She wished she had. “He’s told me he wants nothing tae do with me.”
Garia smoothed her hand over Breta’s braid. “And ye are going tae let him get away with that? Tell me, Sister, do ye care for him?”
Did she care for Will? Breta didn’t know. It felt like it was too soon to have any feelings for him, but him walking away from her tonight had nearly torn her poor heart in two. Was that caring?
Was that love?
“I dinnae know.”
“Either ye know or ye dinnae,” her sister said. “Choose one.”
“Fine...I care for him. But ’tis not enough,” she bit out, lifting her head.
Garia wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “’Tis always enough. Take mah relationship with Trevor. He pushed me away more times than I care tae admit.” She chuckled. “I had tae force him tae admit that he loved me. Imagine that, me forcing a warrior tae tell me his feelings!”
It was hard to believe now. Breta had seen the way Trevor had looked at her sister, the sneaky glances they gave each other when they thought no one was looking. They were mates, given to each other by the gods. They were meant to be together. Weren’t they?
“Do ye want tae be happy?” Garia asked. “Do ye want tae have a passel of bairns and a home full of love?”
Heaven help her, she did. “Aye,” she croaked out. “I do.”
Garia’s expression was soft. “Then ye must force him tae admit he cares for ye, Breta. That’s the first step tae securing the future ye want.”
Breta thought about her sister’s words as she and her father made their way back to camp and to his tent. Was that truly what she wanted with Will? She barely knew him, yet she felt like she had known him all her life. Never before had anyone affected her so.
As she lay on the comfortable furs that her father had fetched for her, Breta stared into the dark, knowing somewhere outside her tent, Will lurked, ensuring their safety. It would be easy for her to go out right now and hunt him down, confront him about his feelings for her.
But what if he didn’t have any? What if what he told her was the truth? Breta would be mortified.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. She would hatch a plan that would protect her heart in the end, though she was afraid that her heart was already lost to the hardened warrior who didn’t want her.
That night, Breta dreamed.
Breta walked through the high grass, letting the tops brush her outstretched hands as she did so. It was a lovely summer day, the warmth of the sun on her skin making her want to throw off her dress and run through the field clad in only her shift.
It would be too shocking, though. Besides, she had something else pressing to get to.
Her steps quickened as she moved through the field, spying the person in question not far from her. He was wearing his warrior garb, from his breeks to his white tunic, his sword strapped between his shoulder blades.
Even the hard expression on his face couldn’t scare Breta away. She knew something that no one else knew.
She knew he loved her.
Finally, she reached his side and laid her hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her palm.
“Ye finally made it,” he stated, his eyes alight with laughter.
“I did have tae walk across a field tae get here,” she murmured, reveling in the warmth of his body against hers. He wasn’t touching her, but she could already feel his hands on her body, caressing her bare skin under the sun.
“I’ve been waiting a long time,” he said softly, reaching up to cup her cheek. “A long time, Breta.”
Breta met his gaze and her lips parted, already anticipating the kiss he was going to deliver. “Well, ye dinnae have tae wait any longer then, Will.”
“Nay,” he said, leaning down. “I dinnae.”
Breta gasped as she awoke, her heart hammering in her chest. Her dream had felt so real, the love that had been radiating from Will saturating into her own body. In that dream, he had loved her.
What if he had been waiting all this time for someone to love him? Breta pushed her hair away from her face and threw back a few of the furs, her body suddenly heated. She knew nothing about his life or even where he came from, but he was a warrior. And in her dealings with warriors, they tended not to have love in their life.
Trevor hadn’t. Neither had Cameron if the stories about the McDougal laird and her warrior were true.
So where did that leave Will? Was that the real reason he was pushing her away? She could love him. She could give him something more than just the warrior life he currently had.
She could give him a future.
Breta swallowed. In order for her to do so, he would have to admit that he wanted those things. Well, tomorrow she would confront him at her first opportunity. She wanted Will in her life, and her sister was right. She needed to fight for what she wanted.
For if she didn’t, Breta knew she would never truly be happy. She never would find that great love.
And that was what she wanted most of all.
16
“I dinnae know how they got there. Maybe they are additional ale barrels.”
Will eyed the barrels, half listening to his warrior. He had been on his way to the dais, where Katherine and Cameron would oversee the evening entertainment, when he had spied the random barrel sitting on the perimeter of the camp. “Maybe someone could only get it this far,” he muttered. “I dinnae have time tae investigate. Walk through the camp and see if ye spy anymore.”
“Aye,” the warrior responded before walking off to do what Will asked. Will took one more look at the barrel before continuing his trek through the camp. The music was already starting up.
Bloody hell, I am late.
Not that he truly wished to be there tonight. The only thing that he could hope for would be that Breta’s father would see the safety concerns for his daughter and keep her in her tent for the night. After their harsh words at the keep, he didn’t want to face Breta.
He had already done enough lying to her to make him feel like a bastard.
