Page 8 of Rebellion's Fire

His gaze flickered to her and away. “I have Ross.” He wheeled around again. “And you. On,” he commanded. “We’ll make camp by the burn.”

Fear, which had settled with familiarity, now surged up once more, clawing at her stomach. This was exactly what she’d hoped to avoid. A night spent with MacHeth. At least now that William held Donald, they might hesitate to harm her?

She wished she could be certain of it. William had made sure the world already considered her damaged merchandise, so what difference would rape make?

I could take off my mask….

For some reason, that seemed a last resort. Right now, she had to concentrate on hiding her fear.

Chapter Three

Cailean, despite Donald’scapture, couldn’t squash the elation of his first battle. He knew he’d acquitted himself well and bravely. Not that anyone had told him so, but the approving thumps on his back from the older, more experienced men meant more than any words.

With night watches set, they sat around several campfires, Cailean ate in something of a blissful trance. He had to stop his mouth from smiling, even as his brain mulled over the problem of Donald’s capture.

Of course, it wasn’t really a problem. They’d just have to exchange the lady for him instead of for whatever Adam had originally intended. Cailean glanced at her. She sat alone, some distance from the nearest fire. Though she gave no sign of it, she must have been cold. From her posture, she could have been the hostess of some gathering in her own home. Cailean only knew her ankles were tied because he’d done it himself on Adam’s orders—with apologies. The lady had only lifted her chin and gazed at the sky while he bound her. She’d probably feared worse than this humiliation.

Exactly whathadAdam intended for her? Had he known all along that Donald would be taken and he’d need a hostage of his own to bargain with? Some of the men thought so. Cailean had no idea what went on in the young lord’s strange head, although he had an inkling life was probably more bearable that way.

For the lady, he couldn’t help feeling just a little sorry. He wasn’t blind to her position. Women were nearly always pawns. Few could rise above that, however well-born; the Lady of Ross was the only exception he knew. But this woman, this girl, had struggled to make them believe she was a pawn no one wanted. And Adam was right about one thing: the admission had cost her, but she’d made it anyway in the hope of saving her husband and her people. Cailean admired that. He also tended to believe her. If she’d been lying, it wouldn’t have hurt her.

The masked side of her face was toward him. He could only see her in profile, but that was…pleasing. The unhidden portion of her face was, he remembered, intriguing, even beautiful if one could judge from half a face. Her skin was young and flawless if pale from her experiences. A high forehead, a fine, straight nose, and pointed chin seemed to speak of intelligence and determination. Yet the curve of her cheek, the set of her lips, which she tried to hold firm, gave her a look of vulnerability that cried out to his chivalrous instincts. And she had spirit. She’d tried to escape, and she’d stood up to Adam, even laughed at him.

She was alone, the only woman in a camp of enemy soldiers…

“What are you thinking?”

Cailean almost jumped at the soft yet abrupt voice above him. Embarrassed to have been caught staring at the lady, he jerked his gaze to Adam, who was gazing down at him with the intensity he brought to everything. Adam rarely looked directly at you, but when he did, you had his full attention. It was…disconcerting.

“That she must be cold,” Cailean managed, unwilling to examine the rest of his confused feelings. “And terrified.”

Adam nodded. “She bears it well.”

“That’s no excuse,” Cailean blurted.

“No,” Adam agreed unexpectedly. “What would you do?”

Give her back.

And risk losing Donald? Insanity.

Cailean drew in his breath. “Bring her into the warmth, at least.”

Adam’s gaze drifted away and around to the lady, who still gazed a little too determinedly up at the sky, as if she knew they were watching her, discussing her. “I doubt she wants to be that close to us. Besides, she understands at least some of what the men say.”

Cailean shifted uncomfortably. He wouldn’t willingly expose her to the rough talk of soldiers. He felt annoyed at his own suggestion and astonished all over again at the little things Adam noticed and acted on.

“If you’d make her easier,” Adam suggested, “you could build her a fire of her own. I have a spare blanket in my bedroll.”

Cailean’s mouth fell open before he could stop it, but Adam had already moved away toward Findlaech, who was hailing him. As Cailean began to rise, almost numbly, Adam paused and turned back.

“You fought well in their camp. I saw.” A quick, flickering smile and then his retreating back. And Cailean, his heart bursting, would have died for him there and then.

*

The boy who’dshown her small kindnesses before—Cailean—brought her a blanket and dumped a pile of firewood a couple of feet from where she sat. Her spirits soared pathetically at the thought of some warmth before she began to wonder what reason there could be.

This was the one who’d bound her ankles. She knew that to have been on Adam’s orders, and to give him his due, Cailean had been both embarrassed and as gentle as such abuse of her person allowed. She’d ignored him, fearing worse violence to come. Was the violence then to be done in the comfort of warmth? Or was this merely the kindness it appeared?

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