Hacon succumbed to the need to kiss her. But as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, her eyes grew wider and she drew her head back. He sighed and redirected his kiss to her forehead. It was a poor substitute for what he craved, but he was certain it was the wisest move to make. Her kiss would be all the sweeter if there was some willingness on her part. As he stepped away from her, he mused that he would probably have to take her by surprise and steal that first kiss. This time she had had a chance to rally her defenses.
“I must return to the meeting the Douglas is holding,” he said. “William’s injury diverted me.”
“Just how did William hurt himself ?” She was a little dismayed to hear the hint of breathlessness in her voice and prayed he did not notice it.
“He was holding the reins of a pair of horses when something caused them to bolt. The poor mon was dragged a ways before he could free himself.”
“Then he must be sadly bruised and battered. He should be here, resting.”
“Aye, he should rest, and I believe he will do so—at the inn, where a buxom wench he has his eye on can soothe his brow.” He winked and smiled. “I will try and find us something to sup on besides porridge. We will eat little else once we set out into England in a week’s time,” he said as he strode out of the house before he forgot all of his good intentions of moving slowly with Jennet.
The moment he was gone, Jennet slumped against the table. He had been meaning to kiss her and she had been alarmingly slow to resist. Things were not going at all well. Resistance to Hacon was growing more and more elusive. They were not going to leave Berwick and go north, deeper into Scotland and nearer her home, but south on one of those infamous, swift raids. She would have no chance of eluding Hacon for weeks, even months. If she had difficulty keeping him at arm’s length after only a week, she knew she could never hold him back for the length of a raid. Wondering what she had ever done to deserve such torment, she returned to scrubbing the floor, hoping that the strength to remain cold to the man would be aided by her complete exhaustion.
Chapter 4
With a soft cry, Jennet sat bolt upright on her pallet. She wondered dazedly why she had not been hindered by the man who had slept curled around her every night for over a week. An instant later she knew why, knew what had so abruptly awakened her. Hacon and his men were silently, hastily arming themselves. An alarm must have been sounded. She was about to find herself in the midst of another battle.
A tingle of fear seeped through her veins as she moved to help the men. As she laced up jupons, assisted in tugging on mail, and helped a man buckle on his sword, she wondered if it was wrong of her to be so helpful. Shaking her head, she decided she had no choice. In the midst of a counterattack by the English and their allies, she would be seen as one of the enemy. Right now she needed the protection these men offered. And, she mused with an inner sigh, after spending so many days with them, she truly did not wish them harm. If nothing else, she had come to realize that these men could bring her back home, back to Liddesdale.
“Nay, Ranald.” Hacon stopped his nephew from running into the streets with the others. “Ye are to stay here.”
“Here? But I can fight too, Uncle.”
“Aye, and where I wish ye to use that fine sword is right here, protecting all we have gathered, protecting that wee bairn and”—he grasped Jennet by the arm and tugged her close—“this wee bonnie plunder.”
“Ye wish me out of the battle. After what happened before, ye fear I shall fail you,” Ranald accused.
“Dinnae be a fool. What ye did before wasnae failure. ’Tis that which makes me choose you to stand guard here. I ken ye will stand firm no matter what happens. I ken ye will remember why ye have been set here and let naught distract you. Now, dinnae let this fool lass try to flee—”
“Fool lass?” Jennet muttered.
“—because,” Hacon continued without pause, “there will be no safety out there for her. She will find no friend now.”
“I do possess the wit to ken that much,” Jennet snapped.
“Good. Then ye will be here waiting for me when I return.”
“Ye are so sure of winning, are ye?”
“But one kiss from your sweet mouth, my lovely plunder, and I can be naught else but victorious.”
She opened her mouth to tell him just how little his chances were of getting a kiss, only to discover she had given him the opportunity he waited for. His arm came about her waist and he hefted her up against his chest, then thoroughly kissed her. His hunger, which he made no secret of, was fully evident in the embrace. She felt her own desire for him, a desire she had been unable to vanquish, flare to life. Still reeling from that deep kiss when he set her on her feet, she silently watched him leave, Dugald at his heels. When she finally turned to look at Ranald, the youth was grinning at her. She glared at him.
“When I first saw your uncle,” she drawled, “he was grinning just like that. I tried to cut his throat.”
“Oh.” Ranald’s grin vanished. “Um, the bairn awakes.”
“The bairn now has a name,” she murmured as she moved to pick up the child. “I have called him Murdoc.”
“Why Murdoc?” Ranald sat at the end of the table facing the doorway, dividing his attention between it and her.
“Weel, when he was playing so happily the other day, I sat by him and started saying names. I felt he ought to have one, since he as been with us for eight days. Murdoc was the one he smiled at. He crawled toward me when I said it.” She started to change Murdoc’s linen.
For a while, as she dressed and fed the baby, neither she nor Ranald spoke. The din of battle coming from outside was broken only by Murdoc’s happy gurgling. It was a distressing combination of sounds.
Sitting on the sheepskin, watching Murdoc play, Jennet tried not to wonder on the identity of each person she heard scream. When she realized most of her fear was over Hacon’s fate in battle, she decided she needed some diversion. Although Ranald was unquestionably alert, there was an expression of despondency on his face.
“Is something wrong, Ranald?” She felt a quick thrill of panic, wondering if he knew something about the battle she had missed while tending to Murdoc.
