Grace could not help the gasp that escaped her. Little wonder he wasn’t trusting. Her heart went out to the younger version of Duncan, who had had to watch his blood fall. At least, in her revenge, she could remain cold and distant, knowing that the killer was an enemy in battle. He had not had that luxury.
“When he saw that Jaime was gone, he allowed the laird to escape then he came for me. He would have succeeded, had it not been for Bryce, who came at the right time. Just as he was dying, he gloated about Jaime. I can still see his bloodied teeth. To this day, I dinnae understand why.”
“We rushed tae Jaime, but it was too late. His wounds were too severe and I had no idea how to help. If… if I could have…I dinnae ken, slowed the progress until the healer arrived. In any case me brother passed in me arms.”
The last sentence came out broken and hoarse. His face was twisted torturously and those eyes were red-rimmed. Grace reached for him. He stood suddenly, staggering a bit.
He inhaled a shaky breath and said something about scouting the grounds. Grace sat there, dazed and confused. She wanted to run after him, for him to lean on her. But what right did she have? After one night of incomplete intimacy, she could not ask for more than she was being given.
So even if her heart screamed at her to go, Grace curled in on herself, pervaded by a pain she did not experience. Now, she could not blame him for his reaction to her in the beginning. Considering what he’d been through, she had been lucky. If his own cousin could do what he did, imagine a random woman found hiding in his tent in the aftermath of a grueling battle.
Grace wasn’t even Grace to him. His suspicionswereright. It was another reason why she could not console him. She was a hypocrite. She hid the intent to harm one of his people, whilesnuggling up to him. While she could claim to have better reasons than Noah, she was just as bad.
He walked back to the tent a long time later. His face was cloudy, but his hands held that blasted rope in them. He averted his eyes. “I cannae sleep kenning ye could run.”
The brute was back.
“I’m nae runnin’ anywhere,” Grace started, eying the thick ropes. Then she saw his face. Stormy and dark. Like he was trying really hard to hold back. She clamped down on her lips, against her better judgement and even though she did not understand it, Grace held up her hands.
He came closer, held her wrists in one of his ice-cold hands. There was a slight tremble as he wound the rope around her wrist. He tied the knot and Grace looked up with surprise. It was so lose that a child could work his way out of it.
Her hands were tied, but he did not pull them over himself. Instead, he faced away from her. She opened her mouth to protest but a tiny, very minuscule sound from him, rattled her.
The brute was a broken man. He could shed tears.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Duncan shot upright with a start. Sleep had finally come last night, but now it fled from his eyes in an instant. A sound woke him, but he was yet to make sense of it. He jumped from the bed, grabbing his clothes and weapon along the way. His lips were set in a line, his heart strong. His weapon steady within his hands, Duncan looked back at the feminine bundle, who was fast asleep.
Quietly, he went to her, raised the sword and sliced through her binding. He shouldn’t have done what he had done. It had been the first time he had fully spoken about Jaime’s death, the first time he had allowed it to pierce him. And it was the first time he allowed tears to fall. He could not let her see.
Under his feet, the earth trembled again. Alert and with light footwork, he darted from the tent.
Above, the moon was full, stars shimmered around it, affording him just the right amount of light he needed to move. He woke Bryce first, Craig already stood with his amour on and weaponready. Swiftly, they dashed toward the east, where the vibrations emanated from.
“They are comin’ ‘ere.” Craig voiced Duncan’s thoughts.
“I’ll wake the men,” Bryce said, dashing off.
Craig and Duncan picked their way to the front of the camp, hoping to ward off attacks while the warriors readied themselves. He’d placed guards by his tent for Jo, but couldn’t help thinking she might still be unsafe.
“How did they find us?” Craig asked. “We diverted their attention.”
“Maybe they followed a different path. Tis nae unheard of.” A sidelong glance at Craig. “Are ye all right?”
Craig swung his broadsword in a wide arch in response. “Another path that we dinnae dictate? Nae. It could be brigands. From our lands.”
“Could be. But what brigand would dare?”
Words scarcely out of his mouth, three dark horses stampeded out of the woods. Their riders only spared a moment to take in the fact that Duncan and Craig were in their way. With a cry of war, Duncan surged forward.
He made it seem like he wanted to attack with his weapon. In the last moment, he ducked sideways, dodging the man’s attack and yanked on his foot. Once his back hit the ground, Duncan slashed his sword across his chest, wounding him. He hopped on the freed horse, noting that Craig had also done the same.
That allowed only one man to enter the camp, where Bryce awaited with the men. Duncan looked ahead, expecting more men after the third soldier’s capture. All was quiet. Fires had been lit around the camp, the men stood ready.
One heartbeat. Two. Nothing.
Craig sucked in his tongue, making a disappointed sound. “Tis like expecting a banquet and receivin’ naethin’. We should question the captured.”
