Everyone had believed the spy to be a good man. But Kieran should have seen through the façade then, just as he should have seen through it now. If he could be so easily fooled, how could he protect his family? How could he be laird to the MacDonalds?
“Mariel is not the same. She is a good woman.”
Rage coursed through his veins, fueled by past mistakes. “How can ye say that?”
“She had no choice. Can you not see? Look at what I did to free myself when Dougal was beaten.” Blair sank down into her seat and motioned for him to do the same. “Let me ask you this. If Dougal and I were held captive and to free us you had to act as a spy and possibly kill a man you did not know, what would you do?”
Kieran sat heavily in the chair and avoided Blair’s gaze. He knew exactly what he would do and so did she. “She should have told me,” he ground out with great irritation.
Blair’s eyebrow quirked up. “Did she not try?”
His mind flashed to the memory of Mariel standing in the moonlight, the air crackling with the frenzied pull of battle as she pleaded with him to speak to her. He had been fixated on the rush of men climbing toward them, and the danger her location placed her in. Something tightened in his chest at the image of her tear streaked face. Blair was right. Mariel had been desperate to talk and now he understood why.
“I’ll be going back to bed now.” Blair rose from her seat, but did not walk away. “I think you have some more talking to do with Mariel, aye?”
Kieran grunted again and tried to change the subject to more important matters. “I want a guard with ye at all times when ye are awake, and one stationed at yer door and Dougal’s when ye sleep.”
Mariel may be locked in the cellar and Blair may have faith in her, but Kieran was not about to take any chances.
“I will so long as you promise to speak to Mariel when I leave.” She folded her arms over her chest, and Kieran knew the conversation was done.
He heaved a tired sigh. The women of Caisteal Camus would be the death of him one way or another. “Verra well.”
After securing a warrior to guard Blair and Dougal, Kieran made good on his promise and trudged toward the cellar once more. He bit back a curse and pulled the heavy door to the stairs open. If it weren’t for Blair, he would not be coming down to see Mariel again. Or so he told himself.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped. Something was wrong. The room was unnaturally still and Colin no longer stood guard. The cell door was open. His stomach clenched.
Mariel had fooled him again.
Kieran crossed the narrow floor, anticipating an empty prison.
Instead he found Colin sitting on the dirty floor with Mariel’s head cradled in his lap as she slept soundly.
Kieran gritted his teeth. Colin had wasted no time laying claim to what belonged to Kieran.
What had belonged to him, he amended to himself.
“Colin, what—”
“Shh!” Colin gave him a sharp look. “The lass needs sleep. She is exhausted, and I’ll no have ye waking her.”
Kieran let out a low curse. “I dinna care how tired she is. She wouldna be here had she been honest from the beginning.”
Did everyone take her damn side?
Colin opened his mouth to protest when Mariel shifted on the floor.
“How did I fall asleep?” Her voice was raspy with exhaustion. She climbed to her feet with Colin’s aid.
An unexpected wave of sympathy washed over Kieran. She did look tired. Her eyes were red rimmed and swollen. His heart hardened. He would not be as weak as the others. He did not have that luxury.
“Colin, leave.” Kieran stared directly at Mariel. “We need to talk.”
Colin hesitated before brushing past Kieran. He stared down at Mariel and suddenly felt as tired as she looked. This had gone on too damn long already.
“Why dinna ye tell me before now? I told ye I would help.”
The door at the top of the stairs opened once more. Irritation bristled along Kieran’s back.
Mariel obviously heard the interruption too. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she spoke in a rushed tone. “I tried so many times. But if you didn’t believe me or you killed me, Jack would have no one. I finally decided to trust you but it was too late—”
Hamish interrupted her confession. “Laird?”
Kieran spun around with his hand on the hilt of his sword, making clear the threat. “What? What is it ye want?”
Hamish eyed the hilt and spoke in Gaelic, “There was a messenger on the coast earlier. Said he had a package for Mariel Brandon. I heard ye were awake and thought it best to bring it down here to ye.”
“Where is he now?” Kieran demanded. Finally, he could have confirmation of Mariel’s story.
Hamish shifted uncomfortably. “The guards, they dinna know about Mariel and so they let him go.” He handed Kieran a smooth wooden box the size of a man’s fist.
“Let me see it,” Mariel said, in Gaelic.
Kieran turned to her, unable to hide his shock. Mariel spoke Gaelic. Did the level of her deception have no limit?
He frowned and rolled the box in his hands. Something inside thunked against the wooden walls.
“Oh God, please stop.” The color drained from Mariel’s face as she approached. “I know that box. It’s from Aaron.” She reached with a trembling hand. “Let me see it.”
He hesitated at her request. The box was too small to hold a weapon of any bearing. Besides, she’d have to get through himself and Hamish first. An unlikely feat. With a shrug, Kieran dropped the parcel into her outstretched hand.
Mariel held it for a long minute, her eyes fixed on the harmless token. For someone so desperate, she certainly took a long time to open it.
She drew a deep breath and pulled the lid back. Her eyes went wide and her hands trembled. “No,” she whispered.
