Highland Spy

by Madeline Martin

  She nodded.

  Percy pushed open the door, and they walked out into the icy, still air.

  Connor stood not far away. His tall, lean body caught her gaze before she noticed two other women. She recognized Sylvi despite a large, awkward apron-like garment she wore on her body. Her hair was threaded back in several braids, and the black of her ribbon stood dark against the flush of her throat. The woman across from her was familiar as well. Hair somewhere between blonde and brown, a small freckle beside the lush mouth. The recollection struck Ariana like a blow. The woman from the card table in London when she had been caught cheating.

  She too wore a cumbersome brown apron. They stood out against the bleak white of the snow blanketing the interior of the castle’s curtain walls.

  And there were swords in both women’s hands.

  Swords.

  As if they were soldiers.

  It was just as Percy had said.

  Ariana stared at the length of steel gripped in Sylvi’s fist, like an extension of her. The sun was hidden behind a smattering of clouds and yet it shone upon the metal like a beacon.

  Sylvi opened her mouth and cried out before lunging toward the other woman. Their swords clashed with such ferocity, Ariana swore she saw a spark flash between them. The woman grunted and shoved back with her sword until Sylvi drew away.

  This time Sylvi gripped the handle of her blade with two hands and swung it high overhead. She grimaced and arced the weapon down toward the head of the other woman.

  Ariana winced as if she were the one about to take the blow. But before the blade could strike, the other woman cut her sword into the air and blocked.

  Energy fired through Ariana’s veins, raw and renewed.

  She wanted to be like them, to be strong and powerful.

  “What is she doing out here?” Connor’s voice pulled her attention.

  He strode toward them, his gait smooth despite the irate expression crinkling his brow. His nose and cheeks were bright red from the cold.

  “I came of my own volition,” Ariana said, before Percy could feel compelled to answer on her behalf.

  His gaze shifted to Percy.

  “She insisted,” she answered in her soft voice.

  His attention returned back to Ariana and fire seemed to burn in the depths of his hazel eyes.

  Suddenly the memory of how he’d looked at her that fateful evening slammed into her. She’d been such a dolt for assuming his attention had been one of interest.

  Her cheeks lit with shame, burning away all the chill of the morning air upon them.

  But she had not come here to give in to the heart-sucking pressure of humiliation.

  She had come to train.

  • • •

  Connor stared down at the small woman who dared defy him on her first day of training.

  The trews sagged on her hips and the shirt hung from her shoulders as if it were set upon a line to dry.

  Deep smudges of exhaustion showed under her eyes.

  “Ye should take the day to rest. It may be the only one ye get,” he said. “Ye look as though a strong wind could knock ye down.”

  “There is no wind, which makes your statement a wild assumption.” She folded her arms over her narrow chest. “I’m quite capable.”

  He smirked. “If ye insist, but ye’ll do well to remember I’m in charge.”

  Some of the defiant spark faded and she gave a nod.

  “Percy, ye can go.” He nodded toward the manor and gave her a pointed look. “I think ye’ve done enough here.”

  Percy gave a hesitant look at Ariana before she made her way back to the tower house. Connor watched her leave without guilt. If she’d been uncomfortable with Ariana staying, she shouldn’t have allowed the lass to come down in the first place.

  He turned to the other girls. “Enough watching. Get back to it.”

  Sylvi was a snake, coiled during the lull and waiting to strike. Delilah barely had time to lift her own weapon and block the blow.

  The clang rang so sharply, it twinged deep in his ears.

  They were good on their own. His attention went back to Ariana. “The first thing we need to do is get ye warmed up.”

  A shiver wracked through her. “I’m not cold.” The lie came out in a fog of frozen breath.

  “It’s no’ to make ye feel warm, it’s to get yer muscles limber and ready for fighting. Ye take care of yer body so it takes care of ye. Do ye understand?”

  She nodded sharply, and the muscles of her slender neck stood out like twigs beneath thin silk.

