“So, are ye done?” he repeated, still looming over her.
“Aye, but I need tae wash and get dressed as well.”
His handsome features creased with impatience. “Get a move on then. I need tae tie yer hands again. I’m nae takin’ any chances. And make sure tae do as I said and stay within me sight all the time. Understood?”
Something important occurred to Isla then, something that would make all the difference in terms of her freedom to move about. “Aye, I havenae forgotten,” she said, suddenly reasonable. “But if ye want me tae blend in with the men, will they not think it strange if I go about with me hands tied all the time? Besides, ye say we’re leavin’ today. How am I supposed tae ride like this?”
He stared at her hard, then nodded with obvious reluctance. “All right, but ye’d better do everything I say without question.Remember, ye’re life’s in me hands.” He threw the rope down onto the table.
“I will,” Isla said, suppressing her smile of triumph.
“D’ye have a horse?” he suddenly asked.
“Er, aye. I left her just outside the camp, tethered tae a tree.”
“That’ll be our first job then, tae go and fetch her. Then ye can start with helpin’ tae pack up the camp. I wantae be on our way within the next couple of hours. I’ll give ye ten minutes tae dae whatever it is ye havetae dae.”
“Ten minutes?” she exclaimed. “That’s nae enough time fer me tae get ready!”
“Ten minutes is what ye’ve got,” he repeated sternly.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Damn ye!” Isla muttered under her breath as she rushed to do the impossible. In her hurry to reach the makeshift washstand, she managed to trip over her own feet and almost went flying headlong into it. Somehow, she righted herself, only to find there was hardly any water left in the jug for her to wash in.
With only the bare means of washing available and hardly any time to do it in, she grumbled to herself quietly about his unreasonableness as she grabbed the sliver of soap—it slipped from her hand, and she had to chase it before she could get hold of it—hurriedly scrubbing her face, ears, neck, and hands as best she could. There was no time to clean her teeth, she decided.
Still rubbing herself with a drying cloth, she ran over to the cot to get her footwear and jacket on. By the time she made a plate and pushed her hair beneath her cap and tugged on her uniform jacket, she felt like the living embodiment of her grandmother’s oft quoted adage, “More haste, less speed.”
While she was rushing to do all this in the time stipulated, Ewan strode over to the threshold of the tent and stood, back turned and arms folded, looking out over the bustle of preparations Isla could hear going on outside as the camp disbanded.
That was when Ewan was joined by another soldier by the entrance to the tent. She saw he was dressed as a captain and was shorter than Ewan but just as powerful looking. He had sandy hair pulled atop his head in a bun, tattoos that wound up his neck, and a fierce, weatherbeaten face.
He looked at Isla with curious intensity as he and Ewan greeted each other with the familiarity of close friends. She made out his name was Colin. Not wanting him to have too close a look at her in case he saw through her masculine disguise, she turned away and fiddled with her cap. She strained her ears to hear what they were saying. Frustratingly, they kept their voices too low for her to make anything out.
A couple of hours later, the camp was fully packed up, and Ewan rode out at the head of his force. To his right rode Colin. To his left rode Isla, in her new persona as the young soldier Harris.
“I dinnae recognize ye, Harris,” the captain yelled over to her. “Where have ye come from?”
Isla glanced at Ewan with alarm, struggling to come up with an answer.
“Ach, the young whipper-snapper turned up in me tent last night,” the laird answered for her. “He’s one of the farm ladswhose family was displaced from their home when Allan stole me lands,” he lied smoothly, leaving Isla relieved as well as impressed by his powers of invention. Obviously, he had it all figured out.
“He’s a bit young, is he nae?” Colin said dubiously, staring over at Isla with suspicious eyes, sending her anxiety soaring.
“Aye, he’s too young tae join up really, but the wee blighter wants his revenge on Allan and fairly begged me tae let him stay and fight,” Ewan explained. “He’s enthusiastic, and I couldnae see the point of sending him all the way back home. I told him can stay and make himself useful tae me. He made a bloody good job of polishin’ me boots this mornin’.”
“Did he now?” Colin replied, still looking doubtful. “Can he fight?”
“Och, aye. I’ll nae be puttin’ him in the front line, but we had a wee tussle in the tent last night, and the lad proved himsel’ handy enough with a dirk,” Ewan replied casually, glancing sideways at Isla.
His look seemed to say, “See how I’m lyin’ tae me friend tae keep ye safe?” Though it stuck in her craw to have to be grateful to her enemy, she found she was all the same.
“So, ye want revenge on that cheatin’ dog Allan, d’ye, Harris?” the captain asked.
Isla cleared her throat and adjusted her voice to sound more masculine as she replied, “Aye, Captain, Sir.” Though she had kept the words to a minimum, they had nevertheless come out sounding squeakily discordant, like those of an adolescent poised midway between boyhood and manhood.
“Christ, Ewan, are ye sure about this?” Colin asked, his forehead creasing with concern. “Nay offence, Harris, but ye sound like yer balls havenae even dropped yet.”
