Page 28 of Rebellion's Fire

“Your father and a Norman knight sent by the king to take my father after Stracathro.” Stracathro… The battle by which King David had defeated the rebellious young Earls of Moray and Ross. The Earl of Moray had died in battle, but his brother, Malcolm MacHeth, Earl of Ross, had escaped and eluded capture for another two years. The king had deprived him and his sons of the earldom, outlawed the family, and when Malcolm was finally captured, he was imprisoned in Roxburgh Castle, almost as far away from Ross as you could get without leaving the kingdom.

“So, I was injured by my father defending yours,” she said a little shakily. “No wonder my mother never told that story. It wouldn’t have looked good to the King of Scots.”

His eyes fell. He had very long lashes. “It’s past. It shouldn’t affect your future.”

She straightened her shoulders, regarding him with a touch of mockery. “So you do have second sight.”

“That was only common sense.”

She wasn’t sure what made her do it. Mere curiosity, perhaps, or pique. Her gaze lit on his big, scarred hand, abstractly swirling his cup. She reached out and seized his hand as if to still it.

It jerked, slopping the wine over the barrel, but that wasn’t enough to dislodge her fingers, and she hung on.

“You don’t like to be touched, do you?” she said, holding his startled gaze.

“By some.” His stormy eyes darkened further. “I like your touch.”

Which wasn’t quite what she’d intended, although she’d brought it on herself. Flushing, but forcing herself not to snatch her hand back, she asked, “Do you see things?”

His breath rushed out on what might have been a laugh, quite at odds with the burning of his eyes. Without warning, his hand twisted, curling his fingers around hers. “Many things.”

His eyes seemed to swallow her. His fingers burned into her skin, and she couldn’t breathe.

From beyond the curtain came a sudden fit of coughing. Adam MacHeth blinked and released her. Relief flooded her. It must have been relief, although she couldn’t account for the curious coldness of her fingers. As the curtain swung back, he stood, blocking her view of the doorway.

“She isn’t here,” he said.

The curtain swished back.

“Eua,” he said, even as her lips parted to ask. “We’d better go. She won’t be the only one who saw you come in here.”

Under her bemused gaze, he strode to the back of the booth, loosening his cloak, and dropped to the packed mud ground. The wall didn’t quite meet it. In fact, there was a dip in the earth, almost designed, one would have imagined, for an alternative exit. Adam MacHeth grinned at her, for all the world like a mischievous boy, and threw her his cloak, which she caught from instinct before he rolled onto his stomach and wriggled through the gap.

It was happening again. Like climbing onto the massive horse all by herself, like riding with him at breakneck speed…Wicked fun surged up inside her. Wrapping herself speedily in his cloak, she dropped and imitated his wriggle under the wall.

His boots were planted right in front of her. She could feel heat, hear loud voices, and clatter, and then she was yanked to her feet in an open booth that seemed to be selling hot broth or stew. So far as she could tell, no one paid them a blind bit of attention, but then, Adam was blocking her view again. Or protecting her from curious eyes.

His hands rested on her waist, strong and heavy. His face, alight with fun, bent closer. Sudden butterflies in her stomach dived. And his eyes weren’t laughing anymore. His breath hitched. Without warning, he closed his mouth on hers.

She gasped in shock. Swiftly, he dragged his mouth the length of her lips, reaching even under the linen of her mask, before releasing her.

“Iwillcome back for you,” he muttered, and before she could even think what he meant, let alone speak, one of his hands fell away, and he whisked her out of the open booth, spinning her away from him, whipping the dirty cloak away from her as she went. She caught a glimpse of busy strangers in the alley backing onto the one she’d left. A glint of armor flickered in the crowd.

Her stomach tightened. Stupidly worried for him now, since he didn’t seem to have his men with him and hers would have been happy to kill him if they only recognized him, she turned back to warn him. He wasn’t there.

She walked into the middle of the alley, peering between two plump women in bright-colored shawls drawn up over their heads. She might have seen a black head and a muddy red-brown cloak vaulting over the jewelry stall, but she couldn’t be sure.

Slipping among the crowd, still slightly stunned, she resisted the temptation to touch her lips. She supposed kissing her must have been some kind of cover that she couldn’t quite understand. Or so she told herself, but as she walked around the market, waiting to be discovered by Eua or Felicia or one of the men-at-arms, the ridiculous thought that clung in her mind was that, although she had been a wife for four years, Adam MacHeth was the first man who had ever kissed her lips since she was a tiny child. And that even though it had been a pretense, for some reason, she was glad.

*

The next day,on the sail home, despite the language barrier, Felicia and Eua still shared their gleeful triumph. Between them, they’d tricked the jewelry merchant into bringing down his price and were now the proud owners of pretty, pewter, carved rings, which Christian duly admired. Felicia claimed to have seen similar rings on the fingers of great ladies in the south, although made from gold and silver. Christian assured them the pewter was just as pretty and the craftsmanship equally good. Gratified, Felicia and Eua gabbled together in an odd mixture of French, English, and Gaelic, which, together with a certain amount of gesticulating, seemed to create enough understanding.

Away from Alys and Cecily, Felicia seemed to show more character. She was certainly more appealing, and Christian was not the only one who noticed. Henry, who up until now had more or less ignored her women beyond basic civility, turned his head toward Felicia several times during their return journey. In fact, at one point, he sat beside her. And Eua, perhaps feeling like a gooseberry, moved to the bench beside Christian instead.

“What did he want?” she asked, low.

“I think he’s discovered there’s more to Felicia than he thought.”

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