“When did this begin?” Blair brushed a lock of hair back from Midred’s face. “She seemed fine earlier.”
“Here in our tent.” Adlin didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Whilst we were talking.”
“Talking, was it?” Blair said. He did not miss the knowing look the women tossed each other.
“Och,” Adlin muttered, never able to get much past these two. “Ye bloody well know ‘twas more than talking.”
“How much more?” Aðísla asked. When he frowned at her, she gave him an exasperated look. “We both know that the level of intimacy between a Broun and MacLomain can make all the difference. Were you two...”
“Nay, lass,” Adlin cut her off. “We were not lying together.”
But they might have. He bloody well wished they could have.
“Hmm.” Aðísla frowned. “So the ring started giving her trouble as you merely kissed?”
“Aye.” He nodded. “And ‘twas not the first time we’ve kissed if that’s your next question.”
“But it is the first time you have kissed since the ring became undecided, yes?” Aðísla inquired.
“Well, aye, but what difference does that make?”
“It might make all the difference,” she replied, “if there is some sort of spell cast on the ring that repels anyone that is not her one true love.”
Adlin didn’t like the sound of that. “But I am her one true love.”
“Be that as it may,” Aðísla conceded. “Right now it seems the ring disagrees so if I were you I would watch how intimate you are with Milly until we figure this out.”
When Adlin shook his head, displeased with that assessment, Blair offered her opinion as well. “She’s right, Cousin. Ye cannae risk her life. And ‘tis not in yer nature to put another in harm’s way for mere lust, aye?”
There was nothing mere about lust when it came to Mildred. Adlin grumbled under his breath as he continued pressing the cool cloth against her face. The truth was they were right.
“She seems to be improved.” Aðísla pressed her thumb against Mildred’s third eye again, went still then soon nodded. “Whatever haunted her has passed. She has won her battle. Now she should rest.”
Adlin nodded his thanks as they left, then lay down beside Mildred, and covered them both with a fur. He tried to rest, but it didn’t come easily as he sifted through all possible scenarios. As he tried to come to terms with the fact he wasn’t powerful enough to protect her. Not yet. Not ever possibly if they didn’t find love as they should. Something he had assumed would happen so very easily. Though he drifted off for a short time, it wasn’t long. Not when she could become infected again.
When Mildred awoke in the morning, he was watching her. Despite what she had gone through, she looked lovely as her drowsy eyes focused on him and a soft smile came to her lips. For a split second, as their eyes held, he swore she remembered him. That she recalled the many mornings she would awaken to him admiring her in their later years.
“Good morn, lass,” he said softly. “How did you sleep?”
She inhaled deeply and stretched, whispering. “Good, thank you...” Then she hesitated as it seemed she started to remember. “What happened, Adlin?” Her eyes went to her ring. “The last thing I recall was walking back from the stream after this burned me...”
“Aye.” He explained what had happened while he helped her up, leaving out the part about black magic. “’Twas most alarming but you seem to have come through it just fine.”
Mildred said nothing to that, but he could see the worry in her eyes. More so, the frustration. If he was not mistaken, she was reading between the lines. Soon enough, she proved him correct. “There’s more to this, isn’t there?” She shook her head as their eyes held. “I remember snippets of dreams. They had to be dreams, right?”
Though tempted to assure her they were, what if his coddling caused her more harm? When it came to magic, it was best to know as much as possible so if for no other reason in this day and age, you could mask it from others.
“I dinnae know, lass.” Though he did not want to, he ended up sharing what happened. “Whatever it was you fought it, Milly and you won.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed, before murmuring, “I did, didn’t I?”
He held her shoulders lightly and nodded. “Aye, do you remember it then?”
“I remember a tall, gaunt man with unpredictable eyes.” She swallowed. “He was surrounded by an army that spoke a strange sort of English...but it was English. He was British...they all were except a few. Somehow I understood them.”
It sounded like she had been in the enemy’s camp.