But as Will drew close to the temporary dance floor that had been erected in the midst of camp, his eyes found her immediately. She was already dancing with another Scot who was wearing her clan’s colors. Though Will knew it was likely one of her warriors, the jealousy made its way into his heart anyway. The warrior had his hand on her hip, nearly intimate in nature, and Will balled his fists at his sides, doing everything he could to stop himself from marching into the fray and making a complete fool of himself.
Instead, he skirted around the dance floor to the dais, where his laird stood with her husband, her toe tapping to the music. “’Tis aboot time,” Cameron commented, clasping his hands behind his back. “Where have ye been?”
“Inspecting the camp and its safety,” he fired back, not in the mood. After seeing Breta, his mood was now considerably darker, and his patience far less. “’Tis mah job.”
Cameron leaned close. “Yer job is tae find out why yer lass is dancing with everyone but ye.”
“I dinnae care. She is not mah lass.”
“So ye say,” Cameron stated. “Then why did ye seek her out the moment ye rounded that tent over there? Face it, mah friend. Ye have lost yer heart.”
Will clenched his jaw tightly. He had not lost his heart. He had lost everything to her: heart, soul, dreams. She had everything. But he couldn’t be with her.
He didn’t want to be.
“Go,” Cameron was saying as the music swelled. “Go tell her how ye feel and be done with it.”
Knowing that the meddling former warrior wasn’t going to be satisfied until he did, Will walked onto the dance floor just as Breta curtsied to her partner and turned to leave, drawing up short as she saw him.
“W-Will.”
He gave her a short bow before holding out his hand. “Breta. Dance with me.”
She swallowed, eyeing his hand. “Why should I?”
Why, indeed?
&n
bsp; “Because everyone is staring.”
That seemed to get her attention, and she placed her small hand in his, the connection easing Will a bit. It wasn’t going to be long before he would have to let her go again, and this time it would be for good. He couldn’t have her.
He didn’t need her.
Reaching for her waist, he placed his hands on her hips and helped her through a series of steps, ignoring the way that this felt right in his chest.
“Will,” Breta said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed from the dancing, “I need tae know something.”
“Wot?” he asked, his voice coming out harsher than he had intended.
She flinched as if he had struck her.
“I’m sorry, lass...for the tone.”
Breta pinched her lips together and they fell silent again, moving to the music but not with any joy in the steps. Will kept his hand on her hip as they moved about the dance floor, knowing that he had to say something to her to get her talking.
They needed to talk about this.
“Breta, I—”
“Do ye care for me, Will?”
Her question surprised him, and he shut his mouth, wanting to say what he truly felt. Maybe he should tell her that he cared for her, but that they couldn’t be together. He couldn’t love her like she deserved to be loved.
His only love was his warriors, the battle, the bloodshed. He had no notion to be a family man, a husband.
Yet, as he looked into Breta’s eyes, he wanted something different. He wanted to give himself something more, something that perhaps he had been missing all along.
Would it be so hard to admit?
Will steeled himself from his thoughts. No, he didn’t need her. He didn’t need anything but what he had always had in his life. He didn’t need to have her by his side.
He didn’t need love.
“Nay,” he forced out, nearly choking on the word.
Her eyes widened, and he saw the hurt reflected there, swearing to himself that he had even hurt her like this. “I cannae care for ye,” he rasped, hoping that she would understand eventually. The words he was saying to her were ripping his soul out of his body, but it was what must be done. “I am a warrior. I cannae care for anyone.”
“That’s not true,” she argued, her voice full of emotion. “Ye’re frightened. I can understand that, but don’t push me away.”
“I’m not!” he bit out. “I’m not scared. ’Tis the truth, and I am sorry that ye must hear it, but I am a warrior first. I will always be a warrior, and there is no room for anything else.”
To his surprise, she lifted her chin, her eyes full of hurt but also challenge. Will had faced thousands of enemies in his lifetime, but none were as formidable as the slight woman standing before him.
“So ye are saying ye cannae love me?” she asked.
Will barely registered the fact that they had stopped dancing, the other couples having to maneuver around them.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her off the dance floor. No one stopped them as they cut through the crowd until he could find a spot away from others.
This was hard.
“We shared one kiss,” he explained, running a hand over his hair nervously. “’Tis not enough tae know if ye can love anyone.”
His thoughts screamed lies, but he pushed them aside. He knew he could love her, and easily so, if he was looking to do that. She was like a storm that had pushed through into his life and created chaos in everything he had carefully laid out.
Breta crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Ye know I never pegged ye for a coward, yet here ye are, spewing lies in an attempt tae hide the truth. Do ye know that I...well, I guess it doesnae matter. Ye have already decided for the both of us that we aren’t meant tae be, is that correct?”
Will swallowed. Every word she said was the truth. Maybe he was a coward. “I worked mah entire life for this,” he told her instead, needing her to understand why. “I was nothing but a shite stable lad when Cameron found me and gave me tae Trevor. I fell tae the earth so many times that I lost count. These scars? They are from mah training mostly. I didnae know how tae protect mahself.” He never once blamed Trevor or the other warriors for the scars. They had taught him to defend himself, to hold a sword, but it had taken years for him to learn it all. The scars were a reminder of who he used to be and where he had come from.
