Duncan took a nervous step toward them.
“It’ll be fine,” Tearloch assured him, knowing that the older man felt his life was in danger. “Come,” he said again, tugging at her hand.
When she shook her head, Tearloch merely let go and nodded at Big Rabbie who was standing off in the shadows. When the giant nodded in answer, Tearloch turned toward the tent.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he heard her say to the big man.
“After today, milady” came Duncan’s voice, “he may want to hurt ye.”
Tearloch feigned a deaf ear to Duncan, but heard every step of the lass’s bare feet as she scurried in his direction. He should tell her not to worry about his old friend’s bark—that he was a wolf with no teeth, except in battle, of course. But mayhap she would behave better if she didn’t know.
“Where do ye want me, my laird?” she asked in a weak voice when she arrived behind the tent.
He secured rope to the tree at one end. “Just Tearloch.”
“Tearloch,” she amended, her voice shaking.
“On your bed then. But take off the tunic first.”
When she complied without argument, he wondered if she were indeed afraid of Big Rabbie. He hadn’t said to take off her clothes, just her tunic, but he could sense her trepidation. There was a shaking to her breath, as if her teeth would chatter if she allowed them near each other.
“Where will you sleep?”
“With you.” Let her worry now. He had worried more than his share all day.
He finished his knots and then pulled back the plaid, revealing his own makeshift pallet Jamie had laid beside hers.
“Good,” she said with a nod. “Hopefully, the wolves will have their fill with you.”
He threw his head back and laughed. She was afraid of no man, only the silly wolves. Her bravery pleased him to no end.
She scrambled past him, under the wool, and onto her bed. When she was settled in, he took her left arm firmly in his grip and had her wrist tied to the tree above her head in a heartbeat. He moved to the other end of the tent, to her feet. While he grabbed her right foot and secured it, she was fumbling about, likely trying to loosen her hand. When he took up the slack, she was stretched to her limit, but not uncomfortably so, and as planned, she could no longer reach the knot securing her stretched arm.
“And if the wolves think ye have trussed up their meal for them?” she snapped.
“Perhaps I was preparing a meal of sorts for myself,” he suggested, then chuckled low.
While she tried to grasp his meaning, he laid out next to her. In the shadows, he could tell when her fear of the wolves was once more forgotten.
“If so, I hope you choke.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He took pity on her. “Relax, my brave lass. The only one to choke will be ye if ye keep me from my sleep this night. Yer rescuers have not slept for days.” And with that he spread her tunic over her, turned his back and began to snore.
The camp wokeup to a scream, but it was not from a woman.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
From the trees, Kenna watched as Duncan came around the end of the tent. He was the first to find Tearloch with his left arm up and right foot stretched taut just as she had been expected to sleep the night before.
“Cut me loose,” Tearloch growled through gritted teeth.
Duncan laughed and reached for the dagger in his boot. but before he could free it, a blade pressed against the middle of his back. He froze and raised his hands. Others were coming to investigate and stopped short when they saw what was happening. They didn’t seem terribly alarmed but held back just the same.
“Tell them all to go away.” She pressed on the small knife to let Duncan know she was speaking to him. She ignored Tearloch just as he often ignored her.
Duncan waved a hand. “Go about yer business, lads. Give us some privacy.”
When the others retreated, she walked around the older man to plop down inside the tent once more. Tearloch’s screaming had awoken her as well, and her first impulse had been to run. But she was tired of running. After last night, she was fearful of Duncan’s anger, but she had to take one last stand.