The enemy they knew about that is.
“He was talking about where they would attack.” She frowned. “And I don’t think it’s going to be Stirling Bridge.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s going to be where it’s supposed to be.”
Adlin narrowed his eyes as he considered history. As he thought about what might be happening at this very moment. “Was the man dark haired? The sort that seems to possess wiry strength?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “He was.”
“’Twas likely the Earl of Surrey you witnessed then.” Adlin rolled their fur. “We’ll tell Wallace and Moray of this to make what they will of it.”
Mildred nodded and considered him. “That’s not all I remember.”
Adlin didn’t like the look in her eyes. “What is it, lass?”
“They’ve taken prisoners,” she said. “Prisoners they somehow mean to use as bait.”
He had not told her about the other woman Aðísla had seen. He could only pray she hadn’t seen one of her friends because there could be no worse fate for a lass than to be taken by an English army. No worse fate for just about anyone. “Did you see the prisoners in your dream, then?”
“No, but I heard them talking about one of them...what they had already done to him...” Her pained eyes met his. “They claimed they caught the largest Scotsman alive and had already shrunk him down some.”
Chapter Nine
MILLY KNEW BY the look on Adlin’s face that he feared for his cousin’s life.
“Laird MacLeod didn’t come back last night, did he?” she said softly because she did not doubt for a second that’s who the English had to be talking about.
Adlin only shook his head as they exited the tent and headed for his family, who sat around a fire just where she had left them. Or so it almost seemed. All stood as they approached, their breath hitting the chilly air in foggy puffs as they looked from Adlin to Milly.
“What is it?” Blair’s eyes were alarmed, almost as if she sensed something. “Milly was able to tell you more about what happened last eve, wasn’t she?”
“Aye,” Adlin said. “Though there is no way to confirm it, we believe the enemy camp has Bryce.”
“I do not believe it.” Aðísla shook her head as she looked Milly over. Based on the concern in her eyes, she was making sure she was all right. “He is dragon therefore Viking.”
Milly didn’t blame her for thinking otherwise. She might not entirely believe the dragon part, but she had never seen a larger, more intimidating man than Laird MacLeod. It was hard to imagine him becoming anyone’s prisoner let alone being taken to begin with.
“I believe Milly saw what she saw,” Adlin stated. “Which means I intend to find a way to save him.”
“As you also steer Wallace in the right direction to save Scotland,” Conall said dryly, his eyes never leaving Milly. “Because I suspect our lass has more to share, aye?”
Milly frowned at Conall. How could he possibly know that?
“No offense but I’m nobody’s lass,” she muttered. “But yes, there’s more...” So she shared what she knew about the Earl of Surrey’s plans. “My impression is that they’re going to try to negotiate and stall as they plan another route of attack altogether.”
“That is my thought as well, lass,” came a deep, amused voice before Andrew Moray appeared th
rough the morning fog, his intense eyes locked on her. “Yet I wonder how ye came to all these astute conclusions without the knowledge of a seasoned warrior, or even the mind of a strategist.”
Where she found William Wallace handsome, intelligent and charming, Moray came across another way altogether. While his looks were appealing enough, it was his cutting intellect that she supposed would draw a woman’s eye and put most men on edge. While most of twenty-first century America tended to think Wallace was the man in charge thanks to Hollywood cinematics, she knew better. Andrew de Moray was the real mastermind. The man behind the scenes always watching and waiting. Planning. The all-seeing eye.
“My apologies for the blade yesterday, lass,” he said softly as he stopped in front of her, lowered his head then met her eyes again. “But ye seem no worse off for it. A true survivor if I ever did see one.”
“Some might argue a survivor has the mind of a natural born strategist,” she pointed out, not about to be intimidated by him and certainly not kowtowed.
“Aye,” he agreed. The corner of his mouth turned up ever-so-slightly. “Yet I sense there’s more to ye, lass. Something,” he fingered the end of a tendril of her hair, “far more interesting than yer unusual accent and uncanny knowledge of our enemy.”
