"And what about ye?" Mary continued. She looked at him intently. "Haveyeany romances in the camp? Any woman who's caught yer eye?"
There was a small pause when their eyes met, and a strange intensity passed between them. Cailean slowly shook his head. "Naebody," he said, though his heart thudded in his chest as he said it.
Maeve seemed to brighten, but she quickly looked away before he could see more of her expression. "Sensible man," she said. "Let me go get us more ale."
As she hurried off to the bar, Cailean watched her go. And while he'd been reluctant to come here, he knew one thing: if sheasked him to sit here for the rest of the night, he'd say yes. He'd honestly be happy to never leave again.
13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Maeve hummed to herself as she made her way to the bar, her good mood shining around her in a way that she thought must be obvious to anyone who looked toward her. She hadn't expected her time with Cailean to go so well, nor the time she spent with him to feel so natural, nor the conversation to be so easy. She wondered how much time she could spend here with him today.
Why was she so happy? She wasn't quite ready to explore the new part of her that was drawn to him physically, wasn't ready to put words around the way her body reacted when she saw his muscles ripple in the sun or the depths of his gray eyes. So he was handsome — so what? Lots of people were handsome, and Maeve refused to let herself think there was any more to it than that, even though she knew she was lying to herself.
But she couldn't deny that there was a pull between them, one that made her feel good every time they were together, and one that only seemed to be growing stronger as the days passed. Talking to him was so easy, and he was kind in a way she'd never really experienced before. She liked the way he treated not onlyher but everyone else at the camp; she adored hearing the people in the rebellion and some of the village folk talk about the things he'd done for them without asking for anything in return.
Maeve respected Cailean, she concluded. That was all it was, really. It was all it could be, and she was more than all right with that.
"Two more ales, please," she asked the woman behind the bar, but before there could be an answer, the door to the tavern slammed open and someone hurried inside. All eyes turned toward the newcomer.
It was Arthur, looking pale and panicked, his bald head glistening with sweat, his cheeks rosy from exertion. Had he run here all the way from the smithy? It was such a distance, and the thought instantly filled Maeve with fear. What had happened?
"Soldiers!" the blacksmith shouted in his deep voice. "There's soldiers!"
"The English?" someone asked as several people shrieked in fright.
"No, Scotsmen. Traitors," Arthur replied. Dead silence fell across the tavern as everyone listened to him. "A wee group sent from Clan Darach, soldiers sent tae find her."
Maeve froze where she stood, a sudden high-pitched ringing in her ears. Darach soldiers? Here?
"Who'sher?" someone demanded.
"Malcolm Darach's wife. They say she's the one who slaughtered him in his bed," Arthur explained. "They heard word she might be nearby, and they're gonnae search the entire village until they find her."
Panic erupted all around them. People called out in fright, and several men swore. Maeve knew why; if they searched the village, it wasn't only the fear of looting, or worse, scaring the people of Broken Windmill, though of course that was a very real threat. It was the fact that, if Darach's men did a full search ofthe village, they might find the rebel camp. And if they found the rebels and realized what was going on…
"I heard she escaped right from their cells," someone nearby hissed. "I heard she's a witch."
"Who cares about that?" Cailean's voice echoed across the room. "If anyone here is part of me group, we need tae move. We can find some way tae blend our camp in. We dinnaehavethe woman, so they've nae reason to search our camp more closely. They can interview who they like, and once they see we dinnae have her, they'll leave."
Nobody looked convinced, and arguing broke out around her, but Maeve saw the truth in what Cailean was saying. Itmightbe possible to hide the truth of the rebel camp, since the Darachs were corruptible and here only for her. Theymightmove on once it became clear she wasn't there, if they were offered a bribe.
But… shewashere.
And she couldn't risk this.
Maeve could not,would not,risk her new home, her new family, for herself. She had to run, had to get as far from here as she possibly could before she led the rebellion to their deaths. She'd let them see her, just enough to distract them, then lead them away from the village as quickly as she could. It was the only hope that she had. The only hope that they all had.
Feeling her life crumble below her again, Maeve bolted toward the door. She heard Cailean shouting her name, calling her to come back, but she kept running, hoping that the confusion inside the tavern was enough to keep him away long enough for her to flee. She was going to miss her new life, but it was better to give it all up than to be the reason it all ended.
Hurrying toward her horse, panicked and afraid, she could picture what would happen if they captured her again. She was scared, more scared than she ever remembered being in her life,more scared even than she'd been in the dungeons when she'd been sure that her life was about to end. Because now, for the first time, she had something to lose.
As Maeve clambered onto the horse, she hesitated for just a moment. She could flee now and they'd be none the wiser. She could speed off to some remote village in the middle of nowhere and leave this all behind. After all, Cailean might be right. The Darachs might leave the rebels alone when they realized they didn't have her, right?
But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn't true. What they would do to her when she got caught was nothing compared to what they'd do to Cailean and the rest of the rebels if they discovered the depths of the rebel plotting.
"Let's go!" she shouted to the horse, louder than she needed to, her heart in her throat as she knew that she would soon be drawing attention.
