Adlin tilted his head at William in acknowledgement and shrugged. “’Twill be as you wish, Wallace.”
William nodded, smiled and did the last thing Milly and evidently Adlin expected based on his grunt. He swung his chair around until he was next to Milly, pulled the maps over and though he spoke to them both, focused more on her.
“This is where we are heading. North of the River Forth.” He pointed at a location. “’Tis called Abbey Craig and will afford us a good viewpoint of John de Warenne and that traitorous bastard Sir Hugh de Cressingham.” His finger swung downward, a determined glint in his eyes. “Though Moray might come back with an alternative route, right now I’m counting on the Sassenach to be as pompous and arrogant as they’ve always been and cross here at Stirling Bridge.”
When William’s eyes met hers, and he continued it was clear he didn’t mind in the least speaking to a woman about war. She was every inch his equal if she believed herself as much which damn straight, she did.
“’Twill be a sizable garrison sent by Longshanks, but if we do it right, it can be done.” His finger stayed on the bridge. “’Tis so narrow that two mayhap three horsemen can cross side by side. We’ll let as many come over that we can take, and then attack.” His finger swept up to Abbey Craig again. “We’ll order our spearmen down and fend off a charge from the Sassenach heavy cavalry before counterattacking their infantry.”
Milly might have learned about this time period in history but had not paid attention to how the battle was executed. Not until now. Her eyes met William’s, and she felt his excitement. Exhilarated, she ignored another one of Adlin’s grunts as she considered the map and what William had shared.
“So, what?” She tapped one side of the bridge, thrilled that she was sitting in on such an important part of history. “You hope to take control of the southern side of the bridge and cut off English reinforcements from crossing?”
“Aye! Verra good.” William grinned and placed his hand over hers, more so his finger. “Right where yer pointing.”
“Those that are trapped are going to try to swim back across the river,” she remarked.
“Aye, no doubt,” William agreed. “But they’ll be caught on the low ground in the loop of the river. At least most of them.”
“True,” she conceded, eying the map. “So what of the English still to the south? The ones who never cross the bridge?”
“We’ll attack them if need be,” he said. “With any luck, with their numbers down and their spirits low, they’ll retreat.”
Adlin grunted again but said nothing.
“Ah.” She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Would ye do it differently then?” When William’s thickly lashed brown eyes met hers, she suddenly realized what he was up to.
“You’re trying to get it out of me,” she whispered. “You want to know how this battle will go.”
“Do ye blame me?” he said softly as his hand stayed over hers and he kept using his bedroom eyes to full advantage. “Would ye not do the same to protect those ye love, Milly?”
“Probably.” She pulled her hand away. “But that doesn’t make me feel any less foolish at the moment.”
When her eyes went to Adlin, he only shrugged, gave her a ‘didn’t you see this coming?’ look and took another sip of whisky.
Great. No help there.
So she turned her attention back to one of the most famous men in Scottish history. A man, as it turns out, that kept looking at her with a great deal of interest. Not the sort that said he was overly concerned about the battle, but more so how attached her and Adlin might really be.
“Och, the things ye never see coming,” Adlin muttered under his breath as he stood. “William, if ‘twould not be a bother, Mildred and I would like to take shelter soon and rest for the eve.”
She frowned at Adlin. “We would?”
“Aye.” He downed the last of his whisky then held out his hand to her while he spoke to William. “I’m sure you ken we’re weary. If you can spare a tent, I’ll do my own hunting and see Mildred is well cared for.”
William’s brows rose. “Do ye not mean ‘Milly’ then, Adlin?”
Mildred crossed her arms over her chest, ignored Adlin’s hand and gave him an ‘at least he can get my name right’ look.
Adlin’s jaw clenched, and she swore she saw a teeny, tiny vein throb in his left temple as he tried to play it cool. “Aye, Milly.” Though he seemed jovial enough, she did not miss the challenge in his eyes when they met hers. “I grow weary and must rest so that I can assist my countrymen on the morrow. Should I send Blair or Aðísla to see you safely to sleep when you’re ready?”
