Page 64 of Rebellion's Fire

The shepherd’s wife smiled slyly. “And yet here you are defending her, the woman who supplanted you as lady, in fact, if not in title.”

“You think she was deliberately seducing Adam MacHeth?” Eua said with frank disbelief that had nothing to do with Adam’s undoubted physical attractions and everything to do with the lady’s character.

“I think she’s very good at being a friend to everyone. And she wants to keep Tirebeck.”

Eua stared at her. “I don’t recognize your scheming lady.”

“It isn’t all scheming,” the shepherd’s wife allowed. “She’s the natural Lady of Tirebeck, and she meant to keep it in the teeth of the MacHeths. She can’t have expected them to hand it over. In fact, she probably understands they haven’t. But Adam mac Malcolm makes it difficult for her.”

“How?” Eua asked, unsure whether to listen or tell the woman to hold her tongue on the subject of her betters.

“By being Adam mac Malcolm.”

Eua let that one lie. Instead, she said, “Even if he brings her back today, Lanson will make her life unbearable. The trouble he caused in Perth over that other matter proves it.” Slowly, she lifted her eyes to the wise older woman, who stopped her scrubbing. “She is a good lady for Tirebeck.”

The other woman nodded. “Pray for her.”

*

Unlike that othermorning after she’d slept outdoors by Adam MacHeth, she woke without the feeling that cold and damp had lodged in her bones forever. The blankets bundled against her back, fitting around her hips and thighs, had kept her warm and snug and secure.

She opened her eyes to find daylight creeping over the hills. The fire had gone out, leaving nothing but the fresh smells of morning dew. The world around her was still; Adam MacHeth couldn’t have wakened yet. Birds were singing their welcome to the day, although the seagulls were silent. She’d imagined they would be close enough to the coast by now to hear them. No matter. She wouldn’t object to a few more hours in the company of Adam MacHeth. Now that they seemed to be friends, she wanted to know him better.

There was danger in that, in the new tenderness surrounding her heart, but she knew she mustn’t let it grow. That way lay misery. Friendship with him, however, would be fun and exciting.

Smiling to herself, she justified it with its usefulness to her goal at Tirebeck. Softly, so as not to wake her companion, she eased away from the warm bundle of blankets and turned over. She gazed into the sleeping face of Adam MacHeth and forgot to breathe.

At some point in the night, consciously or unconsciously, he’d moved. Of course, it hadn’t been bundled blankets against her back, it had been him. Only an idiot, or a woman unused to a sleeping companion, could have thought otherwise.God save us, he’swarm.

Her stomach clenched.

His eyes were closed. If she rose now, he’d never know—or at least never be sure—that she’d been aware of his improper closeness. But she didn’t move. In repose, as in its waking, constant movement, his face fascinated her. He had thick, straight eyebrows, half-hidden from her view by hair, and long, black lashes formed perfect half circles across his lean, stubbled cheeks. Asleep, his mouth betrayed none of the ruthless cruelty she’d attributed to him, and of which she knew him to be capable. She suspected now it was never thoughtless cruelty. Everything he did had a point, an end.

Including his kindness to her. Her stomach twisted. It didn’t matter. She had a husband who was his enemy. And this young man had happily plunged an entire country into war to have his father released, to claim the throne of Scotland for his family.

Her throat constricted. Asleep, he looked so vulnerable, this wildest and scariest of the MacHeth kindred. A boy, almost, despite the whiskers on his chin and jaw. He must have shaved his beard altogether recently…

For an instant, the stillness and the birds’ song closed around them, as if there was no one else in the world. An invisible thread seemed to wind around her, drawing her to the unfathomable young man she’d begun to understand. Unable to stop herself, she freed her hand from the blanket and brushed his cheek with the very tips of her fingers. Cool, rough skin with, surely, burning warmth and passion beneath.

Her blood heated. Imagination. Dangerous fantasy she didn’t even comprehend. But at least he didn’t wake up. She withdrew her fingers, closing them into a fist as she slithered back from him and rose.

The sun was beginning to rise, spreading spectacular pink and gold above the hills. She walked around the fire, past the horse, which stood still, half-asleep. It opened its eyes as she passed, gave a quiet snort by way of recognition, but otherwise didn’t move.

The site they’d camped in was almost like an ancient Roman theatre, surrounded on three sides by hills. Christian walked toward the center of it, stretching her arms out to greet the rising sun of the new day. The blanket flapped around her arms and legs.

It would be a difficult day. She had to face William and the rest of her people with her unlikely tale of abduction by a stranger. The natives would know very soon, if they didn’t already, that she’d spent this night with Adam MacHeth. There was no point in even trying to keep his name out of it. Rescuing and returning her to her husband unharmed and unransomed might even begin to endear him slightly to William…

She smiled, lifting her face to the wind. That trulywasfantasy. But she wouldn’t think of it, not now. She still had a few hours of rare freedom that amounted to gladness. And suddenly everything rushed in on her at once. The joy of returning to her childhood home. Fierce hope of becoming the true Lady of Tirebeck. Intense relief at escaping violent abduction. And most of all, this new warmth that somehow bound her to Adam MacHeth, in whose company she’d spend the next couple of hours at least.

Her pace increased until she was running, spinning, almost dancing under the skies of home. The blanket fell to the ground unheeded. She’d been right to come back. This, at last, surely, was happiness.

Finally dizzy, she collapsed on the damp grass, hugging her stomach until the world stopped spinning around her. When she rose sedately and walked with decorum to pick up the blanket from the grass, Adam MacHeth stood by his horse, watching her.

She flushed with embarrassment. It must have looked as if neither of them was quite sane. However, lifting her chin, she walked toward him, noting that he’d trampled the fire and rolled the bedding back onto its place behind the saddle.

If he found her behavior odd, he gave no sign of it. “Oatcake,” he said, holding something out to her in a napkin. “It’s a sparse way to break your fast, but I’m afraid I ate the rest last night before I found you.”

She took the crumbling pieces with thanks and stood beside him while they ate. The silence between them was unexpectedly pleasant, even companionable. Although she didn’t look at him, it came to her that first impressions to the contrary, he could be a peaceful man.

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