Satan's stones, there was a bloody war going on! What in Hades was Lorn thinking to let her wander like this?
He turned to his brother. "I'll take the friar to Oban. You return to the castle with Lady Anna."
Ah hell. He saw his brother's eyes narrow and knew she'd done it again. She'd made him do something without thinking. He'd just given an order to his captain. He didn't make mistakes like that.
"I'll take the friar," Dugald said, a hard edge to his voice. "Youcan take the Lady Anna."
The lady in question seemed to pick up on the sudden tension between the two brothers. "No one needs to take me anywhere. I'm perfectly fine with Robby."
Arthur felt himself backed into the corner again. He knew his brother: Dugald had dug in his heels and would not retreat. Arthur had challenged his authority, and he couldn't afford to get in a pissing match with his brother. If someone was going to accompany her, it would have to be him.
But that would mean giving up on a chance to see whether the friar was one of Lorn's messengers.
He should just let her go. Most likely she'd be fine.
Most likely.
The days were long. It probably would still be light when she returned.
Probably.
His fists clenched as the frustration coiled inside him. "I'm sure you are fine," he said, to preserve the lad's tender pride. "But it would be my honor to see you back to the castle, my lady."
Anna wasn't happy to see him at all.
After weeks of avoiding her--leaving at the first opportunity--nowthe contrary man decides to anoint himself her stalwart protector?
Of course, she hadn't forgotten what he'd done for her. When she'd looked up into those amazing dark golden eyes and realized that he'd caught her, realized that he'd saved her, realized he was cradling her in his arms ...
It had been the most romantic moment of her life.
The most romanticsinglemoment. Because the next he'd set her on her feet, told her to be more careful, and left her standing there gaping at him.
How had he reached her so quickly? She remembered the flash of alarm in his eyes. It was almost as if he knew she'd been about to fall. Which of course was ridiculous ... wasn't it?
But unconsciously she tucked her basket closer to her side. The man was entirely too watchful; she would have to think of something to distract him.
"Come along then, if you insist." She spun on her heel and started back down the path.
His hand on her elbow, however, stopped her in her tracks. Her heart stopped as well, before kicking into a sudden race. He wasn't gripping her hard, but she could feel every one of his fingers burning into her skin. A blast of awareness flooded her skin with heat.
She'd told herself she'd exaggerated the intensity of her reaction to him. But she hadn't. Whyhim?Her attraction to him was inexplicable.
"Where is your horse?" he demanded. "The castle is in the other direction."
"I'm not yet returning to the castle. I've still a few more villagers to visit."
"It will be dark soon."
Lud, he had a forbidding frown. She carefully extracted her elbow from his hand. "It won't be dark for at least four hours. I've plenty of time."
And before he could argue, she started off down the path, waving her quick goodbyes to Brother Rory, the friar, and Sir Dugald.
From his disapproving expression, she could tell that Arthur wasn't pleased with the arrangement, but he followed along beside her like a brooding, unwelcome shadow.
They visited three more homes. The first belonged to Malcolm, who'd lost his sword arm fighting against the rebels at Glen Trool and was having a difficult time adjusting to life away from the battlefield.
Yet covered in scars and missing an arm, Anna knew he'd give another one if only he could go back. She didn't understand this love some men had for war, and probably never would. She was tired of scars, of missing limbs, of wives without husbands and children without fathers.
