Already within his heart, his mind, his very soul, Cameron had claimed her for his own.
And if winning her heart meant helping her find her father and brother, or at least what had happened to them, then aye, he would do it!
And if overcoming his affliction meant he must make himself speak to her as any man might to a lass, Cameron feeling truly hopeful for the first time in his life—aye, he would do it!
Chapter 8
Aislinn had never felt so humiliated—aye, so much so that she had refused to utter a word to Cameron since that debacle when he had pulled her onto his horse.
Refused to meet his gaze whenever she felt him watching her, which seemed to be at every turn.
When they had stopped to water the horses or to eat from the provisions packed for them—salted venison, oatcakes, dried apples, and a crock of cold porridge that had been tasteless without any fresh cream.
When they had camped for a few hours last night at the rocky base of a bluff, a fire fed with gathered branches, grass, and twigs, keeping them warm against the cool night air. Aislinn and Cameron off to one side, while his men spread out on the other three sides and took turns sleeping and watching guard.
When Aislinn had gotten up from a tartan blanket spread upon the ground to venture a short way into the trees to relieve herself, Cameron’s gaze hard upon her.
He had seemed disinclined to sleep, while she had finally allowed herself to rest after staring up into the star-filled sky, her eyes welling with tears.
Tears that she had tried to blink away in vain, the moisture trickling down her cheeks as she had turned her face away from the fire.
Aye, her mortification so great that even now, on the second evening of their journey, Aislinn felt as if it might choke her.
The same tortured thoughts whirling in her mind and making her clench the reins in silent outrage.
She had offered to help Cameron in all sincerity with his affliction and yet what had he done? Seized upon the first opportunity to put her in her place—a woman’s place!—while his men had laughed at her.
Laughed when Cameron had grabbed her from her horse and wedged her between his thighs… strong, muscular thighs that had been like a vise at her hips, his equally powerful arms holding her fast no matter how hard she struggled.
Laughed when Cameron continued to hold her when he could have easily called for her horse and released her.
God only knows what his men must have been thinking at the sight of Cameron clasping her so closely—saints help her, at least they were riding behind them in formation and couldn’t see her face!
Her cheeks aflame at the stirring warmth she’d felt in Cameron’s arms.
She had never been held in such a manner, her bottom jammed against his inner thighs while something rigid pressed her there—ah, God, she wasn’t so naïve about men that she hadn’t known exactly what was happening!
All the while, Cameron’s breathing tickling her ear, not harsh but not steady, either, as he had drawn her even closer.
Her breathing unsteady, too, the strangest sensation coursing through her that she’d never known before… her mind screaming for him to let her go while her trembling body seemed to have betrayed her.
Now as she rode upon her own horse behind him, his broad back to her and his shoulders tense as if he sensed her watching him, Aislinn shivered.
Aye, right to her toes, just like the moment before she had pulled so fiercely on the reins and caused Cameron’s steed to rear up on its hind legs—both of them toppling into the dirt.
Thathad made his men stop laughing, while Aislinn had resolved not to speak to Cameron ever again—aye, she couldn’t wait until they reached the place where King Robert and his forces were quartered!
She had overheard Cameron talking to his men yesterday before they left the fortress that their destination was Dumbarton Castle, so recently held by the English but now in Scottish hands. The very place where William Wallace had been imprisoned before being taken to London and his grisly death—aye, they all knew in Éire of that courageous warrior’s efforts to free his country from King Edward’s tyranny.
Yet many in her homeland had despised Wallace—aye, those who held land and estates granted by the Crown. Many De Burghs were loyal to King Edward, while others, like her father, had chosen a different path and supported King Robert.
Just thinking about her family made Aislinn chew her lower lip.
She wished so desperately that they had arrived at the castle, but another night lay ahead of them—dusk already settling over the land. The craggy mountains to the north swathed in darkening hues of purple and blue, while the rolling hills in front of them were tinged with gold from the last warming rays of the sun.
Aye, another night where she would have to lie close to Cameron on one side of the fire while the men not standing guard grunted and snored in their sleep like pigs!
She knew she shouldn’t think so ill of them, loyal as they all were to King Robert, but after them laughing at her? If she’d had a knife at her belt, they wouldn’t have been so amused, but blinking in surprise when she held the weapon to Cameron’s throat—
