CHAPTER EIGHT
Blake had faced bandits, enemy warriors, and exile. He’d faced life and death situations in battle, and still, nothing scared him as much as watching Reyna face Oran Murray.
He saw the instant her temper got the better of her and would have intervened if Preston hadn’t held him back. But even Preston was shocked when Reyna dared argue with Oran, and both nearly fell over in shock when she had the audacity to question his manhood.
Then Oran struck her, and Blake’s shock turned to blinding, red-tinged fury, hot as fire. He’d have drawn his blade and leaped to her side, but Preston was watching him, and was quicker than he was. The older warrior’s hand grabbed his blade hand in a grip like an iron shackle and pulled him back before he could even complete a step forward.
Then Oran left, and he was free to hurry forward and kneel at Reyna’s side. Preston followed to crouch beside him, watchingover them and poised to give warning if an unfriendly member of the clan approached, like Luke. Blake wrapped an arm around Reyna’s shoulder and bent to look at the damage Oran’s blow had caused. Her cheek was already turning purple, and her lip was dripping a steady line of crimson.
Preston pulled free a square of cloth he kept as a kerchief and passed it over, a look of sympathy in his eyes. “Och, poor lass. That looks fair painful.” He shook his head. “I’ll have Kenzie bring a poultice fer ye later, but ye’ll want tae walk softly around Murray Keep fer a bit. The laird’s nae likely tae forget such an insult any time soon.”
Blake swallowed, hearing what Preston left unsaid. Laird Murray would not forgive the insult, and he would be out to prove himself with a vengeance on the wedding night. Rumor had it that any lass he took to his bed came off the worse for it, but by her words, Reyna had made sure the rumor would certainly be true in her case.
He lifted Reyna into his arms and began to carry her away. She looked a bit like an injured waif, huddled in his arms with one hand still working to staunch the bleeding of her lip. The sight made him want to wrap her in his cloak and carry her far away, to any place where she might be safe. He forced the thought away, knowing he couldn’t allow anyone who was truly loyal to Laird Oran to see the feelings that came with it on his face. To anyone else, it had to – itwould– look like he was acting to fulfill his laird’s orders and nothing more.
Even so, he already knew he couldn’t risk Reyna suffering further abuse. For the sake of their childhood, and the feelings that still might linger between them – to say nothing of his own barely considered desires and daydreams – he had to protect her. He also knew he couldn’t do it alone. He was only one man.
Once they were safely away from the hall, he spoke, his voice low and cracking with desperation. “Preston... help us.”
“Help…” Preston shook his head. “Never mind. Dinnae say aught until we’re in rooms behind closed doors.”
Together, they sought out the nicest of the north tower rooms, and Preston left to get Kenzie and some water to bathe Reyna’s wounds. Blake stayed with her, stroking her hair. Eventually, Reyna sniffed. “I suppose I’ve made him a bit cross with me.”
In spite of himself, Blake smiled. “Ye always were an exasperating lass, and the sort tae tease a fox’s tail.”
“As if ye wouldnae be right there with me.” Her face looked painful, but she managed a small half-smile nonetheless.
“Mayhap, but I’d get out o’ the way o the teeth!”
“Would ye? And who is it, again, who was fool enough tae steal a horse at eight summers old? That’s far more than tweaking the fox’s tail.”
“Whatever it is yer speaking o’ lass, what ye did in speaking tae Laird Murray like that is more akin tae poking a night demon with a stick.” Preston entered, holding a jug and a basin. He studied them a moment. “Kenzie’s busy working, and ye’ve that troublesome look on yer face, Blake, so I brought the water up meself.” He paused with a quizzical stare. “I didnae ken ye could smile, Blake.”
Reyna shifted in his arms. “I thought…”
“Preston kens who I am. He has done fer some time.” He looked up at his friend. “I need yer help. We both do.”
Preston set the basin and jug down on the nearby bedside table. “If it’s me help ye’re seeking, then me first bit o’ advice would be fer ye and I tae talk elsewhere. We’re in fer trouble if one o’ the servants or other guards finds us loitering in the lady’s rooms.”
“’Tis nae any o’ their business, but we can find some excuse. Mayhap, we can be determining what is needed, since these arenae the rooms planned fer her.” Blake pointed. “Fer example, a fire needs tae be lit in the hearth.”
Preston bent to the task, but his shoulders will tense. “’Tis still a risk.”
“Aye, but ‘tis one I can accept, and ye can say I ordered ye tae help me guard her.”
Reyna looked up at him. “If it’s going tae get ye intae trouble, Blake, ye can go.”
Blake snorted. “Ye’ve already shown ye’re as reckless as ever. I’m fair certain ye’ll be making plans fer yerself as soon as I leave, and the last thing we need is fer yer ideas tae interfere with whatever Preston and I think o’. Tae say naething o’ ye doing something foolish in yer impatience tae get us in greater trouble.”
From the way Reyna blushed, he suspected she’d already started trying to plan her escape. He huffed. “That’s what I thought. Nae, I’ll take the risk fer now, rather than risk being at cross-purposes later.” He looked to his friend. “Will ye help me?”
“Aye, as much as I can without creating tae much trouble fer me kinfolk or Kenzie’s.” Preston paused. “Though I confess I’m fair confused meself about how heedless ye’re being. Ye’re normally more cautious than most, nae less.” Preston glanced at Reyna. “I cannae say I dinnae understand at all, but I wouldnae think ye’re the type tae become so enamored o’ a lass in two days.”
“I’m nae, but I... the relationship I had – have, mayhap – with Reyna…” He paused. “...tis much like what ye have with Kenzie. I’ve kent her near as long as ye’ve kent yer lady-love.”
“Have ye?” Preston glanced between them. “Ye’ve never mentioned her.”
“How could I, when I kent full well it was likely I’d never see her again, unless it was on the edge o’ a battlefield, and fromopposite sides?” Blake tugged Reyna closer. “We met when I was eight summers old, and she a year younger. We grew close, close enough that it was me relationship with her that me faither and I were fighting over when he died.”
