The spear ripped through the air with a whiz, piercing the mail of the knight’s coif as if it were butter.
Ewen hit the ground the same moment the soldier did. Janet turned, saw him, and with a soft cry that tore through his heart, raced into his arms.
He held her close as she buried her head against his chest, savoring every bloody sensation that came over him.She’s safe, he told himself over and over.Safe. But his damned heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
The emotions clamoring inside him were like nothing he’d ever experienced, and it took him a while to get them under enough control for him to speak. “Are you all right?”
She nodded against his chest, but he needed to see for himself. Carefully he tipped her chin back and looked into wide, tear-filled eyes. The baby-soft skin under his fingertips was so pale it seemed almost translucent. “I was so scared. The dog…” She looked up at him, stricken. “It was horrible.”
A wave of tenderness rose inside him with chest-crushing intensity. “It’s over, sweetheart. It’s over.”
She nodded obediently—he doubted she’d done that since she was a child, and probably not even then—but the horror of the attack was obviously still weighing on her. She trembled against him, her slender shoulders shaking, and a fierce wave of protectiveness surged over him. It took everything he had not to put his mouth on hers and kiss her until they both forgot.
But he didn’t. The danger was over, and with its absence came the reminder of his duty.
Slowly, reluctantly, he let her go.
She blinked up at him, at first surprised, and then with a wounded look that tore at him mercilessly.
He cursed the unfairness of it. The duties, the loyalties, the responsibilities that made it—them—impossible.
Suddenly, she gasped, her gaze flying to his arm. “You’re hurt!”
He glanced down, realizing the Englishman’s sword had sliced through hiscotunand blood was seeping out. Truth be told, he didn’t feel it. Although he couldn’t say the same about his leg, which throbbed and burned like someone had thrown whisky on it and then lit it on fire. “I’m fine. It’s only a scratch.”
She screwed up her mouth in the familiar purse. Who knew annoyed could look so sweet?
“Your arm could be hanging by a string and you would say you were fine.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. She was probably right.
“You warriors are all alike—” She stopped and looked around anxiously. “Where is Sir Kenneth?”
“Don’t worry. He was finishing up when I came after you. He should be along any minute.”
“I can’t believe—I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Two men against so many.” Her voice held the unmistakable reverence of awe. But he couldn’t enjoy it. She was treading too close. Somehow he knew what she was going to say even before her eyes locked on his. “You are part of it, aren’t you? You are one of Bruce’s phantoms?”
God’s blood, the lass courted trouble like a lovesick troubadour! She’d seen too much, and now she was making guesses—dangerous guesses that could put them all at risk. Wasn’t what she was doing dangerous enough? Knowledge—even suspicions—like that would have half the English army after her. Identifying and capturing the members of Bruce’s secret army was top on the list of the English command.
His expression gave no hint of the storm of emotions her question had unleashed inside him. He feigned unconcerned amusement. “Didn’t your parents tell you there is no such thing as ghosts?”
She lifted her chin. “Do you deny being part of the secret army that has wreaked havoc with the English troops—”
He cut her off with an oath, taking her by the arm. “We need to go.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
But barely had the words left her mouth when she heard it, too. The bark of a dog, and not far behind it, the sound of horses. Her eyes widened, and she dug her heels into the ground, preventing him from pulling her toward the horse. “But what about Sir Kenneth? Don’t we need to wait for him?”
His mouth fell in a grim line. “He’ll find us.”
He hoped. But the sound of approaching horsemen did not bode well. He cursed again—silently, not wanting to add to her concern. But the mission that had started out bad only seemed to be getting worse.
He was about to help her up on the horse, when she pulled away again. “Wait! I forgot my dagger.”
Realizing she must have used it to try to defend herself, he stopped her from going after it. “I’ll get it.”
He approached the body of the dead knight. It didn’t take him long to locate the knife.
