Page 38 of Rebellion's Fire

She took a clean dressing from her box and used old linen strips to bind them around his body. This brought her too close to him. He smelled too warm, too male, reminding her of his embrace in Rosemarkie. Beneath her suddenly clumsy hands, his back and chest were hard with muscle. Worse, his hair brushed against her cheek, and she could have sworn he actually dipped his head closer rather than leaning back to avoid her.

But then, he was weak with loss of blood.

The hall began to empty while she worked, the men-at-arms sent back to their duties since the MacHeth presence presented an added danger. Her heart twisted with guilt. If only they knew how much danger. But she couldn’t risk William knowing he had Adam MacHeth in his power. He could and probably would ruin everything.

When she finished and drew back, Adam’s gaze still rested on her face.

“What?” she demanded.

He stirred. “I’m wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

“Many things. For one, why you haven’t told Lanson who I am.”

“I’m considering what’s best.”

His head dropped back against the wall, a smile flickering and vanishing on his lips. No wonder. They both knew she couldn’t give him away now. If she’d been going to, she’d have done it as soon as she recognized him.

He said, “What will Lanson ask for Cailean?”

“Silver and the village of Knockalsh.”

Adam blinked. “Is that what you told him?”

“What makes you think I’d presume?”

“The fact that he wouldn’t acknowledge it was in Donald’s power to give land. We’re outlaws to the King of Scots.”

“William is a realist,” Christian said, closing her box. “He must work with matters as they are, not as how they should be.”

“Yes, he must,” Adam said gravely. “So, he should know that is too much to ask for Cailean mac Gilleon here. Donald will pay a silver penny for him. The lady my mother will double that since she has a kindness for him.”

“And for the villainous servant?” she inquired, rising to her feet. She wanted to smile because, despite his wound, he was joking, and because beside him, the appalled Cailean clearly hadn’t yet realized it.

Adam tipped his head farther back, following her with his gaze. “They might send you a cake now and then, just to keep him here. Thank you.”

For some reason, his thanks, or perhaps just his sudden seriousness, disturbed her. She could no longer meet his gaze.

“My people will bring you blankets,” she muttered. “Do you need anything else?”

He shifted his foot, making the chain rattle. “The key?”

She didn’t grace that with an answer.

*

Like his captain,Cailean watched the Lady of Tirebeck leave the hall in something of a daze. He rather thought he’d made a discovery that explained so many of Adam’s odd actions concerning her. There may have been his sense of justice, maybe even compassion for her intolerable position, but mostly, Adam just liked her.

Perhaps the poppy juice had loosened Cailean’s tongue or given him false courage, for he said, “I’d sing you mournful love songs if only I had a lute.”

“I might not kill you, if only you could play it. If you sleep, Cailean, be ready to wake on the instant and move quickly.”

Appalled, Cailean stared at him. “You can’t leave tonight. You’re in no state to go anywhere, even without a fight.”

“On the contrary, it has to be tonight,” he said grimly. “While the poppy is working.”

“She’ll give you more in the morning,” Cailean argued.

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