"Then the reason you wish to leave your mission before it is completed is because of the lass?"
"It's gotten complicated." Knowing it sounded insufficient, even to himself, he explained how Lorn had questioned him about the attack, how he'd feared Lorn might be suspicious, and how he'd been forced into a betrothal.
"But that's fantastic news," the king said, looking happy for the first time since he'd entered the tent. "You've gotten closer to Lorn than I ever dreamed possible. I'm sorry the lass is involved, but no harm will truly come to her. A young girl's heart is quick to mend."
Admittedly, the king, who was known for his way with the lasses, had far more experience than he did, but in this case Arthur didn't think so. Anna loved too fiercely. Too blindly.
"I can't let you leave," the king finished. "Not yet. Not with battle so near. I need you inside to see what they intend. The information you've been providing is too valuable. Victory is too close to let it be snatched away at the last minute. John of Lorn is a black-hearted devil, but I do not underestimate his strategy in warfare, or his ability to surprise."
Arthur knew the king would not be dissuaded. Robert Bruce burned for retribution. Lorn had defeated him before; he wouldn't let anything stand in his way this time. One woman's heart was a small price to pay.
"We will attack the castle at dawn on the sixteenth," MacLeod said, seeming to sense his frustration. "It will only be a few more days."
But he didn't know Anna MacDougall. Arthur would rather face the first King Edward's war-wolf siege engine than try to resist Anna for "a few more days."
Twenty
"They're back!"
Mary's excited voice sent Anna rushing to their bower window. Frantically, she searched the mail-clad forms streaming through the castle gate. When she finally saw the familiar broad shoulders, she exhaled the breath it seemed she'd been holding for four days.
He'd come back. He hadn't left her. She felt foolish even thinking it of him. But she didn't want to admit to herself how worried she'd been.
Anna tossed down her embroidery and ran out of the room on the heels of her sister, who seemed just as excited as she was by the scouting party's return. Her brow furrowed. Did her sister care for Arthur's brother more than she let on?
They arrived in the Hall just as the men were being ushered into her father's solar to give their report. The evening meal had finished some time ago, but she and Mary ordered food and drink to be prepared for the scouting party while they waited. A wait that seemed interminable. Finally the men emerged from her father's solar and came into the Hall. First her brothers, then Sir Dugald, and then, at last, Arthur.
He was caked with dirt and dust, his face weathered by the sun, his jaw bearing four days of a beard, and he smelled of horse and sun, but he'd never looked more wonderful to her. If a hall full of clansmen weren't surrounding them, she would have catapulted herself into his arms.
They stood off to the side for a moment, while the servants readied the tables. This time he couldn't avoid her.
"You are well?" she asked, not trusting her eyes.
His gaze softened, sensing her concern. "Aye, lass, I am well. In need of a good long dunking, but otherwise perfectly hale."
"I'm glad to hear that." She bit her lip, gazing up at him hesitantly. "I-I missed you."
His face shuttered, the pulse below his jaw ticking. "Anna ..."
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight. "Did you think of me at all?"
"I had much on my mind." But seeing her expression, he sighed. "Aye, lass, I thought of you."
The admission might have made her happy had it not been so reluctantly given.
The trestle tables had been set out, and the servants had started to bring out the platters of food. The rest of the men began to filter over to the benches. From their place near the door of her father's solar, he looked over her shoulder as if he were anxious to join them.
She couldn't fool herself any longer. "You don't want this betrothal." The truth stung. She stared at him, the burning in her chest excruciating. "Is there ..." She could barely get the words out. He'd spoken of a bride as a reward. "Is there someone else you were hoping to marry?"
He gave her a harsh look. "What are you talking about? I told you there was no one else."
"Then it's just me you don't want."
His face looked pained. "Anna ..." He cleared his throat. "This isn't the time."
Some of her frustration gave way, despite the people around them. "It's never the time. You are either gone, locked away in meetings, or busy practicing. When, pray tell,isthe time?"
Clearly frustrated, he raked his helm-crimped hair back with his hand. It fell in soft waves past his ear, and she almost reached out to tuck it behind his ear before she stopped herself.
