His lashes lifted, his expression hard again. “I’m not going till I’ve got my rubies back.”
May you never find them, Kara thought, but that was selfish. “Mayhap they fell out of your purse down by the river.”
“Nay. They were stitched into it. Someone cut the threads and helped themselves to the treasure and stitched it back up.”
“Mayhap you did it yourself while in the grip of the fever. You were not in your right mind when we found you. We could go out and look for these stones if we took enough men to guard against a MacGory attack.”
“You said the river bordered your land. Do these MacGorys dare raid so close to your territory?”
“Aye, they are a lawless bunch, as fierce as the wolves whose hides they wear into battle. Rumor has it they were driven out of the Highlands and seek a place from which to raid and pillage. They’ve set their eyes on Edin Valley.”
“Are you strong enough to defeat them?”
Kara shook her head. “Thus far Edin’s natural defenses, the mountains and the pass, have kept them at bay, but one day that will not be enough. They grow stronger, bolder and more numerous, while we grow fewer and weaker. Too many of our men have fallen in battle.” She bit her lip to still its trembling. “I fear we will soon be a clan of women.”
Duncan grunted. “Can you not buy men to protect you?”
“With what? We are a poor clan, living simply off the land that has been our home for generations. But we will not give up without a fight. If you were to advise us...”
“Me?” He scowled. “I am through fighting other people’s wars. Besides, what could one man do against so many?”
“I do not know for certain, but you figure somehow in Edin’s future. I saw a vision in the Beltane fires this spring, and—”
“Vision.” He glared at her contemptuously. “’Tis blasphemy to even think such things.”
“Why?”
“Because it is. All things are in God’s hands.”
“I agree,” Kara said quickly. “Father Luthais and I have discussed it often. He said such things are mentioned in the Bible and read me the stories of Saint Peter and—”
“Exactly. Saints have visions. Ill kempt lasses do not.”
“Ill kempt?” Kara looked down. “My skirt and bodice are made of the finest wool our women can weave.” She spotted a small stain where her knee had ground into the mud while she tended his wound. Covering it with her hand, she went on. “My clothes are clean, as are my hands and face. How am I ill kempt?”
“I did not mean you were dirty, only untidy. Your hair flies about in a most unseemly manner instead of being confined to a braid and covered. And...and you are tanned where a woman’s skin should be pale. Why, even your nose is freckled from the sun.”
Kara self-consciously wiped at the offending spots. “Fergie teases me about them, but they don’t wash off.”
“Ladies of quality bleach them or cover them with flour.”
“Really?” The inference that she was not quality stung nearly as much as being called unkempt. “It sounds messy.”
“But ladylike.” He closed the subject by shutting his eyes.
Kara tried not to feel hurt or rejected. Duncan MacLellan was not at all the gallant savior she’d imagined. Still if they were to survive, the Gleanedins needed a champion. They needed Duncan. Somehow she had to convince him to help. “Tomorrow or the next day, we could ride out and I’ll show you Edin Valley.”
He stirred. “I’d welcome a chance to stretch my muscles.”
It was a start, she thought as he drifted off to sleep. There was no need to sit with him, for he was on the mend. Still she lingered, her eyes caressing his handsome face and strong chest as her hands longed to. How wonderful it had felt to be held by him. If only he would hold her again, in peace, not anger. If he stayed, it might happen.
Inexperienced though she was, Kara was not ignorant about what happened between men and women. She’d felt desire stir in him despite his anger. Passion was a powerful weapon, so Brighde had told her. One she might wield to keep him in Edin.
Chapter Four
The sun was just peeping up over the mountains the next morning when Duncan and Kara rode out of Edin Tower.
“Impressive, is it not?” Kara asked.
Looking back, Duncan eyed the tower. Situated in the center of a large loch, it rose from the shimmering water in a dark, smooth column of seemingly solid stone. The only way to reach it was across the narrow causeway they’d just traversed. When the drawbridge was raised, an attacking army would be forced to fashion boats or swim the loch to get at the keep. ’Twould be suicide to try, for there was not a spit of soil next to the tower on which to land, and no openings on the ground floor through which to crawl. “Most impressive,” he agreed. “To take it, a commander would need to build a bridge and—”
“Not the tower, the valley.”