  “Then we’re going to run five times around the length of the wall.”

  It was a fraction of what they usually did, but he didn’t want to kill the lass. He nodded for her to start and set his pace to match hers. They’d only done one lap when her breathing began to go ragged.

  She’d wanted to train, he reminded himself.

  By the second lap, her footfalls were heavy—a slow, staggered crunch, crunch, crunch against the ice-lined snow.

  His body moved with ease, but he remembered a time long ago, when he’d been a boy and his father had done this with him. He’d gotten a stitch in his side so fierce he could only imagine he’d been stabbed. It was how one learned.

  By the third lap, they were moving slower.

  Still she had not stopped, not even to catch her breath.

  On the fourth lap, she stumbled.

  He lunged forward to catch her, but she righted herself and kept running.

  Something inside him twisted. She was exhausted and there was almost nothing to her scrawny frame. He should have said two laps.

  He should never have let her stay to train.

  “I think ye’ve warmed up well enough,” he said.

  “No.” She huffed a heavy breath. “One more.”

  Why the hell had he said five?

  Because other women had been able to do at least five when they’d first arrived. After they were well rested. And of a decent weight.

  Ariana lowered her head on the last lap and quickened her pace despite the rasp of her breathing. She didn’t stumble again and did not stop until they reached the place they’d started.

  Her small chest puffed in and out and sweat trickled down her reddened face, but she gave him a triumphant smile.

  A slant of sunlight bathed her face, and he realized for the first time that her eyes weren’t actually blue, but a deep blue-green. The color of the sea on a calm day with a ring of dark green around it, lending her eyes a feline look.

  She truly was a beauty.

  “Ye did well, Ariana.” He patted her back and then wished he hadn’t. The hard stab of her shoulders and spine against his palm struck him deep in the heart.

  He’d be having a private conversation with Percy later to ensure Ariana ate more times per day than everyone else.

  “You’re right,” Ariana said with her beautiful smile. “I feel much warmer, and my legs are hardly sore from yesterday’s ride.”

  She looked as if she were about to fall over.

  “First I’ll teach ye to throw a dagger,” he said. At least that task wouldn’t be as exhaustive as fighting.

  Connor wouldn’t make the same mistake of training her too hard as he had with making her run those damn laps.

  She followed him across the field. “Are we being trained to be warriors?”

  He tugged the heavy round target from the pile of practice gear and set it up several yards away. She remained quiet, awaiting his answer.

  “Something like that.” He grabbed several sharp knives and put all but one on the frozen ground between them. The snow had melted somewhat and several limp strands of grass lay in green spears upon the muddied white surface.

  Her gaze fell to the pile of blades. “When will I know?”

  “When ye’re ready,” he said, and extended his hand so she could see how he held the dagger. “The key to this is ye hold the blade lightly between yer thumb and the knuckle of yer first
finger.”

  Ariana plucked a dagger from the ground and mimicked his delicate grip.

  “It’s a light throw. If ye put power behind it, yer throw will go wild. Keep yer wrist relaxed.” He loosed the dagger. It flew through the air and sank deep into the center of the target.

  She worked her own dagger back and forth several times before releasing it. It clattered against the target and fell to the ground.

  “Ye’ll get it,” he said. “Ye just have to practice.”

  She nodded and flung the next blade. It too sailed wildly through the air.

  He let her continue to work on throwing daggers until the salty scent of roasting ham wafting out from indoors told him their morning session had drawn to a close.

  Connor put his hand over hers, stopping her from grabbing another dagger.

  “We’re done. Now ye’ll eat something before attending yer lessons.”

  She straightened, and a line of worry creased her brows. “I need to check on Liv.”

  “Ye need to eat. Ye’ll be no good to me being as thin as ye are.”

  For the first time since training, her gaze dropped and slid to the side in a show of obvious discomfort. She didn’t speak, but instead gave a quiet nod.

  Suddenly he found himself wishing for the irritated sigh women gave instead of this.