Milly wanted to smack him upside the head. They both knew she was not going to let him leave without her. It wasn’t that she felt unsafe with William, just she felt safer with Adlin. She would love to stay here for hours and learn as much as she could from William, maybe even enjoy the way he looked at her, but not without Adlin. He was her safety net.
The only one she trusted to get her home.
The only one she suspected knew how.
Or so she kept telling herself as she stood and smiled at William. “Thank you so much for...” she shook her head and eyed the maps, then him. “For trusting me even if you were trying to use me.”
“Och, lass, ‘tis not as bad as that.” He stood so swiftly, his height so imposing, that she nearly stumbled back had he not caught her. Milly’s mouth went dry as William’s arm came around her lower back and he again brought the back of her hand to his lips before his eyes dropped to her ring. “Might ye remember that ‘twas the gem and ye that first caught my interest, Milly. Not what ye could tell me of the future.”
“I know.” And she did. “But I have to...”
Suddenly, though he had simply rested his hand on the table, Milly felt Adlin all around her. His varied but strong emotions. His humor at her gall. His jealousy at the look of desire in William’s eyes. His anger that another man was laying a finger on her. His inner wisdom as he tried to keep things in perspective and measure out their situation in its entirety.
When wind rushed through the tent and maps scattered everywhere, she glanced over her shoulder into his eyes and saw something profound. For a flicker of a moment, his eyes shone bright blue, and she saw him. The real him. Who he was on the inside. A man she had known so well.
A blink later, however, he was gone.
Or was he?
“Might we be given some shelter then, William?” Adlin said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.
William remained cordial and if she was not mistaken, a bit flirtatious as he responded to Adlin but kept his eyes on her. “Aye, of course. I’ll see Milly well cared for...” His eyes drifted over her head to Adlin. “Both of ye that is.”
“Good then, my friend.” Adlin nodded, took her hand and pulled her out of William’s arms. “’Tis much appreciated.”
William’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before he said, “Come along then,” and strode out of the tent.
Milly narrowed her eyes when the corner of Adlin’s mouth tilted up, he winked then pulled her after him. Hell, he knew exactly what he was doing. She would bet he could anticipate and get his way every time no matter the circumstance. She almost wondered as they followed William if he hadn’t somehow manipulated the situation from the very moment they walked into William’s tent. Because wasn’t she now willingly, for her own safety, agreeing to sleep in his tent when earlier she was frustrated with him and would have felt much better with his female cousins?
“Ye should find yer kin in this area as they’ve been given tents close to me,” William said as he stopped and gestured toward a particular tent. “As we’re a traveling war party, I’ve not much to offer ye, Adlin, but ye should find at least one skin of whisky in there and a blanket or two.”
“Many thanks.” Adlin nodded and shook hands with William again. “I look forward to fighting alongside ye, Wallace.
‘Twill be a true pleasure.”
“And ‘twill be good to have ye.” William’s eyes met hers before he turned away. “Both of ye.”
Milly could not help but notice there were women floating throughout the camp now. She didn’t need to guess what they were about as one locked arms with William, offered him a sultry practiced smile and swung her hips as they walked off together.
When Adlin made a small sound of appreciation, she frowned and looked at him only to see him eying not the woman but the inside of a dark tent. “’Twill offer plenty of shelter for us both.”
“So you're that impressed by the tent, eh?” Yeah right. “It’s too dark inside to see anything.”
“Och, nay, ‘tis light enough for us wizards. But that wasnae the real reason for the sound I made.” He winked as he took her hand and led her toward a fire. “’Twas more to see if I could make you jealous too.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” she lied.
Adlin said nothing more about it, but it was clear he thought he had proven his point as he sat her down at a fire alongside his cousins. “Warm yourself, Mildred, and enjoy my kin.”
She frowned when he didn’t sit but seemed to be readying himself for something. “Where are you going?”
“To hunt.”
