by Trisha Telep
“We have spies there,” Rory said. “They would have seen him.”
Braden’s frustration grew with each day that passed that Niall still lived, so he understood the irritation that filled Rory’s words. “He went through unseen just as he did when he came into my home before and murdered my father, my uncle and my sister.”
“He’s not human,” Keith muttered.
Braden had long believed that Niall had sold his soul to the devil. He hated even admitting the bastard was related to him, but there was no denying Niall was his cousin.
Few knew that small detail, but the ones who did understood why Braden was so determined to stop the bastard.
“You know the castle better than anyone, Braden,” Keith said. “I’ve told you before, we can get inside and take him. Your people are still loyal to you.”
Braden’s mind raced with possibilities. “It may come to taking the castle. We’ll need more men.”
“MacKay said you could count on him. There are other lairds who would join you as well,” Rory said.
Braden looked from Rory to Keith before he nodded. “Get everyone to send some men. We’re going to need all the Highlanders we can get.”
He turned on his heel and started towards the entrance when Keith’s voice stopped him.
“Where are you going? Doona you want to begin to plan?”
Braden couldn’t think of anything but tawny eyes and full, ripe lips begging to be kissed. “I need to check on Colin. I’ll return shortly.”
As he exited Braden could have sworn he heard Keith snort. He didn’t care that Keith knew the real reason that he wanted to check on Colin was to see Jean.
Braden cared about his men. All of them. They risked their lives every time they went into battle against Niall. But, this time, it wasn’t Colin that kept intruding on his thoughts.
He ducked inside Colin’s tent to see Jean slumped over, her head on her arms as she slept. Braden watched her for a moment, content to take in the sight of her at his leisure.
There had been many women who had caught his eye, but none had made him burn as Jean did. What was it about her? She was head-turning with her midnight locks, ochre eyes, and body made for sin. But it was the fire inside her, so like the untamed spirit he himself possessed, that called to him.
Braden had kept himself detached from anyone other than his men for fear that Niall might use them against him. Braden was already testing fate merely by keeping Jean in his camp. If Niall ever discovered how much Braden wanted Jean, her life would be over.
Despite the warnings in his mind, Braden couldn’t keep away from her. He crossed the distance between them on silent feet.
An onyx lock had come free of her braid and fell over her cheek. Braden lifted the shiny strand, amazed at its cool, soft texture. He held it a moment longer before he tucked it behind her ear.
He had to fist his hand to keep from touching her, and turned on his heel. He grabbed a blanket and spread it on the ground at the back of the tent. Then he slowly, carefully lifted Jean in his arms and laid her on the blanket.
He had lowered her to the tartan, but he was not yet ready to release her. She exhaled softly and turned on to her side away from him. Braden couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips.
Nor could he halt the overwhelming temptation to reach for her.
He caressed her cheek down to her jaw with the back of his fingers. No skin had ever felt so smooth, ever looked so velvety.
A long, ragged breath left his body. He ached to touch more of her. He yearned to know every enchanting inch of her body. To drown in her heat, succumb to her charms. Surrender to the driving need to have her.
Braden rose, his control slipping through his fingers with every moment. He sat on the stool Jean had been sitting on as she tended to Colin.
He didn’t know how long he sat wiping Colin’s fevered brow before Keith came in. His friend furrowed his brow as he saw Braden.
“What are you doing here?”
“Allowing her to rest,” Braden answered. He motioned to Jean on the blanket.
Keith grumbled as he saw Jean there. “You should have called me.”
“I’ve been thinking about gaining access to the castle.”
“Aye, I knew you would be.”
Braden licked his lips and dropped the cloth in the bowl of water. MacAlister castle had been his home from the moment he was brought into the world. He knew every crack and crevice there was. The problem was – so did Niall.
“If we’re going to succeed, there is only one way to get inside.”
Keith’s hazel eyes narrowed. “The secret passages?”
“Nay. Niall knows of them.”
“Through the postern door of the castle wall?”
Braden shook his head. “Niall will keep that well guarded.”
“I’m no’ going to like your idea am I?” Keith asked as he crossed his arms over his barrel chest and flattened his lips.
“Nay, you aren’t. We are going to walk through the gates.”
Keith’s mouth gaped open as his arms fell limply to his sides. “Did you get hit in the head during the battle, Braden? It’s the only thing I can think of as to why you would come up with such a daft plan.”
“I’ve no’ been hit,” Braden said as he tried to hide his smile. “If you listen to my plan, you’ll see how it’ll work.”
“What I see is that you’ll be taken. Everyone at the castle knows your face.”
Braden lifted a shoulder as he shrugged. “No. By the time I get done they willna.”
“You know I’d follow you into Hell itself.”
“Unfortunately, my friend, that’s exactly where we’ll be heading.”
Keith nodded. “When do you want to execute this plan of yours?”
“I’d prefer to go tonight, but I need to wait and hear from the lairds to see how many men we can count on.”
“What do you need me to do?”
Braden grinned. “Care to visit the village?”
