A Rebel's Desire (Highland Heartbeats Book 2)

by Aileen Adams

  He watched her and finally nodded. “I understand, Heather. I do. But there's also safety to consider, and I don't think you've been doing much of that of late.”

  She held back a sigh. She knew he only wanted to keep her safe.

  It was his job.

  She shouldn't be mad at him for that.

  Still, the fact that he impeded on her plans was frustrating. She would likely have to curtail her ventures into the woods for the next couple of nights. She would have to come up with some pretext to go to the village tomorrow to let Kevin know. Perhaps she could somehow find a way to speak with him if he was training with the soldiers in the meadow.

  Surely Jake would keep a careful eye on her for a day or two, but he couldn't do that for long. He had too many other responsibilities.

  “I won't cause you any more trouble, Jake,” she said. Still keeping her fingers crossed behind her back, she continued. “From now on, I'll do my stargazing from the meadow by the pond.”

  She decided that much was truthful. Every once in a while, just to keep him convinced that she was abiding by his rules, she would make it obvious that she was going out to the meadow. She took it even a step further. “Would you feel better if I took a lantern with me so that everybody in the house could see where I'm sitting?”

  He frowned. “No need to be sarcastic, Heather. But yes, that would be a good idea.”

  It was Heather's turn to scowl.

  Such a frustrating man!

  So far, she had been lucky, but she didn't want or need Jake eyeing her every move.

  The more agreeable she was, the more she reassured him through her actions that she was thinking more about safety, the better off she would be. She was sure that Kevin wouldn't mind. Even if she didn’t meet him the next couple of nights, she would nevertheless make sure that he had a basket of freshly baked bread, perhaps even some dried meats to make up for a couple of days that she would need to wait before her next archery lesson.

  She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is there anything else?”

  Again, with the grin.

  She had to admit that he did look a lot friendlier, and the dimple in his right cheek was attractive.

  She couldn't help but stare. She pulled her gaze away and looked up at his eyes again. She inwardly cursed, knowing that he'd seen her staring. Again, she felt the heat in her cheeks.

  “Goodnight, Jake!”

  She firmly closed the door.

  Behind it, she heard him chuckling as he moved down the hallway to his own room. Pressing her ear against the wood, she listened as he opened his own chamber door and then closed it.

  She returned to her pacing, but instead of worrying about her secret being divulged, she now she worried about these strange feelings flooding through her.

  Over Jake.

  She recalled the sensation of his lips against hers and the tingling afterward. The memory prompted her to lift her fingers to her lips.

  She wasn't interested in Jake.

  She wasn’t!

  Was she?

  She had always found him interesting, but not nearly as approachable as Phillip, who was intimidating in his own right.

  The two brothers were so different.

  Then again, so where she and Sarah.

  Finally, tired of thinking about Jake, tired of trying to figure out her own feelings about him, and how she could continue her training without Jake finding out, she readied herself for bed.

  * * *

  Over the next couple of days, Heather kept her promise to Jake.

  After all, she hadn't told him how long she would acquiesce to his demands. That's exactly what they were.

  Demands.

  She harrumphed.

  Just because they had been said politely didn't make them anything else. She made it a point to tell Sarah or anyone else who was interested that she was going stargazing out by the pond. She received a few odd glances, but nothing more. She even lit a lantern and took it out with her. Mostly just to annoy Jake, if he happened to be looking, which she was sure he was.

  She had seen him shadowing her on numerous occasions over the past few days. Either Jake or his cronies—Hugh or Maccay—both pretending innocence when she confronted them. They looked chagrined, but unapologetic, merely offering her shrugs.

  After that, she ignored all three of them to the best of her ability.

  By the fourth night, she was fairly sure that Jake was satisfied.

  After supper, she told everyone she was tired and retiring early. Sarah asked if she was all right, and she replied that she was, but wanted to just climb under the covers and catch up on sleep.

  Jake had watched her go upstairs.

  She waited in her room, sitting impatiently on her bed until she finally heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

  Jake walked to his room.

  She heard Sarah and Phillip talking softly as they entered their own room.

  Soon, all sounds in the house settled.

  As quietly as possible she walked to her door and ever so slowly pulled the leather thong to lift the latch. Silently, she slipped from her room, closed the door, and then hurried down the hallway, walking quickly on the balls of her feet as she headed for the stairs. She didn't make a sound.

  In a matter of seconds, she was out of the house.

  She huddled close to the walls, deep in the shadows, pausing at the corner of the house to make sure that nobody was watching. Staying to the shadows offered by the trees, she quickly darted into the woods.

  She had sent a note to Kevin earlier in the day, asking him to meet her at the meadow. Before she reached the meadow, she stopped by her hiding place.

  Quickly glancing over her shoulder—which she had done more than once on her way here—she nimbly climbed out of her gown, kirtle, and long linen undergown.

  The cool night air raised goose flesh on her exposed limbs, despite the linen knickers and thin, sleeveless shirt she wore beneath the undergown.