  “I canna have ye getting sick,” he amended.

  She nodded again and lifted her beautiful eyes to meet his.

  “After ye eat, ye’ll have lessons with Delilah.”

  The troubled expression lit with excitement. “Sword lessons?”

  “Gaelic,” he replied. “And what Delilah likes to refer to as seduction.”

  Ariana’s mouth fell open, and he anticipated a slew of questions.

  Fortunately, Percy appeared between them, saving him from whatever it was Ariana intended to say.

  “Your meal is waiting for you inside,” she said to Ariana with a gentle smile. “Head straight back when you go inside and you’ll find the kitchens. I’ve got a plate of food waiting for you.”

  “Go on, then,” Connor said to Ariana. This time he made a point not to touch her skeletal back.

  She picked up the daggers and deposited them into the weapons trunk before making her way indoors. Like a good soldier. Something akin to pride swelled in his chest.

  He waited until she was out of sight before speaking. “The girl needs to put on some weight.”

  “I’ve already seen to ordering more supplies and will ensure she eats between meals.” Percy tilted her head and looked behind Connor’s shoulder in thought. “I believe I have a tea I can make to strengthen her appetite.”

  He squeezed her shoulder and smiled down at her. “I dinna know what I’d do without ye.”

  “There’s something else.” She caught the end of a lock of hair and twisted it around her finger. “It’s the other girl, Liv.”

  Everyone had been worried about the red-haired lass. Hell, even he’d been concerned at how pale she’d appeared when they arrived.

  His gut tightened, like he’d been hit. “Is she dying?”

  “Um…no.” Percy released the lock of hair and bit down on her lower lip. “She’s pregnant.”

  Chapter 5

  The afternoon found Ariana seated on flimsy pillows in a room swathed with so many lengths of brightly colored silks, the stone walls beneath were impossible to see. Delilah wore a soft velvet gown of crimson and her hair was neatly swept back into a complicated style Ariana had only seen at court.

  Her face was smooth with seriousness when she settled onto the soft cushions.

  “This is an education on seduction,” Delilah said in a reverent tone. “We know our beauty will aid us in gathering information and getting out of trouble. This tutelage is done in an effort to encourage us in feeling powerful enough to wield such a weapon.”

  Ariana shifted on the thin pillow. The chill of the flagstones beneath seeped up through the flimsy padding and left her bottom cold.

  She didn’t feel powerful. She felt silly.

  And she wished Liv were well enough to be sitting beside her so they could laugh over the ridiculousness of it all together later.

  Unperturbed by Ariana’s lack of enthusiasm, Delilah gave a smile as if they had a shared secret. “When you ask for something, make sure you look at a man with incredible interest. Depending on how important the request or how close you are, you may want to look at him the way you’d regard someone you were about to kiss.”

  Ariana let her gaze skim across the silk wall hangings and shrugged. “I’ve not ever kissed a man.”

  “Haven’t you?” Delilah stared at Ariana incredulously. “But you’re so lovely.”

  Ariana already regretted having to waste her time on the lesson with Delilah. Images of the target board stood forefront in her mind and she tried to picture how exactly to hold the dagger between her fingers—the metal cool against her fingertips. Not too tight.

  “You were at court for some time, correct?” Delilah’s brown eyes searched Ariana’s.

  All imagined daggers disappeared from Ariana’s mind. “Yes, for the last six years.”

  “Then how did you not kiss a boy in all that time? I remember them being most eager.”

  She was right. They had been eager. But Ariana had waited patiently for her parents to find the right match. Their attempts were unsuccessful, and when they died the responsibility passed to her brother, Caldwell.

  She hadn’t expected him to spend her dowry.

  Later, she’d discovered her parents had spent far more than their lands generated, resulting in rumors of the family being on the brink of destitution. Only when it was too late to matter did Ariana realize the failed betrothal attempts were not due to ineptitude on her part, but to the very true rumors of their dwindling wealth.