Duncan followed the sweep of her hand, eyes widening as he beheld the majestic land around them. ’Twas lush and green, rolling hills bounded on all sides by the jagged mountain peaks he’d glimpsed from the outside. A strip of water meandered down the keel of the valley, reflecting back the brilliant blue of the sky. In the distance, smoke drifted upward from a cluster of tiny whitewashed huts. “It’s so...peaceful,” he whispered.
“Edin,” Kara said proudly.
Duncan wondered if it was blasphemy, then decided it could not be, for surely God’s hand had fashioned this place. “I’ve never beheld a place so beautiful and unspoiled.”
“Come,” Kara said, grinning. “I’ll show you some of my favorite places.”
“We should not stray far from the keep without an escort.”
Kara laughed, the sound as dazzling as the day. “I have wandered these hills alone from the time I could walk. We’ll come to no harm as long as we stay in the valley. Though I think you’d be more comfortable without all that metal.”
“I’m used to wearing it,” Duncan muttered. Despite her objections, he’d donned his padded gambeson and over it a full suit of chain mail, shirt and breeches. His helmet and shield were strapped behind the saddle within easy reach. “While on Crusade, we often slept in our mail.”
“That sounds most uncomfortable.” She giggled. “Especially for your bedmates.”
Duncan scowled. “’Tis not seemly to speak of such things.”
“I was only teasing. Are you always so serious?”
“Life is a serious business, mistress.”
“Aye.” She sobered, eyes focused on some distant pain. Her parents’ deaths, mayhap, or Fergus’s maiming. Then she blinked the sadness away and grinned. “Which is why a laugh from time to time is needed to keep the spirits up.”
Duncan grunted. “Are you going to show me the river that I may search for my treasure?”
“You’re a hard case, Duncan MacLellan, but aye, I’ll show you what you want, providing you can beat me to yon clump of trees.” She raced off, leaving him to follow.
Duncan tried to keep his borrowed horse to a sedate canter, but the challenging glance Kara threw over her shoulder made him reckless enough to give chase. She rode with careless abandon, and though he was the better rider, she was lighter and drew rein in the shelter of the grove a second before he did.
Sliding from the saddle, Kara bent to drink from the stream.
Duncan followed more slowly, scrutinizing the area for trouble before kneeling to sample the water. It was cool and sweet as nectar.
“’Tis the best water in the world, is it not?” She looked fresh and unspoiled as the woods around them, her face glowing with vitality, her eyes warm as the sun dappling the leaves.
“Aye,” Duncan said, his voice oddly strained. He should look away, but the droplets of water on her lips held him in thrall. What would it be like to lick them away?
She leaned forward, her mouth brushing over his before he could retreat. Cool and soft, her lips clung to his, sending liquid heat shuddering through him. Thi
s was wrong. But it felt so right. She tasted of mountain water and shy innocence, her kiss untutored yet more rousing than a courtesan’s. He couldn’t stop his mouth from molding to hers, his tongue from sliding past her lips to explore the honeyed recess within.
Gasping, she drew back. “Why did you do that?”
“You kissed me,” Duncan snapped, angered by this unprecedented loss of control. Damn, his pulse was racing, his body throbbing with a need the like of which he’d not felt...ever.
“’Twas a forfeit...for losing the race.” She regarded him with wonder. “But no one’s ever kissed me like that.”
“Humph.” Duncan wanted to stomp back to the horse and ride away. Anything to regain his sanity. But if he stood she’d get an even greater surprise. Shifting slightly to ease the pressure in his loins, he contemplated dumping water down his braies.
“That was most...thrilling.”
“It was a mistake of the worst sort and won’t happen again.”
Her smile faded. “Why?”
“Because I am promised elsewhere.”
