Page 59 of Beloved Enemy
Reid agreed. “We cannae face them head-on. We need the high ground. We’ll climb the mountain, make use of the terrain.”
Tavish nodded sharply and turned to rally the men while Simeon delivered Reid’s horse to him.
While Simeon held the reins, Reid gripped Charlotte by the waist and lifted her effortlessly into the saddle. Their eyes met briefly and she glimpsed a flicker of worry in his dark gaze, which unnerved her.
She had barely settled when he swung up behind her, his arms caging her in as he took the reins.
With a swift command to his men, they began to move, the force of forty Highlanders galloping toward the steep ascent of the mountain.
Reid, however, did not immediately join the retreat. He paused, facing the approaching army, paused so long that Charlotte twisted to look at him, her heart hammering with fear, wondering what he was doing. She saw only that his eyes were narrowed as he examined the army threatening them. Just as she opened her mouth to urge him to move with his men, he did so, turning the steed around.
Reid’s voice was low but firm as he steered the horse toward the mountainside. “Hold on, lass. We ride hard now.”
Chapter Sixteen
A low-hanging moon cast a pale light over rolling hills as Reid and his men finally neared the safety of Nicholson lands. It had, after all, been a fairly simple escape, forcing the horses higher into the rocky crags, taking paths that only mountain goats dared. Their pursuers, such as they were, hadn’t committed to much of a pursuit. Reid wasn’t even sure they’d attempted to give chase up the mountain at all.
Reid and his men had stumbled upon a narrow shepherd’s trail, barely wide enough for a single horse, and had followed it in single file for more than a mile. The enemy wasn’t prepared for this kind of terrain, and the sound of distant hooves had faded hours ago.
But the weight of what had almost happened, and what it meant, still pressed heavily on Reid’s mind.
Their escape had been successful, but the supposed attack itself raised too many questions—questions that all led back to the woman in front of him. With the threat of danger long gone and his men scattered around in loose formations and Kingswood so close, Reid’s mind churned with the suspicion that he had been played.
Charlotte slept in his arms, her head leaned against his chest, unaware of the dark storm brewing in his thoughts. He tightened his grip on the reins, staring ahead into the night, but his mind was back on the clearing, on the enemy army that had ridden toward them.
English, he’d since deduced, for the gleam of polished plate armor, far different from the leather and cloth of Scottish troops. Their formations were too neat for Highlanders; the force rode in tight, organized lines, unlike the more flexible and scattered Highland tactics. Reid had studied them as much as timeallowed, had recognized English warhorses, bred for knights and heavy armor.
Bits and pieces started to fit together in ways he didn’t want to believe.
He could not ignore the facts: Angus’s report of strange goings-on close to his cottage at an ungodly hour, involving English voices, ones that sounded like Charlotte.Huddled and meeting, the old man had said.
Charlotte insisting that Reid take hertodayto the mountain.
He thought back to how insistent she had been about staying at the mountain, claiming she hoped to return to her time. It was all too convenient. She’d wanted to linger there, and for what? To ensure the enemy had enough time to reach them? And when the riders approached, she had whined, “Notnow!” as if she knew exactly what was coming. Mayhap she hadn’t wanted to be caught in the middle of it.
A slow, burning suspicion began to take root in his chest. She was no witch, and perhaps not even a lost traveler, as she claimed. He had kissed her, touched her, and believed her innocent. But what if it had all been a lie? A distraction?
What if she were simply a spy?
His jaw clenched at the thought.
The first time since Elspeth that he’d allowed himself to feel anything for a woman—and Christ, he’d all but confessed as much to her, and had felt ridiculously pleased for how his revelation had silenced her, had seemingly made her willing to stay—and now this. Lies, all of it, every uttered word, every adorable expression, each mesmerizing kiss. A different betrayal than how Elspeth had forsaken him for another, but no less bitter. He had let his guard down, let Charlotte pull him in with those wide, curious eyes and her ridiculous tales of time travel. He’d been the fool, thinking he’d been the one leading her, when in truth she had been guiding him, manipulating him with herfeigned innocence. It had all been a ploy, a trick. She’d used her wiles to distract him, and with such expert skill level that he had believed himself the aggressor, the instigator of both kisses.
The conversation they’d had earlier in the midst of their escape replayed in his mind. She had asked, in that soft, sweet voice, who the army might have been. So casually—too casually, now that he thought about it. At the time, her wide-eyed ignorance had seemed genuine enough, but now... Now it felt like an act.
"Reid, who were they?" she had asked. "Do you think they’re after us? Or was that just some random army looking for trouble?"
He’d given her a vague answer, too preoccupied with the danger to notice the subtle probing in her questions. She’d seemed concerned, anxious even, and he’d assumed she feared the same danger they all did. But now... now he wondered if her anxiety had been something else entirely. She’d kept pressing for details, asking about the army’s colors, their tactics, how long they might have been watching. She’d asked about his plans, where they would go, how long they’d stay up in the mountains.
It wasn’t fear, he surmised now, it was reconnaissance. Gathering information.
His grip tightened on the saddle’s pommel. His instincts, sharpened by years of war, screamed that he had been deceived.
He glanced down at her sleeping form, feeling the weight of his suspicions press hard against the flicker of emotion he’d let himself feel for her. Damn it all. He hated this—hated how much he suspected her of deception, how much the pieces seemed to fit too neatly. She had to be involved. There was no other explanation. And yet, even now, with the cold night air biting at his skin, he wasn’t immune to the warmth of her body nestled against his, and how much he enjoyed having her in his arms.
It frustrated him to no end that, despite his mind screaming at him to treat her as an enemy, his body still responded to her presence. Her softness, her scent—God, it twisted something inside him that he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. She had wormed her way past every defense he’d built over the years, and now he was stuck, torn between trusting his gut and the undeniable pull she had on him.
Reid gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched tight.