  In all her three and twenty years, Ariana had never kissed a man because she had obediently waited for the one she would marry.

  “Had you?” Ariana replied at last.

  Delilah accepted the change in subject with a pretty flush of her cheeks. “Yes, plenty of times. And men of all types, from an attractive stablehand to…” She leaned forward with a grin. “The king.”

  Ariana studied her, unsure if Delilah was trying to impress her or if she was being truthful. But then Ariana remembered how she had come to be here, and realized they all had their reasons for being brought to Scotland.

  Delilah had not backed up from when she’d leaned closer, and the proximity was almost too much. “You’ve thought of it, at least?” she asked.

  The muscles along Ariana’s back tensed with the desire to draw away, but Delilah seemed so excited and Ariana did not wish to be rude.

  Ariana shook her head.

  Truthfully, she had not. She’d been so fixed on her attempts to placate her parents in the hopes they might pay her the slightest bit of positive attention, she had not so much as considered kissing any man.

  Delilah’s fingers touched Ariana’s chin, feather light, and tilted her face toward hers. “It is the most delicious thing. Close your eyes and I will tell you of it.”

  Obediently, Ariana closed her eyes, hoping if she did as she was told, the lesson would end sooner.

  It was an awkward sensation to sit in the ridiculous pillow-laden room with one’s eyes closed.

  “Relax,” Delilah said in a velvety tone. “Listen.”

  Ariana let her muscles slacken.

  “Imagine a man, tall and lean with muscle.” Delilah’s voice was quietly intimate. Hypnotic. “He’s staring at you as if you were the only woman he’d ever seen. Truly seen. The only woman he’s ever wanted. The desire for you burning in his eyes.”

  Hazel eyes rose to the forefront of Ariana’s mind, a sharp jaw shadowed with a day’s growth of beard.

  Connor.

  She swallowed.

  “His arms come around you,” Delilah continued. “So strong, so warm. They offer you a protection unlike anything you’ve ever
felt and make you wish you could melt into his embrace for the rest of your life.”

  In Ariana’s mind, Connor’s arms wrapped around her. But she didn’t shy from his touch—she welcomed it. The chill of the room ebbed into a pleasant heat.

  “Your eyes meet. His fingers touch your face and his breath whispers over your lips. He lowers his head and you close your eyes just as his mouth touches yours, warm and demanding.”

  Ariana’s heart quickened and her breathing went almost ragged. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she flicked her tongue over her lips.

  “His body is a wall of strength against you, holding you upright, as your knees feel as though they will buckle. Then his tongue strokes yours, velvet fire and heady seduction.”

  Ariana drew a shaky breath.

  Something pounded hard at the door.

  She leapt and her heart lurched into her throat.

  Delilah rose without issue and pulled open the door. A ribbon of cold air drifted in, exquisite where it swept over the blazing heat of Ariana’s face.

  Delilah murmured low, obviously talking to someone else before she spoke out again in a clear tone, announcing the lesson had ended for the day.

  Relieved to escape, burdened with embarrassment, Ariana tried to pull herself upright from the pillows, floundering twice in a fluff of skirts before finally extricating herself from the lavish floor.

  The hall outside was so starkly gray in comparison, it was like walking from daylight to darkness.

  “Ariana,” a deep voice sounded from behind her. “I’m sorry to have interrupted yer lesson. I needed to speak with ye.”

  She spun around and found Connor standing there, all stern authority and stoicism.

  Only seconds ago, she’d been kissing him in her mind.

  God, she’d had herself pressed against him, her body simmering with the most incredible burn. Everything in her had wanted him to kiss her, to hold her.

  The door to Delilah’s room closed and Ariana was left standing in the hall, her mind a wash of chaotic thoughts and scalded embarrassment.

  Connor’s brows lowered. “Are ye fine, lass?”

  Ariana swallowed around her dry throat and gave a vigorous nod.

  “Ye’re red.” He circled a finger in the air toward her. “In the face.”