Page 65 of Rebellion's Fire

He passed the water flask to her, and she drank it almost dry. She walked to the nearby stream which bubbled through the hills, and bent to refill the skin. He watched her as she brought it back to him, his gaze focused but unreadable.

“What?” she asked with a hint of the old defiance, handing him the flask.

“Nothing,” he said. “I like to look at you.”

I like to look at you, too.Her tongue, fortunately, seemed to have stuck to the roof of her mouth. Well, she could look. And then she would go home to face the accusations. It would be worth it.

*

The men ofTirebeck, with sly glee, saw no need to keep the news from the Norman incomers. Henry knew the truth long before midday and had to force himself to go in search of Sir William, whom he found pacing the hall and scowling through the din from outside where the castle was being cleared and rebuilt.

“Well?” Lanson barked at him. “What news?”

There was no easy way to tell him, so Henry merely walked up to him and said, “The locals believe she was abducted by a guest of the MacHeths. Probably the same culprit as fired our castle.”

“A guestof the MacHeths?” Lanson scoffed.

“It looks like he just seized the opportunity,” Henry said. “He may not even have realized who she was. She’d wandered away from the household and he, no doubt watching his handiwork, took his chance and grabbed her.”

“And took her where?” Lanson demanded, his eyes narrowing at the prospect of a good fight.

“Not very far before she was…either rescued or reabducted by Adam MacHeth. No one seems very clear on motive. But she is undoubtedly with him.”

Lanson stared at him before suddenly thumping his fist into the table. “Then his motive scarcely matters, does it?” he said savagely.

*

She wore Adam’scloak as they rode through the morning, pausing every couple of hours to allow the horse some rest. It was almost a familiar pattern after her first forced journey with him. But everything was changed now. She was too aware of him. Perhaps she always had been, but the big, bloodthirsty barbarian who’d captured her and frightened her so badly had turned into a friend who fascinated her.

If they ever had been, even during her first abduction, the pressure of his thighs against hers, the feel of his chest against her back were far from unpleasant now. Sometimes his hair brushed against her cheek as he bent to speak. Sometimes, she was sure his face touched the top of her head.

Once, she asked, “How much longer?” It sounded abrupt since she had to force herself to break off before addingdo I have?

“Another couple of hours, maybe.”

She glanced at the sky. “It must be midday already. It didn’t take half so long coming the other way. We’re not returning by the same route, are we?”

“No.”

“Are you avoiding William’s patrols?”

“They’re bound to be out looking for you.”

The practicalities of her return forced their way to the front of her mind again. “They have no idea you rescued me,” she said anxiously. “They’ll kill you without question if I don’t speak to William first. So you mustn’t come too close. Let me down well before Tirebeck Hill and keep out of their way.”

When he didn’t answer, she twisted her head around to look at him. He was smiling, the rare, full smile that lit his eyes, his whole face.

“Flattered as I am by your care,” he said in clear amusement, “you don’t need to organize me. I’m not really one of your people.”

“It’s become a habit,” she admitted.

“You wear it well. But I can’t be ruled.”

Although he spoke with a mix of deprecation and humor, she thought it was probably true.

As they drew inexorably closer to their goal, she found herself embroiled in unexpected discussions with him. They talked of history and the MacHeths’ claim to Scotland through Aed and Lulach, Macbeth’s stepson.

“Do you really think that matters now?” she asked curiously.

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