Highland Warrior. Hannah Howell

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СКАЧАТЬ to the difficulty she now found herself in, although she felt a little guilty for even considering it. Menzies would not find her, could not possibly know where she was. For a little while, she decided, she would be selfish and enjoy that fact.

      Declaring the meal ready, Fiona took her share and forced Simon to take his as well. Sir Ewan and Gregor were just walking back into the camp when she told the men they could eat. She quickly moved out of the way, sitting with her back against a tree. She smiled her thanks to Simon when he slipped up next to her and gave her a chunk of bread.

      “Your laird travels weel supplied,” she murmured.

      “Ah, weel, this bread was given us by two sisters who were quite taken with our Gregor,” said Simon. “The lasses do like our Gregor.” Simon shook his head. “He has two bastards, ye ken. Tis a mon’s way, but it troubles me. It marks a lad. Tis a mark ye can ne’er be rid of. It marks the lass who bears the bairns, as weel.”

      Fiona nodded. “It does, true enough. I have a brother who has five bastards, although he may nay be the father of them all. The women said he was when they left the bairns at his door and he accepted them. He is a verra fortunate mon for his new wife has also accepted them.”

      “Och, that is fine. My mother found herself a husband, but he didnae want me about, so Ewan took me in. I was just a wee bairn, only three years, and wasnae any use to the mon. Just another mouth to feed, ye ken. Twas for the best. If he had kept me, I would be struggling to make a crop grow in poor land or trying to keep a few beasties alive to sell for a pittance. Instead, I am being trained as a warrior.”

      It was not easy, but Fiona murmured an agreement. Fiona would never allow him to see the strong surge of pity she felt for him. It was born of the thought of a small fatherless boy tossed aside by his own mother. Simon was right to say he had a better life than he might have had otherwise. She also suspected he had found acceptance, perhaps even a rough affection, amongst his half-brothers and the others. There had to be some scars upon the boy’s soul, but his sweet, shy nature made her believe that they were not deep ones. Simon had survived and was thriving. That was, in the end, the most important thing.

      She was distracted from her thoughts on Simon’s sad beginnings by the other men. One by one, they dropped their emptied plates in front of her. Fiona supposed those grunts they made as they did so were intended as thanks or compliments. It was clear that they expected her to clean up after them. That was irritating, but not unexpected. The look of amusement upon Sir Ewan’s face, however, acted upon her temper as stinging nettles did upon her skin. Only Simon’s quick offer to help saved the man from having his ears vigorously clouted. Grumbling under her breath, she worked with Simon to clean up after the meal she had been ordered to cook.

      “What are ye about?” Ewan asked Gregor when his brother carefully studied his back as they walked away from Fiona and Simon.

      “Looking for the daggers,” Gregor drawled, and grinned.

      Ewan briefly smiled. “Tis indeed fortunate I found all her knives. I suspect I owe Simon a boon for speaking up so quickly and saving me from a sound thrashing.” He chuckled and felt almost as surprised as Gregor looked.

      “Ye find her looking as if she wants to gut ye amusing?”

      “Aye. Tis a clean, clear anger. Much like a mon’s or a lad’s. I can see it and, I suspicion, soon I will be able to tell what will stir it. That could prove helpful.”

      Gregor nodded. “Ye might be able to get her to spill out a few truths if ye get her into a rage.”

      “That I might. Tis a far better plan than the one ye had,” he added in a soft growl.

      “Seduction is a proven way to pull secrets from a woman,” said Gregor. “If ye havenae the urge to try it, I could—”

      “Nay.” Ewan inwardly grimaced over how quickly and vehemently he had spoken. “We dinnae need any more enemies, and I think we will gain some if she is used ere she is ransomed.” Ewan decided that sounded very reasonable and stoutly ignored his brother’s look of amusement.

      “So be it. Shall I secure her for the night? Nay sure how to do so, but ’tis needed, I believe. I suspicion that lass could cause us a great deal of trouble if she put her mind to it.”

      Ewan cursed softly as he turned to look at Fiona. Gregor was right. She needed to be secured in some way. It would not be that difficult to alter the guard schedule he had arranged, ensuring that she was watched closely throughout the night. To his dismay, he could not bring himself to enact that very sensible plan. He did not like the thought of any man remaining so close to Fiona as she slept, or having the opportunity to gain her interest.

      Utter madness, he thought crossly. And a weakness that could easily bring him a great deal of grief. If he were back at Scarglas, there would be places he could go, work he could do, in an attempt to put her out of sight and mind. There was no place to hide here.

      He sighed, accepting his own contrariness. He did not want another man too close to her for too long, so he would have to be the one to guard her during the night. It could answer a few questions, such as just how great a weakness he suffered and how difficult it would be to fight the attraction he felt for her. It could also prove to be a very long, sleepless night.

      “I will guard her,” he said. “The night guard has already been arranged. Tis easier to just leave it as it stands. I just need a wee bit of rope.”

      “Rope?” Gregor asked as he followed Ewan to where their supplies were. “Ye plan to tie her up?”

      “That would be the better plan, but nay. If naught else, I wouldnae wish to try and explain to the men why a mon of my size feels the need to tie up such a wee lass just so that he can sleep. I will just leash her to me so that she cannae slip away in the night.”

      Without another word to Gregor, Ewan walked toward Fiona, who was just finishing the chore of cleaning up after the meal. Her lovely eyes widened at the sight of the rope he held, then narrowed. Before she could retreat, however, he caught both her slender wrists in the grip of one hand. He saw her leg tense as she slowly drew it back.

      “I willnae be pleased if ye kick me, lass,” he drawled as he dragged her toward the spot where Gregor hastened to spread out a blanket for them to sleep upon.

      “Weel, that would certainly keep me weeping for most of the night,” Fiona said, giving up her futile attempts to free her wrists. The man’s grasp was not really painful, but it was unbreakable. “Just what do ye plan to do with that rope?”

      Ewan did not reply. He secured one end of the rope around her wrists and the other end to one of his own wrists. After checking that the bonds were secure, he met her gaze. She looked as if she wanted to wrap the rope around his neck and strangle him—slowly. He wondered why he found that amusing and decided that lust was disordering his wits.

      Fiona silently called him every foul name she could think of as he gently, but firmly, pushed her down onto the blanket. He sprawled at her side, then spread another blanket over the top of them. When he crossed one arm beneath his head and draped the one she was bound to over his stomach, she found herself forced onto her side, facing him.

      “I dinnae suppose ye would accept my vow to nay try to escape?” she asked as she shifted around a little in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position.

      “Nay. I dinnae ken who ye are and ye dinnae plan to tell me, do ye, Fiona-of-the-ten-knives?”

      She СКАЧАТЬ