“You have a wife?”
A betrothed. Duncan squelched the words. Janet was not yet his and might never be if he didn’t find the rubies. These Gleanedins might hold him for ransom if they knew he was nearly contracted to the daughter of a wealthy noble. He’d rather die than have Cousin Niall buy his freedom. “Nay, I cannot afford a wife.” That was true...unless he recovered his treasure.
Her smile was dazzling. “The man who weds me will not need wealth. I am Fergie’s heir. My husband will rule this valley.”
“Providing he can keep the MacGorys at bay.”
Her eyes moved to his sword. “You could, once you’re well.”
“Nay. I could not.” Having gotten his rioting body back under control, Duncan stood. “I told you—”
“That you do not fight another’s war.” She leapt to her feet, grinning again. “So I will have to make this your war. Come, we’ll ride to the pass so you can gauge our defenses.”
“I am not interested in your defenses. I want my property ret—” Once again, Duncan found himself standing still while the little whirlwind rode off. He followed. Not to see their puny defenses, but to look for his rubies.
There were fifteen small crofts on the way to the pass, Kara told him as they stopped at the first one. The farm was neat and orderly, if not very prosperous looking. A few hardy kale plants grew in the garden plot beside the hut where the family lived. The pen behind it held a pair of shaggy sheep.
“They spend the spring and summer grazing in the high pastures,” Kara explained as they dismounted before the croft. “Come autumn, the shepherds drive them down to winter over where we can watch them and feed them.”
Duncan thought of the huge herds of cattle and sheep owned by Cousin Niall’s villeins. “You’ve land enough to support vast numbers of sheep and cattle. Why do you keep so few?”
“The MacGorys have depleted most of the game in the lands outside the valley where we used to hunt. We were forced to slaughter the sheep to feed our people.”
“Did Fergus not return from hunting yesterday? How did he get into the valley without encountering the MacGorys?”
“Er, well—”
The door to the hut opened and a red-haired lass ran out, a babe in her arms. Three more bairns hurtled after her, the oldest a lad of seven or so. Their hands and faces were clean, their clothes much mended. Squealing in delight, they charged Kara.
She laughed and knelt to hug all three rowdy bairns. From somewhere, she produced apples and handed them around. As the youngsters raced off with their treats, she stood and embraced their mother. “Una, this is Duncan MacLellan.”
“’Tis pleased we are to have ye here,” said the mother, curtsying to Duncan. “We’ve need of a strong warrior to stop those MacGorys from murdering any more of our men.” Her eyes misted, and she held the babe a bit tighter. “Thanks to them, my Thorn never got to see the last bairn he gave me.”
Kara patted her shoulder. “I know it can’t ease your loss, but I’ve brought you a sack of oats and some roast venison.”
Una’s chin came up. “We need no charity.”
“You are not getting any more than your due,” Kara said briskly. “Fergie took two deer, and we divided the meat just as always. I’ve brought your share myself since I had a strong man to help with the hefting.” She looked over at Duncan. “Please unstrap that pack behind Tessa’s saddle and bring it here.”
Miffed at being relegated to the role of serf, Duncan nonetheless swallowed his irritation. Una had clearly had enough unpleasantness. He freed the bundle and laid it on the ground. Kara opened it, revealing not only the oats and a hunk of meat wrapped in oiled cloth, but cheese and a thick, woven blanket, as well. He recognized it as the one from his bed...Kara’s, actually.
“I thought you might be able to use this,” Kara said as she stood and held out the blanket.
Una touched the wool reverently. “Oh, I couldn’t.”
“’Tis an extra one, and the nights are getting colder.”
“Aye, they are.” A single tear oozed down Una’s cheek. “It’ll be a long winter, hard winter without Thom.”
Kara wrapped the blanket about Una’s thin shoulders and hugged her. “You could move into the tower.”
“Nay.” Una knuckled the tear away. “The farm was important to Thorn. He would want me to stay and make a go of it for our wee lads. I’m bringing them to the fete tonight,” she added.