  Hissing with cold, she quickly donned the boy's trousers and tied the leather belt snugly around her waist. Next, she pulled on a pair of knee-high boots. A little big, but she had stuffed some straw into the toes. A long-sleeved tunic and an oversized vest completed the ensemble. Not ideal, but she couldn't afford to be picky. Soon, she would have to find something warmer to wear.

  The cool air bit through the tunic, and she quickly rubbed her arms to get rid of the goose flesh. She slapped the cap on her head and tucked her braid into the tunic.

  She sighed as she squatted, rubbed her palms in the dirt, and then smeared the dirt onto her face. She couldn't be too careful.

  In a matter of minutes, she was ready.

  She cautiously approached the meadow, saw that Kevin had already arrived, gazing anxiously around. He looked up at the stars and then toward the trees where a hoot owl sent his call into the night. Other than that, all was quiet and still.

  Not even the long grass of the meadow rustled.

  Satisfied that she hadn't been followed, Heather quickly walked toward Kevin, anxious for tonight's lesson. They wouldn't be practicing archery tonight.

  Tonight, was the sword. Well, wooden swords. Kevin had fashioned them out of scrap pieces of wood. Where he kept them hidden, she didn't know, and didn't ask.

  “You're late. I didn't think you were coming.”

  “How to make sure everyone was asleep. Jake Duncan is keeping a close eye.” She saw his eyes widen and sought to reassure him. “Don't worry, Kevin. I've got it under control. That's why I haven't met with you the past few evenings. He was keeping a close watch, but he's busy with other things now. Besides, I made sure I wasn't followed.”

  “You sure? I don't want any trouble from either of the Duncans.”

  “I'm sure,” she nodded. “Ready to get started? We only have an hour tonight.”

  Kevin nodded and handed her one of the wooden swords. Rudely crafted, the sword was only a couple of feet in length, but adequate for their pur
poses.

  Kevin had shown her a few basic moves, but she needed practice—

  “The most important thing about sword fighting?”

  Kevin was testing her.

  She thought a moment. “Be prepared not only for battle, but to always take in the environment and situation and determine how to turn the environment to your advantage.”

  He nodded. “I'm glad you remembered. After all, it's not just about the act of fighting. It’s about following your intuition. It could save your life.”

  “I’ll remember,” she said.

  “Also, remember that every fight is different. It depends on the time of day, your environment, the landscape, and so forth.”

  She nodded, swinging the pretend sword at her side. “I remember, Kevin. A dark environment can serve as concealment, for me or an opponent. Always make sure I have an escape route.” She smiled. “And most importantly, resist the urge to panic.”

  He nodded. “Okay, let's get started.”

  Over the next hour, Heather practiced keeping her feet shoulder-width apart, always moving with her legs spread equally, so she didn't trip over her feet.

  He instructed her to more or less slide her feet rather than take steps, reminding her that this kind of sword fighting was not like fencing, with elegant parries and thrusts and large steps.

  He cautioned her to keep a straight back, her torso slightly forward to help keep her balance when she slashed with the sword. He taught her how to watch his body for cues as to his anticipated movements and not only how to counter strikes, but engage in preemptive strikes.

  In hardly any time at all, she felt the physical activity. She began to perspire, and her breath came faster. Highly alert, she tried to watch his every move, every gesture, and every twitch of Kevin's muscles.

  Sword fighting was not only physically exhausting, but mentally exhausting. She much preferred archery, but she knew that she had to grow more adept with different types of weapons.

  Finally, when her heart pounded, and she felt a stitch at her side, she backed off.

  Kevin called a halt to their practice.

  “Enough for tonight. I'll be training with the soldiers again tomorrow.” He extended his hand, and she handed him the wooden sword. “How do you feel?”

  She rotated her shoulders and clenched and unclenched her hands. “Tired, but I feel I did better tonight than I did last week. What do you think?”

  “You're improving,” he agreed. “But don't get cocky. There's still much to learn.”

  She agreed. “Tomorrow I’ll make sure there's a basket outside your house. I appreciate you coming out so late at night to help me,” she said.

  He offered a shrug. “I can't believe I'm doing this. Teaching a girl how to fight.”

  She smiled. “Your secret is mine,” she said softly.

  “And yours is mine,” he agreed.

  In a matter of moments, he had faded into the shadows of the trees on his way back home.

  Now that she had stopped moving, the cool night air felt even colder. She had just turned around, prepared to hurry back toward the spot where she’d hidden her clothes when the voice came out of nowhere.

  “What in the bloody blazes do you think you two are doing out here this time of night?”

  She barely bit back a scream and spun around, horrified to find Jake standing not ten feet away, hands resting on his hips, staring at her. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She tried to speak, but only a squeak came out.

  “Where do you belong, lad? And what are you up to out here?”

  Lad?

  He didn't know it was her.

  Thank goodness!

  She had to get away before he discovered the truth. Instinctively, the only thing she could think of to do at the moment was to turn and run. She did just that, disappearing in the same direction Kevin had gone, hopefully leading Jake to think that she lived in the village.

  Being lame, she didn't think her would be able to follow.