“Hunt?” Her eyes went to Graham who appeared to be skinning some sort of animal. “I think your cousin already did that.”
“Aye.” Adlin nodded, his eyes trained on the dark forest. “But I wish to hunt more.”
It didn’t take Milly long to figure out what was going on. “You’re angry.”
Graham’s brows perked, and Blair and Aðísla’s conversation did not quite stop but lessened as they eavesdropped. Though Conall leaned against a tree contemplating the encampment, she knew he was paying as close attention as everyone else.
Adlin didn’t bother giving Milly a response but made a come-hither motion to Aðísla, his tone and eyes as irritatingly soft as they had been with her back at his castle. “Might I use your blade, lass? Yours always serves me better than the rest.”
Milly’s eyes went between them, and she frowned. It seemed he wasn’t done trying to make her jealous. What was the deal with those two?
“It is all yours then.” Aðísla tossed him one of her blades. “Hunt well, friend.”
For some reason, she suddenly got the sense they might be playing some sort of game at her expense. As he walked away, she muttered softly, “So how am I supposed to know when he’s being serious?”
Because it was clear Adlin liked to play games.
It seemed her statement was overheard because the corner of Blair’s mouth shot up. “Och, we’ve all wondered that at one time or another.” Her eyes went to Adlin as he vanished into the darkness. “He’s my cousin, but he’s also...who he was before.” She shook her head as she wove sticks together with some sort of string. “A lad so great...”
When she trailed off, Milly said, “I know. The infamous Adlin MacLomain. The man who started this clan.”
“Och, he was a lot more than that, lass,” Graham said as he continued skinning. A process Milly did her best to avert her eyes from because it wasn’t pretty. “Adlin was so much for so many. He lived a selfless existence for well over five hundred years. He—”
“Wait,” Milly interrupted, not sure she heard right. “Did you say over five hundred years?”
“Aye,” Blair said. “Well over if rumor holds true. Conceived in Ireland and born to Scotland by the gods, Adlin MacLomain was immortal as was his sister, Iosbail.”
Milly barely breathed as she listened.
“Like Uncle Grant, Adlin was once an arch wizard,” Graham continued. “Yet he struggles now.”
Milly frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I would say that is Adlin’s business,” Aðísla kicked in as her eyes met Milly’s. “If you are so curious about him, then should you not ask him these questions?”
While she likely would have thought Adlin’s story ridiculous a mere forty-eight hours ago, now she had traveled through time and seen actual magic happen. So she did believe what was being told to her. Which, oddly enough, only made her frustration with him grow.
“I would have asked him if he had the decency to be more forthright from the beginning,” she shot back, not about to be bullied or put in her place by someone who wanted Adlin for herself. She tapped her chest in frustration, surprised by how strongly she felt considering the short amount of time she had known him. “I’m the one who was yanked back in time not once but twice!” She gestured at their surroundings. “I’m the one from a peaceful century thrown into the brink of a medieval war.” Now she was just trying to get a reaction. “If all that isn’t enough, it seems I’m not fated to be with Adlin at all, but William Wallace!”
When voices at nearby fires started to hush, she knew she had said too much.
“I didn’t mean,” she started to whisper, but the remainder of her words died off when Conall strode forward and shook his head. He might have the poster boy looks of every woman’s fantasy medieval Scotsman, but right now, there was a little something going on in his eyes she didn’t much like.
“What?” She shook her head and started to bolt, but it was too late. He snatched her up, flung her over his shoulder and started walking. The next thing she knew he plunked her down in a dark tent, put a finger to her lips then ranted at her loudly. “I thought we had an understanding, lass. Yer mine and I’m yers, aye?” He made a strange grunt that almost sounded sexual. “Aye, there ye go, my wee lassie. ‘Twas sweet ye making me jealous with William but now yer just where I need ye.”
Milly swallowed hard as she realized what he was doing. He was putting on a show for anyone listening.
“I think not, ye bloody fool,” Adlin roared. “That’s my lass, and we all know who she’s been longin’ for, aye?”