Taking her face in his hands, he urged her to understand with his eyes. “I’m a warrior, lass. ’Tis all I have ever wished tae be. I dinnae have grand dreams like ye. I dinnae have any plans tae turn mah back on this position for anyone.”
“Then ye are a fool, Will,” she said angrily, wrenching herself from his grasp. “A fool! Ye could have it all! I would never want ye tae stop wot ye love, but I just cannae believe ye dinnae have room in yer heart for me!”
Her words were destroying him. He should have left her be the moment he realized who she was. He never should have kissed her.
“I’m vera sorry, lass.”
Breta’s eyes glittered with unshed tears, and Will fought the urge to comfort her. It was better this way, to go on and break her heart so she could move on. This prideful, strong lass would make any Scot a proud man, though it was going to take a special one to deal with her strong will. He hoped she didn’t settle for just any Scot, but one that could love her properly without squelching the person that had drawn him in.
“I hate ye,” she whispered as the first traitorous tear slid down her cheek. “I hate that ye are going tae throw this all away because of yer bloody pride.” She then let out a humorous laugh. “I guess that is wot I get for this. A bloody broken heart.”
“I never mean tae,” he said softly, feeling the burden on his shoulders for her anguish.
Her eyes cut to his. “Then ye should have never kissed me.”
It was a kiss that would keep his dreams warm for ages from now. Even when she walked away, he would feel the whisper of her fingers gliding over his torso, tracing each and every scar with wonder.
What am I doing?
“Breta,” he started before screams, and panicking people shook the ground, propelling him forward. His ears ringing, Will attempted to get to his feet before another person knocked him down, his body jarring against the hard ground. There were screams all around him. He winced as he felt pain on his forearm, looking down to find the skin gashed open and bleeding. Cursing, he stumbled to his feet as a new fire began farther away, the plume of it shooting straight into the sky.
It only took him a moment to realize what was happening.
They were under attack.
Will grabbed for his sword and pulled it out of his scabbard, his eyes scanning the crush of people that were trying to find a way out of the camp. There were torturous screams of those in pain—some in anguish for other reasons—but none of that mattered right now.
“Breta!” he screamed, his hearing starting to return. She had been right in front of him, right there.
Now she wasn’t.
“Will!”
Will turned to find Cameron running to him, Katherine under the protection of his arm. “It’s an attack,” Will gasped, taking in the blood on Katherine’s forehead and dress. Cameron also had blood on his tunic and cuts on his face, but nothing looked too severe yet. “Git out of here!”
“Nay,” Cameron replied, pulling out his sword. “I’m staying tae fight.”
“Nay,” Katherine cried, clinging to her husband’s tunic. “Ye cannae! I cannae lose ye!”
Cameron pressed his forehead to hers, whispering something to her that was hard to hear over the noise, and she sagged against him, sobbing. He pushed away from her and a warrior reached out to grab her.
“Take her tae the keep!” Cameron shouted to the warrior. “Ride hard and dinnae look back.”
The look on her face was devastating as she was led away from her husband. When Cameron turned to Will, he saw the same reflected in the hardened warrior’s. His thoughts immedia
tely went back to Breta, and his heart wrenched in his chest.
But he didn’t have time to think about finding her as two men charged them both. They raised their swords simultaneously to block the thrusts, the steel clashing together in sparks. Will spun on his planted foot and pushed the attacker away, palming his sword. “Ye think ye can defeat us?” he shouted, not recognizing any colors that the Scot was wearing.
“Ye will be defeated!” the other yelled, charging at him again. Will parried and met his sword, performing the slow dance that was sword fighting. With each clang of the sword, he felt it vibrate into the wounds on his arms, but Will pushed through the pain, blocking it out as he had done many times before. He didn’t know who his enemy was, but it was his purpose in life to protect all those he loved.
Love.
It seemed like a word he never understood until he met Breta.
Pushing that particular thought aside, he made quick work of his opponent before ensuring that Cameron didn’t need his help. “Feels good tae be back,” Cameron stated as he divested himself of his opponent, his blade coated with blood. “Come, let’s save our home.”
So, they did. More attackers charged them, and the two fought alongside one another, slicing their swords through their opponents with ease.
Will tried not to think about the bodies that littered the camp’s ground, glancing down to ensure it wasn’t Breta before moving on to the next. Some of the tents were on fire from, and there wasn’t an inch of the campsite that wasn’t under attack. Clans of all colors were fighting those that had come to attack them, and Will spied Trevor in the fray, stepping in at the last moment to block an attack that was coming from his blind spot.
“Thanks!” Trevor breathed heavily, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. “I need more time in the ring after this.”
Will just nodded and moved on, sending some of his warriors that were still able to form a perimeter to keep the attackers from moving on to the village. Whatever their motivation was, he didn’t want the village to suffer because of it.
He took two more attackers down, but they seemed to double with each one he killed, none of them wearing any sort of colors that he could identify the threat.
Highlander’s Phantom Lass: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 10