Jean rolled onto her back and stretched. There was a crick in her neck that was going to bother her for days. She frowned and tried to think what could have caused it. Then, she remembered.
Colin.
Her eyes flew open. The sound of muffled voices drifted to her. She concentrated, trying to determine each word. She could hear Braden’s voice, his timbre comforting her in ways she wasn’t ready to understand. He was speaking of plans to invade MacAlister castle.
And then Braden walked into the tent towards her. Jean sat up, her gaze clashing with his own.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked.
“Not long enough.”
Jean climbed to her feet and moved to Colin. She put her hand on his forehead and blinked. “When did his fever break?”
“A few hours ago,” Braden said. “I didna wish to wake you.”
She didn’t remember falling asleep, much less lying down. Jean was glad that Colin’s fever had broken, but that meant there was no need for her in the camp now. Braden would send her home.
Unless she could find a reason to stay.
“I canna thank you enough for tending to Colin,” Braden said. He rubbed his hand along his whiskered jaw and looked away. “I suppose I need to send you back to your father.”
“I’d rather stay.”
The words were out of Jean’s mouth before she could be ashamed at what she was saying.
“Every moment you stay here puts your life in danger.”
“It doesn’t matter where I am. If Niall wishes to do me harm, he will.”
“Your father can protect you.”
Jean took a deep breath and folded her hands at her waist. “Niall used a ruse to draw my father and his best men from our keep – he slaughtered dozens of our sheep and left the tartan of our neighbour as blame. Once my father and his men had left to question the neighbour, Niall attacked. The men left on guard were powerless when Niall to threatened to kill a child in order to get
inside the keep.”
Braden cursed and put his hands on his hips. He shook his head.
“Whatever you are planning to do to Niall, I want to help. I’m not a warrior and I have little skill with a blade, but there are other things I can do. I can tend to wounds, cook meals, or anything else you would ask of me.”
Braden stared at her for several long moments. “Why? Why would you risk your life?”
“Why would you risk yours? This is my land as well. He has come to my clan, harmed my people. Let me help.”
“I shouldna allow it.”
Jean smiled and silently rejoiced. “But you will.”
“If anything happens to you, your father will never forgive me.”
“Nothing will happen to me,” she promised.
Four
Braden knew he was a fool. He told himself he could keep Jean safer than her father could, but he knew it for the lie it was. He just couldn’t let her go.
He’d been wracking his mind for a reason to keep her in his camp. Braden had never expected Jean to come up with a solution herself. But that’s what she’d done.
“I’ve already received a missive from your father,” Braden said. “He is gathering his men and riding to the camp on the morrow.”
“Did you doubt he would aid you?” Jean asked.
“Nay. He’s an honourable man. He told me I could count on him.”
“Will you tell me the plan?”
Braden hesitated, not because he didn’t trust her, but because it was imperative all were surprised.
Before he could answer, Colin groaned. Braden and Jean bent over him. Colin’s eyes cracked open as he swallowed several times.
“Braden?”
“Easy, my friend.” Braden said. “You’ve been very ill.”
Jean held a cup in front of Colin. “You need to drink.”
Braden helped Colin to lift his head as Jean slowly tilted the cup to his lips. Once Colin had drunk his full Braden lowered his head.
“Are you in pain?” Jean asked him.
Colin’s lips were pinched, but he shook his fair head. “Nothing I canna handle.”
“We all know how brave you are,” Braden said. “But if Jean can give you something to help, allow her to do it. I’m going to need you.”
Colin grinned as Braden knew he would. Braden then lifted his gaze to Jean and gave her a small nod before he walked out of the tent.
He paused once outside and looked around his camp. Several years ago it had been just him, Keith, and a handful of the men that left the castle with him. He hadn’t known quite what to do when other men began showing up at his camp wanting to fight alongside him.
After Niall’s betrayal, Braden hadn’t known who to trust. Yet, in the end, he had to accept anyone willing to fight against his traitorous cousin.
As Niall’s power grew across the land, so did Braden’s army. Niall, though, was always one step ahead. Always just out of reach.
Braden walked mindlessly around the camp. Their homes didn’t do much to keep them warm in the harsh Highland winters, but the men had always made do.
It was after a few women and children, made homeless by Niall’s rampage, came to Braden looking for shelter that he knew more drastic measures had to be taken. His camp was one of men ready and waiting for battle. It wasn’t fit for any other inhabitants.
He had found places for those in need with other clans – clans large enough and powerful enough to keep these women and children hidden and safe. But that couldn’t last forever.
Braden scrubbed a hand down his face. His latest plan could well get him killed. He should already be dead. How he survived the night his father, uncle and sister died was a mystery to him.
He had been late returning to the castle after a night carousing with some friends. Braden never expected to walk into the castle to such silence.
Or to find his younger sister on the stairs with blood staining the front of her gown from a wound to her chest, and her blue eyes open and empty.
It hadn’t taken Braden long to discover his father and uncle as well. Rage unlike anything he had ever experienced filled him.
