Page 23 of Highlander Redeemed
Scotia tugged on his hand. “Do you not agree?”
“Agree?” He had to think hard to remember what she was referring to. Her training ... it came back to him ... redoubling her training. “Aye. Agreed, and after what I have seen today”—now he took her hands in both of his—“you have handled yourself well all through this long, tiring day—I think you are ready for something a bit more difficult to master than the exercises and drills we have been working on.”
Her impish smile returned. “What will that be?”
He could not help but smile back at her. “That is for tomorrow. Are you not hungry, lass? I am famished.” He wrapped one of her hands in his, unwilling to release her just yet, and led her back to the trail. He was surprised to find himself very hungry ... and not just for his dinner.
They did not speak as they made their way back to the caves, but he noticed she did not make any effort to let go of his hand. As they got close the sound of voices threaded through the trees, Scotia stopped, pulling him to a stop, too.
“Was I right?” she asked. “Allies?”
It was only then that Duncan remembered what ... who ... awaited them in the clearing.
“Aye, Scotia, you were right. ’Tis the MacGregor clan. Thirteen men arrived.” He could not decide whether to warn her of Conall’s arrival or to see how she reacted when she discoveredhim in the camp, but he did not want to test her new resolve so soon. “Conall MacGregor is among them.”
She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes, but she did not take her hand from his . “I was wondering when he would turn up. Da did not skin him on the spot?”
“Nay.” Duncan tried not to hold his breath as he waited to see if she was pleased or displeased that the lad had arrived. “Nicholas did not let him.”
Scotia’s brows shot up. “Did not let him? Nicholas, not Uilliam?”
“Nicholas, but he has gained a new oath from Conall. Will you make him break it? Will you help put the lad’s life in danger again now that he is here?”
“Nay!” Indignation resonated in the single word as she stepped back from him quickly as if he’d slapped her.
“Why not?” he couldn’t help but ask.
She huffed, but her shoulders did not rise. If anything, she stood taller, her shoulders down and back, like a warrior. “Because everything is different now. I am different now. Can you not see that? I have no time for trysting with a lad.”
“Trysting?”
She stared at him, but did not answer the question that hung heavy in the air between them. Duncan found himself wanting to throttle Conall at just the idea that perhaps there was more than a few stolen kisses between him and Scotia. He should have kept a closer eye on Scotia, kept her away from Conall, away from that damned wall that could easily have killed both her and Rowan, and now it would seem Conall as well. He should have ...
“Duncan,” she said, her eyes narrowed, “you’ll not hurt him.”
“Why not?”
“We need every warrior we can get—”
“He is no—”
“Aye, he is. Not a good one yet, but he is a warrior. Do you think I would let just any lad kiss me?”
The minx taunted him, and he knew she saw that he wasconcerned for more than her behavior with Conall in the past. He was certain she saw the slash of possessiveness that gripped him, a possessiveness that was heightened by the implication that she might let him kiss her again in spite of what she had said just a few hours ago.
“I have no intention of taking up with Conall again, Duncan.” Her voice was softer now, low and soft, as if she wished to gentle his emotions, though her voice, her scent, and her hesitant touch on his arm did anything but calm him. “But I will not allow you or Da or Nicholas to harm him for what has happened in the past. The past is done and cannot be changed.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she said, “We must focus only on the future,” as if she said the words as much to herself as to him.
Duncan’s stomach chose that instant to growl, breaking the solemn moment. Scotia snorted, and quirked one finely arched eyebrow at him. “Perhaps we can think about the present, too.” She hooked her arm through his and pulled him along. “At least until have we have supped!”
THE NEXT MORNINGDuncan followed Scotia just far enough to find where she had left the trail for her daily task of disguising her destination with a circuitous, hard even for Duncan to follow, route. He looked around to make sure no one would see as he slipped silently into the thick wood on the opposite side of the trail and waited, hidden by the bracken, just long enough to determine that no one followed either of them. Once he was sure, he headed through the wood, taking care that no one could easily follow him, either, and before long came to the training area in the bottom of the glen where either Malcolm or Uilliam drilled the lads each day.
Two of Malcolm’s kin were there, sparring with such determination that the clash of sword on shield and the clang of sword on sword rang out through the clearing as if there were many more warriors battling. They did not seem to notice Duncan as he made his way over to a cone-shaped tent where the practice weapons were stored. He pulled a flap up, grabbed one of the wooden swords that was weighted with bits of lead wrapped in bands around the “blade” and pommel to better simulate the heft of a real sword. Scotia needed to strengthen her arm and her grip, and her sticks were not ever going to do that.
Her reaction to not becoming a Guardian yesterday had convinced him that she was ready to move forward in her training. She recognized the strength of her emotions and took action to manage them before she loosed her temper on anyone. ’Twas quite a milestone for the lass.
Of course he knew she would greet the practice weapon with a grin, or a smile, or a teasing comment, and he had to admit that was as much motivation for him rewarding her with the wooden weapon as were the needs of her training.
He left the training ground as if he had nowhere particular to be, then slipped back into the wood, took more time than he wanted to cover his trail, and finally arrived in the tiny open area in the forest where Scotia kept her weapons. He held the practice sword behind his back as he stepped from between two large oaks.
