This was the man who had ridden ahead of her, the man with the damp gold hair plastered to his skull with sweat. He must have washed before she got to camp, however, because now his hair was a riot of curls, a dark version of Jamie. Much darker. With only a torch to light the clearing in which they stood, his eyes seemed darker than the night around them. Brown then. His brow, when lowered, made him look as fierce as Tearloch. So many forceful handsome men made her wonder if Scotland were full of them, unlike the timid men of Clan Carlisle who chose to build another stronghold for the clan rather than take Fort Carlisle from Agatha after Angus died. Had they not done so, the woman would not have been able to keep Kenna from the rest of the world as she had.
“Eat,” Monroe commanded, his voice firm, inviting no argument.
“Thank you,” she said, and took the bundle from him. Glancing past his hands, she noticed a shining nub at the top of the man’s garter-wrapped stocking. A skean dhu! Come to think of it, she realized, they all must carry a similar weapon, and wasn’t a knife on her list of necessities for the night?
Kenna sat down on a felled log, a little closer to her target. Problem one was solved; she had found her knife. Getting to it would be problem two. It was next to his body.
How do I distract him so he doesn’t feel it? What could I possibly do to hold his attention?
Now that she had the makings of a plan, her victim was moving away. Monroe was openly wary of her. He continued to put distance between them while she ate. Did her intentionsshow on her face? If so, she would have to hide her emotions better.
When she finished eating, she held up the cloth.
“May I use this to wash?” she asked innocently, pointing to a tiny stream trickling down the slope opposite the tent.
Monroe shook his head then yelled, “Frazier, some water!”
A man hustled around the corner of the tent with a skin in his hands. Yes, Frazier would do nicely, she thought, noticing the man’s blush as he handed her the water.
Monroe scurried away like he could not escape fast enough. After giving a nod to the fresh guard, he disappeared as quickly as the other man had come.
“Thank you ever so much,” Kenna purred. “I just wanted to wash some dust away.” She swung her hair back behind her shoulders and raised the water skin to her mouth, drinking so fast the water ran in cool rivulets from the corners of her lips, to her chin, then further down her neck to pool in the dip at the base of her throat.
Frazier was appropriately mesmerized, but she no longer acknowledged his presence. Seemingly swept away in her own needs, she poured water on the cloth and squeezed it above her breasts, wetting her tunic just enough. She closed her eyes and shivered at the chill that goosebumped up into her hair.
“Oh, dear!” she said, and jumped to her feet. The blue of her shift showed through the wet white garment. In the flickering light the guard was appropriately confused.
Fia said men were easily manipulated when they believed they were looking at something forbidden. Now Kenna wished she had listened closer to what the young maid had to say.
When this Frazier groaned and turned his back on her, she grinned with success. And while he was busy distracting himself, she found the thorny twig she’d been eyeing and promptly stomped on it.
Her gasp and whimpering were not exaggerated. Her fall back onto the log might have been slightly dramatic, but he didn’t notice. She was careful not to scream for that would have brought too many witnesses.
“Oh, help me Frazier! Help me! Take it off!” She held up her foot to show the stem embedded in it.
He hesitated for only a heartbeat before falling to his knees in front of her.
“Thorns,” she whispered. “Take them out! Hurry!”
He lifted her ankle and winced when he saw how many points were stuck in her flesh. Frankly, she’d been just as surprised.
Soothingly, as if to a child, he said, “There, there, easy as a whistle now. These wee beasties won’t hurt ye none. Two more now. Almost done. There we are. Now, where is that water. We’ll wash yer foot and ye’ll be right as rain on the heather.”
When the deed was done, Kenna reached out with her right hand and cupped one side of the poor man’s face, then smiled sweetly into his eyes. “My thanks, sir. You are a dear man,” she whispered, while her left hand inched toward the man’s boot. When he blushed, her fingertips clutched the metal handle and she slid it free.
A heartbeat later, it was nestled up inside her sleeve, the blade not even cooled from his body to hers.
She wiggled her foot and broke the spell. Frazier stood, nervous again, his attention darting to the campfires, as if praying for someone to relieve him.
Two wolves howled back and forth, closer than the first, and Kenna stood as well. “I’m going to the fire,” she announced, and headed that way, careful not to dislodge the dagger from her sleeve.
“Yer laird and master wants ye here.” Her victim was suddenly a soldier again.
“He can’t have everything he wants.” She hobbled away, knowing Frazier wouldn’t use force to stop her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
When Kenna reached the clearing, she tried her best not to favor her injured foot and headed for the fire on the right. Tearloch reclined near the other. His scowl was directed behind her, likely at Frazier, who begrudgingly took a seat on the opposite side of the fire from her. He held up both his hands and shook his head, silently claiming innocence for anyone looking his way.
