south. It was a rare merchant who moved back and forth along the border. Most stayed in their country of origin. But this particular one chose to make his living in a region many others avoided. Not the kind of person he’d want Clara, or any female, to call a travel companion.
There!
The very wagon he sought had come into view along the next ridge. Alex sped up, kicking dirt and rock behind him as he dipped into the valley and climbed once again. The wagon slowed, and Alex knew he’d been spotted.
He pulled up alongside the merchant and wasted no time.
“Where is he?”
The “he” in question promptly poked his head out of the wagon as the merchant peered around the side.
He could try to convince Clara to come back, but she might not be amicable to the idea. He’d end her escape immediately.
“The boy you harbor is my squire, sworn to the service of Clan Kerr and—”
“He’s yours, my lord,” the merchant rushed to say. “Take him.”
Alex nearly laughed at the expression on Clara’s face. She rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated at the man’s quick surrender of his new travel companion.
She must have known the futility of attempting to dissuade either man that she should stay. By claiming her as his own, Alex had ensured the merchant would not intervene. Clara jumped from the wagon, offered the merchant her thanks, which sounded more like a curse than anything, and the wagon pulled away.
“Get up,” he demanded.
She didn’t move.
“Clara, you’ve nowhere to go. Toren and Juliette would have flayed me alive if I’d allowed you to escape. Do you really think little enough of them to believe otherwise?”
He assumed she felt indebted to his brother and sister-in-law—correctly, it would seem, for she moved toward him without further argument. Reaching down, he lifted her onto the mount behind him.
And immediately regretted it.
Although they were bound, he could still feel her breasts pressed against his back. And it would only get worse.
“Wrap your hands around me.”
She did, and Alex nearly groaned. The wee lass felt as if she belonged there.
As they made their way back to the keep, Alex waited for her to speak. He was torn between wanting to demand answers and ensuring she felt safe enough not to run again.
“I cannot tell you,” she finally whispered.
The panic in her voice prompted him to break his silence.
“I will not demand it.”
She said nothing.
They rode in silence, a comfortable, easy silence. He forced his thoughts away from the woman pressed against his back, and they quickly landed on the question of whether his mother had been found at last.
He should not go looking for the woman who’d abandoned them. Neither of his brothers were tempted, and he was the worst kind of fool to even consider it.
But he was considering it nonetheless.
There was also the matter of the Day of Truce. It was fast approaching, and he should attend it. Both his brothers had said there was no need, that they would both be there, but Toren was newly married and Reid was, well, Reid. Strong and capable, he was nevertheless the youngest Kerr brother. And neither Alex nor Toren were willing to see him hurt.
But he had to know. If there was even the slightest chance he could find her, Alex had to look.
“I’m travelling to England.”
The decision was made.
“You can continue to train with the men if you’d like,” he continued. He’d give her no further reason to flee.
“Where in England?” she asked.
“Northumbria. Northeast, along the coast.”
“Why?”
“’Tis the same simple question that caused you to flee, alone, rather than remain at Brockburg.”
As he expected, she said nothing about herself or her decision to run. What she did say shocked him.
“I’m coming with you.”
It struck him that her tone was that of a highborn lady. His English lass was gently bred. How could he have missed the fact before? The hat was back in place, and she’d restored the artfully placed smudges on her face. But he easily saw past the disguise now that he knew it was one. The high cheekbones and dark, delicate lashes. Her smooth, pink lips that he ached to feel beneath his own.
Aye, she was a woman in every way but her dress.
“Nay, you are not.”
“I am much more comfortable on the move. I—”
“Nay,” he said firmly. “I travel alone.”
His brothers would not like it, but Alex wanted no witnesses to his folly. “It’s much too dangerous for you to—”
“I’ve been travelling without an escort for some time now. At least you will be there. Please let me come.”
It was a terrible idea.
Not only was it dangerous, but he desired her. Others may think her a lad, a squire, but he knew otherwise. He could not find himself alone with her—
“I watched my father be murdered.”
She’d said it so quietly, Alex had to ask her to repeat herself. When she did, he was only left with more questions. But to voice them would silence her, and so he simply nodded for her to go on.
“I cannot close my ey
es even now, years later, without seeing the dagger slice through his neck. Since then, I’ve moved from place to place. Usually following the tourney. Even still, movement makes me feel safe. As grateful as I am for your brother’s offer to stay here, I feel. . .”
He waited, but she said no more. No mention of why her father had been murdered or who he had been in life. Alex could guess at some of it. A lord, no doubt. Judging from her accent, though, not a border lord, and she was clearly not from the south.
She’d made no mention of her mother. Or siblings. Alex tried to imagine living through his father’s death and mother’s abandonment without the support of Toren and Reid and Catrina.
He’d not have managed well.
“Please,” she added, her voice soft but urgent.
Why she wanted to come so badly, he could not understand. But neither could he deny her, especially not out of an inability to control his own desire.
He was stronger than that.
They halted just as Brockburg came into view. Alex turned, her grip on his waist loosening.
“You may come,” he said, knowing it was a bad idea.
For his efforts, he was granted a brilliant smile. It was the first one she’d given him since he had discovered her secret. Her straight white teeth peeked out from her parted lips. . .
He had made a dangerous mistake.
When they began the incline to the castle, Clara tightened her arms around Alex. She felt as if they would topple backward. It reminded her of when she’d once ridden what she had thought to be the highest mountain in all of England. Gilbert had laughed, telling her it was nothing more than a small hill, but she’d been afraid enough to get off her horse and refuse to ride, preferring to walk alongside the beast instead.
“If you keep that up, it will be a long journey indeed.”
“Oh! Did I hurt you?” She hadn’t realized how hard she was squeezing him.
“That depends, lass, on the kind of hurt you refer to.”
Now what in the devil was that supposed to mean?
She loosened her grip slightly as his meaning finally registered. Clara smiled against his back. At least she was not the only one affected. When he had turned to look at her earlier, she’d thought for a moment he was going to kiss her.
The Scot's Secret: Border Series Book 4 Page 6