“Ach! With a skull as thick as yers, it would be the kettle that came off worse!”
The notion was so preposterous, he found himself smiling. She smiled too. As they gazed at each other, he thought how beautiful she was when she smiled. Her whole face lit up.
He felt something melt inside his chest, a piece of ice falling away from something frozen. It was a sensation that was new to him, and it scared him that this woman, a stranger who had tried to end his life, could do that to him.
He looked at the wounds on her wrists again, wondering whether to trust her. “Dae ye swear on yer life nae tae leave me sight?”
“I already promised that, and I’ve stuck tae it too,” she pointed out. “But if it pleases ye, aye, I swear it on me life.”
“Ye also need tae consider what will happen if ye try tae attack me again. Yen ken me men will be quick to kill ye if ye try anythin’. And dinnae forget that any soldier who finds a woman wandering around a military camp like this will assume ye’re fer hire.” He gave her his sternest warning look.
“I’ve nae forgotten. I’m sorry I tried tae kill ye before. It was naethin’ personal, just fer the money. I give ye me word nae tae try tae hurt ye again.”
“Yer word means little when I still dinnae ken who ye really are,” he pointed out, his resolve weakening, nevertheless.
“Ye dae ken who I am,” she replied, all innocence. “I’m Annie Dean. Or Harris, a soldier in yer army. I can help ye in yer fight.”
He smiled again, not taking her claim seriously, but he came to a decision. “All right, I’m prepared tae trust ye enough tae leave off with the ropes. But the second ye step out of line…”
“I’ll nae step out of line, ye’ll see,” she cried, her face lighting up. “I’ll prove tae ye that I’m trustworthy. Just give me a chance.”
“I just said I would, did I nae?” he told her, hoping he was making the right choice and it would not cost him his life. “Now, sit there. I’m gonnae get some stuff tae clean yer wounds. I have some salve that’ll make sure they dinnae get infected. It’ll help with the bruising and the scarring too.” He rose and went to get water, cloths, and the salve and brought them back to the table.
“Och, thank ye, ye dinnae ken how grateful I am!” she said, her face wreathed in smiles as he proceeded to gently bathe her wrists and ankles, strangely moved by the softness of her skin and the delicacy of her bones. For all she dressed like a youth and hid her femininity, underneath, he could tell she was all woman.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The siege wore on, the days passing by slowly, until Isla realized that she and Ballentine’s army had been camped outside her front door for a week. For much of that week, she had been free of the ropes which had confined her and caused her such discomfort. Her wounds were already starting to heal, and she had even gotten used to sharing the cot with Ewan.
In fact, she had gotten used to being in his company all the time, watching his face from across the table while they ate together, touring the camp with him, scouting on horseback, always at his side as she listened to him speak to his men. Even against her will, he continued to impress her with his natural warmth, his capabilities, and his firm but fair approach to leadership. Not to mention the small matter of his incredible good looks, which despite herself, grew on her daily.
However, throughout everything, she felt she was living a double life. It was a terrible strain on her nerves, for she could never relax, never be herself. On the one hand, she was embeddedin camp life, and apart from Colin, the men seemed to have accepted the story explaining her presence.
On the other, her mission to destroy Ewan before he could destroy Gregory and everything she held dear was always near the forefront of her mind. How could it not be with her own brother and their entire clan under siege in her home only a few hundred yards away?
In quiet moments, she worried about Gregory and the toll the siege must be having on him, and Kelvin and Domhnall and Connor too, lifelong friends and protectors to a man. She also wondered what he made of her disappearance and how that might be affecting him. She prayed for two things: for Gregory to change his mind and sue for peace with Ewan, or for Laird Allen and his troops to arrive and save the day.
But she had no intention of simply sitting back and waiting for either of those things to occur. She had her self-imposed mission, and so she spent a lot of time trying to figure out a way to assassinate Ewan, successfully this time. But since he had taken all lethal weapons out of her reach and was much stronger than her, she could see no way of besting him, certainly not if it came to a fight—she had no wish to die at his hands. If that happened, she would no longer be able to protect Gregory. No, she had to find another way.
There was another problem too, one she could never have foreseen, which had come upon her slowly and took a lot of swallowing. It put her under pressure to act quickly because it threatened to undermine her resolve to carry out her mission.She had already admitted to herself from day one that Ewan was powerfully attractive, purely on the basis of his rugged, masculine good looks. It affected her, especially while lying next to him in the narrow cot at night or watching him wash in the mornings. Watching him do anything really.
However, by constantly reasoning that his braw looks were skin deep, that character was what counted, and however attractive he was, he was still the enemy and deserved to die, she had been able to manage that aspect so far. Or so she told herself.
And even though she thought his offer of peace far more reasonable than Gregory’s refusal of it, and she respected his wisdom and abilities as leader. And although she was grateful he had protected her and spared her life, Gregory’s safety came first, even if Ballentine had to die to ensure it. Or so she told herself.
But there lay the crux of this new problem—she was starting to like Ewan. If she were being totally honest with herself, she already liked him. A lot. Certainly more than she should, and she felt very guilty about it. She tried not to like him, she tried her hardest to continue hating him. But in her secret heart, living night and day in such intimate circumstance with the man was getting to her. She was starting to fear that if the siege went on much longer, she would be unable to bring herself to kill him, and all would be lost.
Then, a few days later, something happened that seriously brought the threat home to her in way that could not be ignored. They had just entered the second week of the siege, and as shetoured the camp at Ewan’s side one morning, she noticed the men seemed to be in unusually high spirits. It soon became clear why.
It tuned out that over the days of the siege, carts loaded with various supplies bound for delivery to the castle had been periodically turning up, only to be intercepted by Ewan’s men, who had been confiscating and stockpiling the contents. Among these deliveries were quantities of wine, ale, whisky, preserved meats, imported fruits, and many other expensive delicacies.
“I think we should put all this to good use and have a wee feast tonight,” Ewan told Isla as they inspected the booty. It was being stored in a large wagon, which had also been confiscated. “The lads need some distraction, and they deserve some fun,” he added with a grin, looking happier than she had seen him.
“I wouldnae be averse tae havin’ some fun mesel’,” Isla confessed truthfully. “I never realized how boring sieges were fer those on the outside.” In admitting this, she felt a terrible pang of guilt for looking forward to enjoying what had been taken from her brother and her clan.
“Me neither,” Ewan agreed as they covered the piles of goods back up and walked away from the wagon. “’Tis a first fer me too. Aye, a wee celebration would be just the thing tae break the monotony and cheer everybody up.”
Isla’s hopes rose that she might find a chance to sneak back to the castle under cover of the party. She decided she had to play it by ear. As they continued on their way, Ballentine gave ordersfor the celebration to go ahead, although supplies of alcohol were to be severely limited.