The echo of her frantic breathing filled the room. “No,” she said again and shook her head vigorously. The box tumbled from her hand and landed in the rushes, the sound muted by the howling cry ripping from her throat.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mariel backed away from the box. Bile rose in her throat and choked off her cry.
The finger lying in the dirty straw was too small to be that of an adult.
Jack needed her. Now.
And she knew exactly what to do.
Her mind ticked through calculated points of her escape. The door to her cell stood open, but she would have to defeat Hamish and Kieran first. Based on what Hamish said earlier, very few people knew about her façade. That worked to her benefit.
Both men gaped at her in shock. She could use that to her advantage. While Kieran stood closest to her, he was stronger and would be more difficult to defeat. Hamish, however, was still young. His body was not yet honed with refined battle skills. Her decision was made.
She rushed Hamish and hit the young warrior under the jaw with her forearm. He slid to the floor as she rounded on Kieran.
Any hope she had at catching him off guard had been dashed by her attack on Hamish. Kieran lunged toward her, but she was faster than him and evaded his grasp by darting toward the back of the cell. He took the bait and advanced, thinking he had her cornered. She waited until he opened his arms to grab her before pitching forward into a somersault across the cellar floor.
By the time she stood, he was already in front of her again. Frustration threatened her composure. She hadn’t realized he could move that quickly.
Her feet were light underneath her. She spun to the right and feinted to the left in an effort to confuse him. The door stood open just three steps away. If she could manage to lock Kieran behind the door, she could escape toward freedom. Toward Jack. She was almost there.
Kieran’s arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her against his chest so her feet dangled uselessly above the ground.
“Let me go,” she hissed. She flailed in his arms, but no amount of squirming or writhing would loosen h
is grip.
Desperate for escape, she lifted her elbow and brought it down hard on his temple—a move that would send any normal man into unconsciousness. Kieran, however, narrowed his eyes and remained upright.
“Hit me like a man again and expect me to treat ye like one.”
She pushed against his chest, anxious to be free of his viselike hold. No matter how hard she struggled, he did not release her. “Let me go.” The words came out as a pathetic whimper. “He needs me. Please.”
Helpless tears ran down her cheeks, but she did not care. If she could not escape in time, Jack would die.
“I said I’d help ye.” Kieran’s arms tightened further still.
Mariel shook her head miserably. “There’s not enough time.”
He met her eyes with an earnest expression. “The sun is almost up. Let my warriors break their fast while the lads prepare our horses, and then we’ll leave.”
He believed her. But for the first time since she met him, it mattered little. Nothing would replace Jack’s finger or erase the fear and hurt he must have felt.
Mariel struggled against Kieran’s grasp once more. “There’s no time. I can travel faster alone. Kieran, he needs me.”
A dark eyebrow lifted, and he regarded her with a look of skepticism. “And what would ye do by yerself when ye arrived?”
“I had a plan,” she confessed. “I’ve had one since I came to Skye.”
His stare hardened. “And why did ye no do it?”
She couldn’t stand the accusation in his gaze, but still she didn’t look away. “Because it was too risky. I would be going off the assumption that Aaron had Jack at the manor. And I would be one person against many. I thought if I found Blair and Dougal, I could somehow save you and save Jack at the same time. But after I realized who Blair and Dougal were…”
Kieran cocked his head for her to continue.
“If I left and proceeded with my plan, they would have no protection,” she answered with a solemn tone that resonated in her heart. “I couldn’t do that to them.”
Kieran was quiet for a moment. When he answered, his voice was softer than it’d been since she peeled off her mask. “I dinna know if what ye were planning was stupid or brave, but I dinna recommend it. In two hours’ time we will be ready to leave. Our ships are faster than anything ye could find resting on the shore, and our horses are better prepared for long distance than anything ye could steal. No to mention when ye arrive and find yerself alone, what would ye do with no army behind ye?”
Instead of waiting for an answer, he released her. The imprint of warmth his body left on hers immediately cooled in the damp chill of the cellar. The door still stood open, taunting her with impulsive freedom.
Her shoulders sagged. Kieran’s words rang true. She had no plan, no army, and no equipment. Two hours seemed like a lifetime, but it was a sacrifice she had to make.
“Please get rid of it,” she whispered and turned away from where the box lay on the ground. “I can’t…look at it…”
His face softened, and he disappeared behind her. The lid of the wooden box snapped closed.
Mariel suppressed a shudder of unease. “It’s a warning. Aaron is displeased with the length of time I am taking and wants me to know.”
A groan sounded at her feet from Hamish’s crumpled form.
The young warrior struggled to a standing position. His ruddy cheeks were a darker red than usual, and his glare was focused on her. She had wounded the pride of a boy just turning into a man. The days of his indifference were over.
Kieran, however, did not seem to notice or care. “Hamish, go tell the lads to get the horses ready for a long trip and gather nine of my best warriors. We leave in two hours.”
The narrowed look of betrayal on Hamish’s face furrowed into confusion. “Ye’re helping her?”
Kieran gave him a stern look. “Ye have yer orders, now go.”
Hamish kept his angry stare fixed on Mariel and trudged out of her cell in compliance with orders he clearly did not agree with.