She felt more than saw Adlin tense and shift his hand closer to his blade.
“Och, Laird MacLomain has his hand on his dagger,” William boomed, grinning as he entered their small circle. “Which means ye must have laid eyes on his lass again, Moray.”
“I’ve laid eyes on her right enough,” Moray acknowledged before he nodded again at Milly then turned his attention to Adlin. “I insist ye and yer lass join me in my tent.” His eyes went to William’s and they exchanged a look before Wallace’s regard turned their way. For a minute she thought he was going to hold out his elbow to her but instead gestured that they follow.
“Moray doesnae want William pursuing you,” Adlin explained softly as they followed. “Not right now...not quite yet.”
She frowned at him. What did that mean?
“I’m sure by now, Moray’s caught wind of the ring’s gem and the possible connection betwixt you and Wallace,” Adlin murmured as he put a hand to the small of her back and steered her through the camp. “’Twould not only be unwise because of my reputation but because Moray is a man of war. A true leader of warriors. Which means he knows verra well the effect a lass could have on his comrade in arms. Because even a man the likes of Wallace is capable of stumbling when it comes to his heart. Of making mistakes that could cost them this battle. This verra war.”
While Milly understood the concept, she found it a little hard to believe that she could have that profound an influence.
“Then you underestimate your beauty and intelligence,” whispered through her mind.
Adlin? When she glanced his way, he only winked. So it had been him. But of course it had been based on the sudden warmth of her skin. Or was that because of the feel of his hand against her back?
Milly licked her lips as thoughts of what had nearly happened last night came to mind. She knew he had not expected her to straddle him or to be so aggressive but she couldn’t help herself. He had felt so amazing, so familiar, and she wanted more. Far more. She wanted to feel what she sensed was just out of reach. Something she knew she had felt before and had blown her mind.
“Welcome again.” William nodded at them both as they joined him and Andrew in another large tent. Unlike Wallace’s there were no maps or much of anything except a cot, a few chairs, and a small table. Somehow she knew based on its minimalist décor that it was Moray’s.
“I hear ye’ve much to share, Milly.” William rested his hands on the back of a chair and gestured at another. “Please, sit and tell me what ye’ve learned, aye? Both of ye.”
While she knew neither Moray nor Wallace would hurt them, there was no missing the hardness in their eyes. These men might think highly of Adlin and respect Milly enough, but they put their country first. That meant she was not going anywhere until she was forthright about any information that might help them defeat the English.
Thankfully, Adlin took the matter out of her hands when he led out and shared far more than she expected. At least in front of Moray. “So there ye have it,” Adlin said in conclusion. “Milly is from the far future and me, the more immediate future, sent to aid ye in this battle. Sent to make sure Scotland sees victory and nothing else.”
Where William lounged back in a chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs stretched out in front of him, completely at ease, Andrew was the opposite. He stood with his legs braced and his hands clasped behind his back as he listened closely to everything Adlin had to say.
Milly didn’t miss that Adlin left out all mention of Bryce or the fact he intended to rescue him. It also seemed Andrew had not heard that tidbit upon his initial arrival.
“So what make ye of this, Moray?” William contemplated Milly and Adlin while he spoke to his friend. “Did ye see proof of this as ye explored?”
“Aye,” Moray said softly. “Enough to know Adlin and his kin are either helping us or helping the enemy.”
“Och, man, this is Adlin MacLomain.” William frowned at his comrade. “If I know nothing else, ‘tis that he would die for this country as would his kin.”
“Aye, so it has been said,” Andrew concurred, his keen eyes locked on Adlin. “But it has also been said they practice dark magic. That they are against the church and see only to their own welfare.”
Adlin’s eyes never left Andrew’s. “Dark magic? Nay. Magic? Aye.”
