“I am the Macleod’s youngest daughter.” She shrugged. “My husband fought for Iain and died a few months ago.” She stared closely now. “Ye must be very beautiful, when yer not frozen and blue. Are ye a lady?”
“No.” She hesitated. She did not think Meg a spy, but she decided not to reveal her identity, although it would probably come out soon enough. As they stared at one another, the tent flap opened, and Robert Bruce strode inside. Iain followed him in.
Alana started, as Bruce pulled up a stool and sat down beside her. She began to flush. “Your Grace.”
He picked up her hand and looked at her fingers, then laid it in her lap. He tilted up her chin, forcing their gazes to meet. His blue eyes were kind. “Send the other woman away,” he said.
Iain asked Meg to leave the tent, and she did.
“Is it true?” Robert Bruce asked.
Alana nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”
He studied her, his gaze lingering on her cracked lips. “You have risked your life to warn us of this attack.”
She nodded again. “I did not expect it to be so cold, or Slioch to be so far.”
“I am very pleased with you, Alana,” Robert Bruce said.
Alana felt her eyes widen impossibly. She looked past Bruce at Iain. She wanted to ask him if he now realized that she loved him—if she had proved herself.
“You will be rewarded for your courage and your loyalty,” Bruce said flatly. He stood. “We will march at dawn. Make certain we leave our best scouts here and that Buchan is remarked before he ever reaches Loch Maree’s shores.”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
Bruce turned back to her. “I am sorry for what you have suffered—and amazed, still. Now I can truly call you my friend, Mistress Alana.”
Alana stared after him as he left, stunned. Then Iain knelt beside her.
“I have a great deal to do between now and the dawn. But ye must rest so ye can travel.”
Alana was alarmed. “Iain, I cannot bear even the thought of the journey home.” She was afraid she might die this time. And she did not know what she would say to Godfrey about her absence.
He smiled slightly at her. “Yer not going home. We will speak about it later. For now ye must rest, and thank God ye have all yer fingers and toes.”
She smiled at him, her heart dancing wildly. “I am forgiven? You trust me?”
“Yer forgiven,” he said. He stood. “Meg will attend ye.”
She felt her smile fade. “I don’t want her here.”
“Worry not, Alana. She means nothing to me.” Then he turned and left.
CHAPTER TEN
THEYHADRIDDENdown Slioch Mountain at sunrise, on a well-used but icy road that went down the ridge’s back side, and continued south through Macleod land. They had not paused, and by the afternoon they were traveling through the great forests of Glen Carron. It was close to sunset now. They had reached the northern shores of Lochalsh, and a camp was rapidly being erected.
Alana slowly dismounted, as exhausted as she was cold. She hadn’t realized an entire army could move so swiftly, and endure such a determined pace for so long.
“My lady?” Meg took her reins, having dismounted, as well. The two women had ridden side by side; Meg had been ordered to attend Alana, never mind that Alana would have preferred the other woman to remain far behind.
Alana was taking off her mittens. She rubbed her frozen fingers together, aware of the small prickling of pain. Her toes tingled hurtfully, too.
“It is not unusual, after such frostbite, to have some discomfort.”
She whirled and saw Iain sliding from his huge black charger, his fur barely drawn over his shoulders. She had seen him several times during their journey. He had made a point of riding over to her to ask after her welfare. “I think I am fine,” she said, although she was not sure. “It doesn’t hurt the way it did yesterday.”
“I am sorry ye had to ride like this, today.”