Kieran turned toward Mariel with a shuttered expression. “Let’s get ye some food before we ride out.” He strode toward the stairs. When she did not follow, he returned to her cell once more. “Are ye no hungry?”
Mariel cast him a wary look and took a slow step forward. “Are you saying I can leave?”
“Aye, ye need to eat a solid breakfast before we ride.” He paused and looked down at her. “I can trust ye?”
“You can,” she said with conviction. “You definitely can.”
• • •
Kieran leaned against the rough bark of a tree and gazed into the heart of the clearing spread before him. The figures of his men were outlined against the shadows cast by the setting sun where they trained. The mock fighting was arduous after a long day of travel, but necessary. Witnessing Mariel’s unique attack style made that evident.
Were it not for her instruction, Kieran’s men would have been at a disadvantage during the attack, at least for the first several minutes. With an army of only ten, minutes made all the difference.
Soon this would be over. The threat against his life would be removed and once again his family would be safe.
In the distance, Mariel’s lithe form arched backward in a neat flip in a successful attempt to avoid Hamish’s blade. The lad still stung from the insult of being bested by a woman. A fact evident in the way he fought. His blade whipped in angry arcs toward her, powered by fury and the need to redeem himself. Lacking the finesse he’d been instructed to use.
Mariel avoided each swipe of the blade as though she were anticipating the movements. Inevitably, Hamish began to tire. His sword lowered for the slightest second, but that was all she needed. Her foot caught Hamish’s sword hand and sent the weapon to the ground. She wasted no time spinning behind him, and then pressed her dagger against his neck. Her hand on his shoulder signaled his defeat.
Kieran had to admit, he was impressed with her fighting skills. While unconventional, they were effective. The complicated rolls and tumbles she executed made her impossibly fast.
Not only was she a strong opponent, she also handled the men incredibly well. She remained patient as she explained maneuvers and instructed without fear or hesitation. Her energy was as endless as her patience, and she performed the same moves over and over again when requested. Most impressive of all though was the way the men responded to her.
Initially Kieran thought the men would bristle under the direction of a woman, especially once they learned the reason for her presence and the goal of their mission. However, over the last two days she had won over every man in the group.
He eyed Hamish stewing in the shade over his defeat. Almost every man.
Kieran himself had spoken little to Mariel outside of tactical discussions. Unfortunately, not talking did not mean he was not aware of her presence, particularly when she insisted on wearing the black men’s clothing while training.
She did not appear to realize the way the fabric hugged the rounded curve of her arse and accentuated her long limbs. Certainly she had no idea the way her full breasts strained against the shirt or how evident her nipples were when they pebbled in the sharp spring air. Underneath, he knew, she was perfumed silk and creamy flesh. Despite all that had transpired between them, he could not stop his mind from the lustful thoughts, or his cock from rising hard against his belly.
In an effort to calm his desire, he shifted his gaze to where Colin and Alec were locked in battle. Even from her position several paces away, Mariel offered praise and instruction to the two.
There had been a dark change in her since their departure. She joked with the men periodically and offered uplifting comments but was otherwise silent and kept to herself. The delicate features of her face were usually strained in a frown, and her brow furrowed while she stared into nothing, as though running through the battle plan in her head. She had the focus of a warrior.
No longer did he doubt anything she�
��d told him, yet it changed nothing. She was an assassin, and he was a laird protecting his family.
Mariel jogged to where Kieran stood and scooped a ladle of water from the pail beside him. Her chin tilted upward, and the milky expanse of her neck was exposed as she parted her lips and drank deeply. Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion of her training. A droplet of water clung to her lower lip and her tongue flicked out unconsciously to catch it. Kieran’s groin tightened. The scent of roses caressed him and brought back a rush of memories he could not fight.
She was not looking at him, though. Like a good leader, she watched over the men as they fought.
“I have yet to train with you, Kieran,” her voice was gentle, and her tone without malice.
He grunted. “Havena I already bested ye twice?”
She did not react to the barb. “That was on your territory. I think we should try on mine.”
Things had been strained between them for the duration of their travels. Perhaps a good fight would help. Regardless, he was not about to ignore the challenge thrown at his feet. “I have no problem defeating ye again.”
“We’ll see.” She met his gaze. God, she was beautiful when she looked at him like that.
She lifted the ladle to her parted lips once more. This time water spilled down the corner of her mouth as she drank. Desire slammed into him, leaving him hot, hard, and incredibly irritated. The ladle landed in the bucket with a hollow clunk, and Mariel ran back to the men without so much as glance in his direction.
Her bottom swayed side to side, and her long legs were graceful as one foot fell in front of the other. Kieran shifted his aching cock to a more comfortable position. If fighting in a gown weren’t impossible, he would insist on it. How was he supposed to focus on the task at hand when the slightest glance at her made him throb with desire?
The sun was already going down and the nearby loch was exactly what he needed to cool his heated blood.
“That’s enough, men,” he called. “Let’s set up camp before it gets too dark.”
They would be sleeping in the forest surrounding the very field they practiced on. It was nothing his men were not used to. While the mission was different than any other they’d had before, the men had no problem adjusting.
Deception of a Highlander Page 24