  She was right.

  She dashed into the trees, weaving her way this way and that, nearly slamming into a tree. Her shoulder bounced off the trunk of a pine tree, and she fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of her with a grunt.

  Several seconds later she was able to suck in a lung full of air.

  She listened carefully.

  No sound.

  Carefully, she got back to her feet and proceeded to take the long way around the meadow back toward the spot where she’d left her clothes, trying to be as careful as possible not to step on any twigs.

  She did step on a pine cone once, and one time a dried leaf, but after each incident, she froze, listening, head tilting.

  It was silent out there.

  The hoot owl had long since disappeared. Even the ever-present scampering of squirrels seemed to have quieted down, the night animals snug in their shelters.

  An uneasy feeling crept over her, and she felt the skin crawl up her spine. It wasn't supposed to be that quiet out here. She didn’t even hear any crickets.

  Slowly, she wove her way through the trees, grateful that Jake hadn't seemed inclined to follow the two lads pretending to sword fight in the meadow.

  She was close to the spot where she had left her clothes. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, carefully scanned what she could see among the trees, lit by the quarter moon.

  She turned around—and slammed into something hard.

  She almost chuckled when she realized she had run into yet another tree trunk.

  But the laugh halted in her throat when she felt hands grip on her upper arms.

  Not a tree.

  A man!

  A large man.

  A surge of horror swept through her. Heart pounding, she realized that Jake had been right.

  She was in danger—

  “What you doing out here, boy?”

  Jake.

  At that moment, Heather wanted to cry with frustration.

  Why?

  Why was he so intent on ruining her plans?

  Without thinking, she swung her foot and kicked him in the shin.

  He grunted in pain, but instead of releasing his grip on her arms, he merely tightened it. Then shook her. So hard, that her teeth clamped together and she bit her tongue.

  Warm tears flooded her eyes, and she gasped in pain.

  He froze.

  At least the shaking had stopped, but the menacing tone of voice had not. “You'll be coming with me, lad.”

  He still didn't know it was her.

  So far, her disguise had held her in good stead. But the minute they emerged into the meadow; the moment she was more visible under the moonlight, the greater the chance of discovery.

  And that's exactly how it happened.

  He dragged her into the meadow.

  She lost her footing and began to fall, but one strong hand lifted her upward, carrying her along until she got her feet back under her again.

  He spun her around.

  She watched as he ducked his head and stooped down a little to peer closer into her face. She heard the low growl rumble in his chest. His hand reached up to sweep the cap off her head.

  Still not sure, he suddenly clasped his meaty fist around her jaw and lifted her face toward the moonlight.

  6

  Jake wasn’t happy. An hour ago, he had been ready for sleep when Phillip had come to his room and asked him to meet him downstairs in the room he used to conduct the business of the manor.

  “Phillip,” he said, stepping through the doorway. “Why are you working so late?”

  “Where have you been off to these past few days?”

  Jake pondered, wondering if he should say anything. No, for now, he would keep Heather's secret. He shrugged. “Just roaming around the property, the village. Why?”

  So, it really didn't surprise him when Phillip spoke. “One of the outlying sentries reported some sitings to Maccay. At any rate, tomorrow I want you to start riding the perimeter
of our lands. Maccay and Hugh will also ride. Between the three of you and your men, you should make the journey in a few days. See if you can find any sign of her or other clans on our lands.”

  Jake had agreed, glad to be doing something more useful, like defending the Duncan lands against encroachers. And to find Ceana… now that was something he looked forward to.

  He had left Phillip and started to return to his room, but something caused him to turn toward the door of the house and venture outside.

  Heather was asleep up in her room, but on the chance he could find something that told him what she was up to, he decided to take a quick look at the meadow in the forest. It wasn’t far, and he would take a look and be in bed within the hour.

  Or so he had thought.

  Now, chasing after the lad who had the audacity to think that he could outrun or outfox Jake Duncan, he was determined to catch him. He may not have speed on his side anymore, but as a soldier with years of experience tracking, anticipating the enemy's moves, and sometimes even trapping, he knew that patience in such circumstances was often more beneficial than speed.

  With every step, he took in the chilled night air, his leg protested. With every protest came increased annoyance with the lad he followed.

  Did he really care that he found two youngsters sword fighting in the meadow?

  No, but why in the middle of the night? Children played every day, but at night? Away from the village?

  Why? Boys of various ages trained with Duncans soldiers in the meadow by the pond. Nothing unusual about that either. So why sneak off in the middle of the night?

  He half-trotted, half-walked as he followed the thrashing sounds of the lad trying to escape. Where did he think he was going to go?

  The boy may not realize it, but he was now running away from the village and heading back toward Duncan Manor. Was he one of the household staff's children? It didn't matter.

  When he realized the direction the lad took, aware of it or not, he slowed to a walk, resisting the urge to grasp his aching thigh with his hand with every step.

  Gritting his teeth, Jake slowed his pace a little, but still walked quickly. He would pay for this activity in the morning, and that rankled him even more than the fact that he was chasing a boy through the woods late at night.