Lorn lifted an indolent brow. "Going somewhere, Campbell?"
"Aye," Arthur said casually--as if he didn't have armed men surrounding him. "I'm joining the team on the night's patrol." He glanced around meaningfully, not having to feign his outrage. "What is the meaning of this?"
Lorn smiled, though his expression held no humor. "I'm afraid you are going to be detained for a bit. There are a few matters we need to clear up."
Arthur took a step forward. He heard the slink and clatter of mail as the guardsmen around him responded to the perceived threat, lifting their swords and closing in tighter around him.
But it wasn't necessary. He was trapped. He might be able to fight his way through two dozen men circled around him with swords poised at his neck, but the gate was already locked for the night. He wouldn't be able to get past it before the entire castle was roused.
There was no way out.
His gaze flickered to Alan, but he would get no help from that direction. His gaze was as hard and unrelenting as his father's, albeit without the glitter of steely malevolence.
Every instinct urged him to fight. To pull his sword from its scabbard and take a few of Lorn's men with him. But he forced himself to stay calm. Not to do anything foolish. His mission had to come first. If there was a chance in hell that he could escape to warn Bruce, he had to take it. Maybe he could talk his way out of this. He couldn't be sure how much she'd told them.
"Can it wait?" he said. "The men are waiting for me."
"I'm afraid not," Lorn said. With a wave of his hand, two of his strongest men stepped forward to grab Arthur by the arms. "Take him to the guard room. Search him."
Ah hell. There would be no talking his way out of this.
He'd forgotten about the note. The message he'd planned to leave in the cave for the king tonight. A small slip of paper folded in his sporran with three words that would seal his fate:Attack, 14th, Brander.
Although perhaps his fate had been sealed two months ago. The moment he'd come face-to-face with the girl he'd rescued in an ill-fated attack. The girl who could unmask him.
With a fierce battle cry that tore through the night, Arthur let instinct take over.Bas roimh Geill--Death before Surrender. He fought like a wildman, taking five men down before he fell beneath the pommel of Alan MacDougall's sword.
As blackness closed over him, he knew it wasn't over yet. And it was about to get worse.
They wanted him alive.
Twenty-three
Her heart shouldn't feel as if it were breaking.
Anna wanted him to go. He'd lied to her. Betrayed her. Used her. He wanted to destroy everything that was important to her. How could he think there would ever be a chance for them?
He'd even tried to turn their passion against her. As if a kiss could make her forget what he'd done. She'd hated him at that moment. Hated him for sullying something that was beautiful and pure.
She told herself this was what she wanted. But when he'd turned his back on her and walked away, the ice in her heart started to crack.
He was leaving.Leaving.
She would never see him again.
Oh God. She held herself stone still, not daring to move, but her insides started to shudder. She felt as if she were a thin pane of glass being battered by a violent storm of emotions. On the surface strong, but in reality fragile. One hard blow and she would shatter into thousands of tiny pieces.
After what he'd done, she shouldn't feel like this. It shouldn't hurt so much. The pain. The burning. The despair. The feeling that her heart was being ripped out of her. The intensity of emotion seemed like weakness. She was strong. Where was her pride? She was a MacDougall.
But right now all she felt like was a girl who was watching the man she loved walk away from her forever.
Unable to bear it a moment longer--and fearing what he would see if he turned around--she ran. Ran as fast as she ever had up the stairs, until she reached the safety of her chamber. There, careful not to wake her sleeping sisters, she collapsed on her bed, pulled the covers over her head, and crumpled like a poppet of rags. Only then did she let her emotions break through in silent sobs that seemed wrenched from her soul.
Sensing her distress, Squire curled up beside her. She hugged the puppy to her, the warm, furry ball of unconditional love her loyal companion during the long, miserable night.
I love you.
She couldn't get the words out of her head. He'd sounded so sincere. But he'd lied about everything else, so how could she believe him? Even if it was true, it shouldn't matter.
