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The Guardian’s Favor

Page 17

by Cecelia Mecca

“Take one of my men . . .”

“No.”

Lawrence would be stubborn on this. “You will not travel alone with a murderer.”

“I refuse—”

“Do you imply I need so many men to guard me?”

He had him, and his friend knew it. Glowering at him, Lawrence nonetheless extended his hand to Aidan.

“Until we meet again.”

Aidan shook it, the firm squeeze a reminder of Lawrence’s strength. “Thank you for accompanying me. He nodded toward the trees. “I must go . . .” Turning to address his men, he said, “One of you, go to Clan Karyn. The rest of you, back to back.”

The warning to be on alert was hardly needed. His men knew what to do. Running back toward Clarissa, he found her exactly as he had left her. Alone and scared.

Squatting down next to her, he said, “It’s over.”

He understood the tears that sprang to her eyes. Knowing her father, he did not doubt this was the first time she’d been involved in any sort of attack.

She was shaking, and Aidan didn’t blame her. He stood, lifting her with him. Without thinking, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.

This could be Gillian, or Allie. Another sister. She simply needs comfort.

Hell . . . she didn’t feel like a sister. Clarissa felt as she had the only other time he’d held her this close.

Damn good.

Too good.

“I . . . I don’t know why—”

Resisting the urge to move his hand up far enough to feel her glossy hair, Aidan said, “It is done. Scottish reivers, one in custody, the others fled. They will not hurt you.”

It would take a bit longer for her body to catch up with her mind’s reaction. As soon as Clarissa realized she was indeed safe, they needed to get back on the road.

He waited, trying to pretend holding her this way had no effect on him. Trying to pretend the way her small hands clasped his tunic did not make him feel stronger and more powerful.

“I’m sorry.” Her words were mumbled against his chest. She pulled away then, wiping her eyes and looking at him as if seeing him for the first time. “I did not mean—”

He released her and stepped back. Aidan had no choice. He could not be this close to her.

“The first time my father, brother, and I were attacked on the road,” he said, “was on this very journey south. I thought I was well prepared, but by the time the skirmish ended, I had not stepped but a short distance away from my mount. My father and his men, including my brother, dispatched three English reivers to God in the same time it took me to dismount.”

He hated that particular memory. Aidan had not had the opportunity to atone for his inaction for several more years.

“There is no shame in being unprepared for death,” he continued.

Their eyes met.

He did not need the moonlight to know her eyes were the most extraordinary shade of brown, like darkened liquid gold. Everything he’d felt for her in the past was still there. The months he’d spent cursing her after the tourney didn’t matter. Nor did the torment he’d endured upon learning she was married. Nor did the fact that she was still married.

He stepped back, as if burned.

“Lawrence is taking our hostage back with him,” he said, walking away. Hearing the crunch of twigs behind him, he continued. “You’ll ride with me. If you tire, sleep. By the time the sun rises, we should arrive at Sutworth Manor.”

She would be in the care of others. No longer his concern.