Seconds later, he ducked into the tent, flung her over his shoulder, and she was off again. For goodness sake, really? What were these numbnuts up to? She had heard the phrase, ‘crazy Scots,’ and it seemed she was witnessing it firsthand.
By the time he plunked her down in the next pitch black tent, she’d had enough and was about to say so when Adlin's hand clamped over her mouth, and he whispered, “Say nothing, lass and let this matter be settled or else.”
Or else what? Had he just threatened her life?
“Ye just bloody declared ye were fated to be with William Wallace,” he muttered under his breath before his voice grew loud enough for others to hear, his brogue so thick she barely caught a word. “Stop yer muttering, and join me now beneath the blankets where ye belong, lass.”
“Where I belong?” she hissed the minute his hand loosened.
He didn't respond but plunked her down then followed. Hell if she could see him because it was so damned dark. But she could smell him. That spicy scent that should, if she knew what was good for her, repel her. Yet she inhaled deeply and did not push him away but pulled him closer.
“Och, nay,” he murmured as he put a finger to her lips. He was so close she could feel his breath fan her cheek. Then the gentle touch of his hand on her back. Which suddenly brought her mind back to her bedroom in the colonial. How soothing he had been. How caring his touch. Though he moved away, she remained frozen and said nothing. Adlin had been there on her bed in the future. Not as a boy from her childhood dreams and not as Phillip, a magically enhanced Scotsman turned Brit.
No, he had been there and touched her as he had just done.
Milly blinked several times as a small fire flickered to life, and Adlin’s eyes met hers. “I’m sorry about that, but ‘twas necessary.” He shook his head. “’Twill do you no favors in this era to be sworn to the likes of Wallace. Not if that information ends up falling on the wrong ears.” He sighed. “As it is, we’ll be lucky if word of what you claimed doesnae travel anyway.”
She might feel like a fool for having blurted out that she might be meant for William, bu
t she was at her wit’s end. “Well, maybe if you’d stuck around and helped me understand what was going on rather than taking off like that, I might never have said it to begin with.”
Adlin clenched his jaw and eyed her before he nodded. “You’re right. ‘Twas not what I should have done, but I needed to clear my head.” He sounded remarkably sincere. “I’m sorry I didnae tell you who I had been from the moment we met.” He searched her eyes. “More than that, I’m sorry that I didnae tell you more about the man I’ve become in this life.”
“So you heard what your family said to me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And Aðísla, of course.”
“I heard enough to know that I havenae gone about this as well as I could have.” Adlin’s apologetic eyes never left hers. “I am not the man you once knew, Mildred...Milly.” His voice softened. “I am not half the man, I’m afraid.”
“What does that mean?” She frowned and shook her head. “Are you talking about what your cousin’s just told me? That you were supposedly immortal in your last life and evidently quite revered.”
“Aye, somewhat.” Adlin sighed and held out a skin. “Here. Drink if you like.”
“I don’t want distractions, just answers.” Milly took the skin but did not drink as she kept her eyes on his. “Obviously based on everything that’s happened, we’ve known each other for a long time. Or should I say you’ve known me because I don’t remember much which I suppose would be fine enough,” she kept frowning, “if I didn’t know you did know everything and you’re just keeping it from me.”
“Not everything,” he whispered, his eyes on the fire. “Not nearly.”
“Adlin,” Milly groaned, exasperated. “Just say the things that need to be said rather than being...cryptic. Tell me about your previous life.” She cocked her head. “And tell me what you think is wrong with my ring’s gem rather than stomping off to clear your head.”
Disappointed in what she soon realized was himself, Adlin’s eyes stayed on the low flames. “As a rule, I’ve never been difficult to deal with,” he said softly. “Not until you arrived it seems.” His eyes returned to hers. “The only reason I didnae tell you much about who I was in my last life was because I didnae want to overwhelm you, Milly. I didnae want to frighten you anymore than you already seemed to be when you arrived.”
Sworn to a Highland Laird Page 10