Kara went still, then began refolding her pack with the same zeal she’d applied to winning the horse race. “Duncan, could you tie this down for me?”
As he accepted the bundle, he made certain his hand closed over her wrist, trapping her. “What fete?”
. Beneath his fingers, her pulse leapt then hammered like a hide drum. “Nothing of interest to you.” She slipped free and hugged Una. “We must be going. Duncan’s inspecting our defenses.”
Una gave him an adoring look. “God go with ye.”
“He seems to be ignoring me this far,” Duncan muttered. He held his tongue till they were away from the farm, then growled, “Did you not hear me say I can’t stay and help?”
“I heard, milord, but I do hope to change your mind.”
“By holding my treasure hostage?”
She regarded him levelly. “I do not have these rubies.”
“Someone does.”
“You’ve already searched my possessions and Fergie’s. Would you like to go through the rest of the tower, too?”
Duncan winced, thinking of the way he’d violated Fergus’s store of personal mementos. “You’d not offer if you thought I’d find something. You’ve likely hidden them on your person.”
“Would you like to search my person?”
Aye. “Nay. You’d not offer if—”
“Damn, but you are stubborn.”
“I’d not have survived three years in the East otherwise. And ’tis not proper for a lady to swear.”
“You do not think I’m a lady, so it matters not.” She tossed her unruly auburn curls and kneed Tessa into a brisk canter. Her back was poker straight, her slender shoulders squared beneath that ugly brown gown. Her fragility was deceptive, hiding a will of pure steel. Frankly he didn’t know what to make of her. And if there was one thing that intrigued him, it was a puzzle.
Duncan hurried after her. A familiar task. As he pulled alongside, he glanced at the empty pack bouncing behind her rounded rump. “Why did you give Una your own blanket?”
“Because she needed it more than I.”
“The oats were from your own larder, too, weren’t they?”
“What if they are?” She didn’t look at him.
“Does Fergus know you took them?”
“If I say nay, will you run and tattle to him?”
“Certainly not. I merely wondered if—”
“If I’d stolen them.” She glared at him. “I didn’t ask Fergie’s permission, bu
t he’d have granted it quick enough. Before the winter’s out he’ll likely go hungry himself so the rest of Clan Gleanedin can eat.”
Duncan’s belly cramped in sympathy. The Crusaders’ supplies had often run low, and he well remembered the fine lords squabbling among themselves for a hunk of bread. “There are not many lords who’d share with their villeins.”
“Villeins!” Kara reined in so quickly Tessa danced on the narrow road. “These are not serfs, they are my people. I would sacrifice anything—anything—to keep them safe and fed.” Her face glowed with militant passion. Those flashing eyes and pink cheeks scrambled Duncan’s insides.
“I understand,” he said hastily.
“I doubt it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Black Rolly told me all about knightly vows and Crusader pledges, but I must say I am vastly disappointed in you. You are more interested in your damn rubies than in righting wrongs and protecting the weak.”
Duncan bristled. “I am not.”
Her chin stuck out to challenge his. “Prove it, then. Stay and make certain no more Gleanedin wives are widowed by the MacGorys, no more wee bairns orphaned before they’re born.”
Trapped. Duncan raised one brow. “Do you play chess?” When she frowned and shook her head, he smiled faintly. “You’d be very good at it, I think.”
“Are you poking fun at my ignorance again?”
“Far from it.” Duncan sighed and looked around. The air bore a nip of autumn, yet was sweet and fresh. A hawk wheeled overhead in the azure sky. A symbol of the freedom Kara enjoyed. “You were incredibly fortunate to grow up in a place like this.”
“’Tis why I want to keep it safe.”
Duncan nodded. “I understand that. I went on Crusade to free the Holy Lands and prove myself.”
“Did you succeed?”
“Partly.” He told her about the treaty Richard had wrung from Saladin. “Less than we’d hoped for, but something. And my share of the plunder we took made me a rich man.”
“That was what you needed to prove? To have wealth?”
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