“Those fools should have stayed by their boat and gone back out onto the water at first light, but their empty bellies and lust gained us some time. When they dinna return tae their garrison, more soldiers will be sent out tae the stronghold, and whoever is in command will have no choice but tae obey the edict. Except now we’ll be lying in wait along the road tae Carlisle with a wee surprise for them—”
“We?”
“Of course, you’ll have tae ride along with us. How else will we know if your father and brother are among the prisoners?”
Astonished, Aislinn could only gape at Cameron as he signaled for his men to mount up.
Already the cloudless sky was brightening. They had risen before dawn to steaming hot porridge with cream and fresh baked bread served to them by the farmer and his wife, who couldn’t stop thanking them.
The family stood now in the doorway to their modest home, but as soon as Aislinn moved to her horse, the girl named Sorcha came running to give her a hug.
“Thank you, Lady De Burgh, thank you!”
Aislinn hugged her back, hard, all the while praying that no more English soldiers would trouble them as Sorcha spun around and threw her arms around Cameron.
He looked so nonplussed for a moment that Aislinn almost laughed, but that wouldn’t do at all when he was trying so hard to overcome his affliction.
“Go on now—and God be with you and your parents,” he murmured to the girl, who bobbed her head, her blue eyes alight, and ran back to the house with her golden hair flying.
Aye, if Cameron kept on as he was doing, there would be no sign left of the crippling shyness that had plagued him since boyhood—his sudden smile at Aislinn making her heart skip a beat.
Had a man ever been born so handsome?
The look he gave her alone would melt any woman’s heart—a warmth in his eyes that sent familiar shivers coursing through her as he came closer and reached out his hand.
“Let me help you.”
She thought to say that she could mount her steed by herself, but something made her hold her tongue and nod.
Ever since she had watched him carry Sorcha to his horse, so kindly, so gently… awakening that memory in Aislinn of Cameron holding her the same way though she must have reeked from that horrible pit—aye, she couldn’t help but look at him differently.
As his hands, strong and sure, encircled her waist to lift her up onto the saddle, she could not deny that her resentment toward him after he’d pulled her onto his horse was gone altogether.
She saw now so clearly that he hadn’t meant to humiliate her in front of his men, but prevent her from falling and hurting herself—just as he had said.
And when he’d given his own knife to her last night, even though he was still angry at her for riding off into the woods, she could hardly believe it!
Even moments ago, when she had snapped at him, provoking his frustration, she couldn’t deny that he’d been right about her reaction to his news. If she had known last night about everything the prisoner had revealed to him, she would have insisted they set out at once for Dumbarton, no time to waste—
“You look pale, Aislinn.” Cameron’s concerned voice broke into her thoughts as he gazed up at her, handing her the reins. “It’s still so soon after everything you suffered. Would you rather ride with me the rest of the way?”
Again, her first impulse was to retort that she was fine and could ride her own horse—aye, Finnegan had been right about her temper!—but she simply shook her head.
“I’m fine, Cameron, truly. Don’t worry for me—”
“Woman, I’ve done nothing but worry since the first time I saw you,” he said with such candor that she felt a lump rise in her throat. A sudden fierceness burned in his eyes as he added, “If you hear any more screams, dinna ride off by yourself, Aislinn. Will you promise me?”
She didn’t readily answer, her first instinct to say that she had his knife to protect her now, but something so earnest in his expression stilled her tongue and made her nod.
“No, you must say it.”
“Aye, I promise.”
He seemed to exhale slowly as if he’d been holding his breath, but then he nodded, too, and turned from her to stride to his horse.
Something so intense having passed between them that Aislinn couldn’t even name it, though she felt it in her heart.
A tug. A pull, her eyes meeting Cameron’s as he mounted and gestured for her to ride beside him—not behind him.