She was surprised how hard Adlin could look as his gaze remained unwavering, his voice almost disgusted. Or was that just a tone he cultivated to rile? Because somehow she suspected it might be.
“If ye’ve the mind to question my devotion to our country, Moray,” Adlin continued, “then mayhap yer not nearly the lad I thought ye were.” His brow raised a scant fraction. “Mayhap ye’ve no place going up against the likes of what yer facing right now.”
Andrew’s lips curled up, but his gaze stayed hard. “I have heard of ye, Adlin MacLomain and will admit I was hoping we might see ye, but unlike most, I have no intention of respecting ye until I’ve reason to.” He cocked his head. “In fact, I have no intention of trusting ye until ye’ve earned it.”
Tension lay like a thick blanket as Adlin and Andrew eyed one other. What were the odds she would be with three infamous men yet the man she had never heard of almost seemed more powerful than the other two? Because Adlin appeared infinitely more powerful as his pale blue eyes bore into Moray’s. He seemed to weigh, perceive and over-analyze every little moment almost more intensely than Andrew himself did.
The only one who seemed to be able to cut through the intensity was William, as his eyes went slowly between the men before softening on her. “Would ye care to take a walk whilst these two work through things, lassie?”
It seemed Adlin was back to being quite sure of himself when it came to her because he nodded his approval at the same time as Andrew. Well then, there you go. And truthfully? Nothing sounded better than getting the hell out of this tent.
Yet as she and William left, she felt a smidge unsure. Almost as if she belonged by Adlin’s side. That she should stand by him whether he asked her to or not.
“We willnae travel far,” William assured as he redirected her away from the main camp toward the same stream Adlin had brought her to the night before. “Despite what ye might think, no matter what that gem of yers does or how bonnie I find ye, I wouldnae go against Adlin if he’s taken a likin’ to ye, lass.”
When her eyes met his in surprise, she knew he was being truthful. “That’s good of you.”
“Och, it cannae be any other way unless yer so inclined,” he said. “Adlin, Grant, all of them did much for me in my youth and I willnae forget it nor will I repay it with anything but what it deserves.”
Milly was not sure what to say to that so mer
ely nodded. While she might have thought the conversation inside was surreal enough, this was even stranger. William Wallace was telling her he was interested but would not pursue her if Adlin wasn’t okay with it. Better yet, if she wasn’t. It said a lot not only about William but Adlin. About the caliber of men she was lucky to have met when she traveled back in time.
‘Traveled back in time,’ she nearly whispered in awe but bit her tongue. It was still hard to believe, hard to accept, yet she did, as readily as everything else coming her way. Almost as if she were meant to be here, as if she somehow knew this was coming. But then if she had spent time with Adlin as a child in that attic, she very well might have.
“Can I be honest with you, William?” she asked as they stopped beside a horse she assumed was his based on the way he ran his hand down its mane with affection.
“I would prefer it, lass.”
“Good.” Milly’s eyes fell to her hand. “I’m not a fan of anything this ring has been doing lately.” Her eyes met his. “Outside of allowing me to meet men like you and Adlin...” Then she said with added emphasis, so he took her meaning, “Especially Adlin.”
“Ah,” he murmured as his eyes stayed with hers. “So ye’ve affection for him then, aye?”
“I have something for him,” she conceded. “Though I’m not entirely sure what it is yet.”
“I’d say based on the pink staining yer cheeks when ye speak of him yer more sure than ye realize.” Though she didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, the warmth in his gaze as he looked at her was genuine. “If nothing else can be said about Adlin MacLomain, ‘tis that he is a good man and known to love his lasses as thoroughly as he does Scotland.”
Milly tried not to frown. “His lasses?”
Like there had been so many.
“Aye, did ye not know he was once immortal and rumored to have been with quite a few...”
“I’ve heard,” she interrupted before he could innocently drive her away from Adlin. “He’s quite loved.”
Sworn to a Highland Laird Page 12
