Page 46 of Awoken
“I hope not, Lady MacDonald,” Fenella replied, her tone chill. “We don’t want yer kind here.”
The words were a slap across the face. Leanna’s shock must have shown upon her face, for a grim expression settled upon Fenella’s. “I have no love for either MacKinnonorMacDonald,” she continued. “My Da served yer father … and when he was injured in a skirmish with cattle rustlers, Niall MacDonald cast him out of his guard. A lame warrior was no good to him … my family nearly starved as a result.”
Heat rushed through Leanna. “I don’t believe it … my father would never treat one of his men so.”
Fenella’s pretty face turned hard. “Whether or not ye believe it matters not to me … it happened.” She shifted toward the open door. “Enjoy yer supper.”
The door shut with a dull thud, leaving Leanna and Ross alone once more. Only this time, the glow of the oil lantern illuminated the interior of the hut, revealing that there was in fact a screen in one corner, which would no doubt have a chamber pot behind it.
After a moment, Ross moved over to the tray, picked it up, and set it down between them. He then folded his long legs into a cross-legged position and tore off a piece of bread.
Leanna didn’t move. The outlaw woman’s words had upset her. She’d been hungry earlier, but now her appetite had just died.
Tearing her attention from the closed door, Leanna glanced over at Ross to find him watching her. He was chewing a mouthful of bread, his expression guarded.
“Don’t mind her,” he said once he’d swallowed his mouthful. “Bitterness makes a person speak harshly.”
“She lies,” Leanna replied stiffly. “My father would never behave in such a callous manner.”
Ross raised an eyebrow. “I met MacDonald a few times … and would say he possessed a much better character than MacKinnon does. All the same, a man must have an edge of brutality to him if he wishes to rule. He managed a vast tract of land and would have made enemies over the years.”
Leanna’s spine went rigid, and she glared at Ross. “His people loved him!”
Ross inclined his head. “What a short memory ye have. Do ye not recall the sashes worn by those outlaws who attacked yer father’s party?” When Leanna didn’t reply, he continued. “It wasMacDonaldplaid.”
The truth of his words tasted bitter in Leanna’s mouth, yet she couldn’t argue with him over it. She’d seen their sashes. They were deserters from her father’s guard.
Tears pricked the back of her eyes then, and she lowered her gaze to where her hands clasped before her upon her lap. “I’ve always believed those on MacDonald lands were happy,” she said softly.
Ross didn’t reply, and when Leanna finally glanced up, she saw that he wore a weary expression. “We both have lived in worlds of relative privilege, Leanna,” he said softly. “I might have suffered numerous beatings during my childhood, but I never knew what it was like to go hungry, to go without shoes or a warm cloak in the winter. There are folk upon this isle who have known too much hardship to warm to the likes of us.”
The brutality of his words made Leanna flinch. “Do I really seem so foolish?” she asked after a pause, her throat thickening. “So spoiled?”
“No,” he replied softly. “But ye are part of a class that has made Craeg the Bastard’s band loved throughout southern Skye.”
Leanna cocked her head. “Ye sound as if ye admire them?”
He laughed. “Maybe I do. It takes a brave man to go against those who rule … this band is known for taking MacKinnon’s silver and giving it to those who’d starve otherwise.”
Leanna’s mouth curved. “I’d wager he’s furious about that.”
“Aye … MacKinnon’s face went the color of a turnip when he first discovered that his bastard brother was stealing his supplies and coin, and handing them over to the poor.” Ross halted there, his expression turning thoughtful. “Craeg knows he’s on borrowed time, for the clan-chief will hunt him down one day … but he doesn’t seem to care.”
“Ye respect him, don’t ye?”
Ross shrugged. “Aye … and I envy him a little. He’s free. He serves no man but himself.”
Listening to Ross, Leanna caught the wistful note in his voice. He was a complex individual, she realized. When she’d first met him, she’d thought him ruthless and arrogant, but the past day had revealed that there was far more to Ross Campbell than met the eye. Leaving Dunan had freed something within him, and she got the feeling that he never spoke this frankly to anyone.
Not for the first time, she felt drawn to him. Warmth spread through her abdomen, and her breathing quickened as she watched him under slightly lowered lids. She forgot what Fenella had said about her father. Suddenly, the world shrank to this hut and the man who sat before her.
She wanted to tell him how much he fascinated her, how she longed for him to kiss her again—yet she wisely held her tongue. She was untutored in many things, but she knew when it was wise to avoid a subject.
Instead, Leanna reached for the bread and tore a piece off for herself.
Ross unstoppered the bottle of ale and poured it into two wooden cups. Taking a sip, he found his attention returning—once more—to the comely young woman seated just a few feet away.
The air was now close and stuffy inside the hut, and so she’d shed both cloaks, revealing the dark habit she wore beneath. However, without her wimple and veil, she didn’t appear a nun. The braid that hung down her back was messy, and strands of pale blonde hair had come free, curling prettily around her face.