He had his sword drawn and ready to slay the murderer of his family when Keith had found him. Keith told him about Niall, how he had snuck into the castle, and how he was now on the hunt for Braden.
It went against everything Braden believed in to leave the castle, but he had to live if he was to see his family avenged. Fate had spared him, and in doing so allowed Braden to be a thorn in Niall’s side.
A thorn that hadn’t done as much damage yet as it would have liked.
Braden let his eyes wander over the camp. Men were set in small groups near their tents, talking, planning. Others were on patrol. Still others were training on foot and horseback.
He had been destined to be laird of his people, to protect his lands and clan at all costs. Braden had never thought he would be fighting to regain his lands and protect all of Scotland.
It all rested on his shoulders now. Come what may, he would not – could not – fail.
Jean let Rory usher her out of Colin’s tent. She should still be tending him, but Rory had wanted some time alone with her patient.
She bit her lip as she walked among the many tents. Besides herself, she saw only three other women. Two were bent with age, their white hair pulled away from their faces. They sat together readying food for the next meal.
The other woman was older than Jean, but still young enough to catch the eyes of the men. Mary, her name was. Clearly, Mary was there for their enjoyment.
Jean wondered if the woman had visited Braden. Then she immediately questioned why she should even care.
She watched everyone finishing their morning meal. Her stomach rumbled, but there was more on her mind than food. She didn’t know how long she would be in Braden’s camp. Somehow she had convinced him to allow her to stay, but that could be cut short at any time.
Despite the danger she was in, she wanted to remain there. She wanted to help Braden in his fight to topple Niall.
Jean came to a halt as her gaze fell upon Braden. His saffron shirt was thrown over his shoulder and water dripped from the ends of his hair after a bath in the nearby stream.
His striking sapphire eyes held her transfixed. Riveted. Spellbound.
The camp fell away, leaving only the two of them. Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. Her blood heated and rushed though her body.
When he took a step to her, Jean’s stomach dropped to her feet.
Someone called Braden’s name, breaking the trance that had held them. He turned away from her. Was that regret she saw in his face? Jean squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to dwell on her disappointment.
She knew that whatever drew her and Braden together was special, a bond that couldn’t be ignored. If only they could have the time to explore it further.
It was just another reason for her to despise Niall. If he hadn’t come, there would be no need for Braden to lead an army.
And you might never have known him at all.
There was no getting around that fact. Jean took a deep breath and walked to the stream at the back of the camp to prepare for the day.
She had just knelt by the water’s edge and splashed the cold liquid on her face when she heard her name. Jean looked over her shoulder to see one of Braden’s men.
“Braden would like to see you.”
Jean nodded and stood. When she reached Braden’s tent, two more men stood outside. One leaned down and lifted the flap for her to enter.
She ducked inside. Braden stood facing her, his hands behind his back. “You wished to see me?”
“You offered your services to help,” Braden said.
“I did.”
Braden glanced at Keith. “How are you with a needle?”
Jean blinked. She had imagined being asked many different things in order to help Braden but sewing hadn’t been one of them. “You wish me to sew?”
&n
bsp; “I do. I need cloaks and other garments made as quickly as you can. You will have help. Doona worry about the quality. The items need to appear poorly done.”
Jean took the material dumped into her arms by Keith and looked at the coarse material. “I gather you willna be wearing your kilts.”
“The less you know the better, lass,” Keith said softly.
Jean raised her gaze to Braden, but he was bent over documents, his hands braced on the table. “How many cloaks and garments do I need to make?”
“As many as you can by nightfall,” Keith answered.
“Nightfall?” she repeated, not hiding her shock.
“Whatever you can do will be enough.”
Jean nodded and left the tent. If she was going to be of any help, she needed to get busy.
Braden let out a breath once Jean was gone. He knew she wanted to know the details of his strategy. And he wanted to tell her.
Yet he couldn’t.
Somehow, Niall had learned of Braden’s plan yesterday. This could only mean there was a spy in the camp. Braden had no way of knowing who it could be. His remedy was to confide only in those that he trusted completely – Rory and Keith.
The others would only know what they were to do, not how it all connected. Unfortunately, Jean also had to be kept in the dark.
Braden knew in his gut he could trust her. He had seen the fear in her eyes when she was Niall’s captive. That kind of terror couldn’t be faked.
Even her father, and the other lairds coming to aid Braden, wouldn’t be told everything. Braden would send them to the location where they would wait for his signal to attack. They wouldn’t know anything about Braden infiltrating the castle or anything about his intentions for Niall.
This was Braden’s last chance to end Niall’s evil reign. If he couldn’t, if he failed …
He didn’t even want to think along those lines. Too many lives were at stake, too much at risk. He had to win tomorrow. For his father, his sister, his uncle and the other innocents that had got in Niall’s way for his bid for power.
Braden wanted Niall dead, but he knew that to get the justice everyone needed, the murdering tyrant had to be brought before the king – along with the “trophies” he liked to collect from his victims.
