The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(106)

Something was weighing on him. She knew him better now and had learned to decipher the nearly imperceptible signs: a slight tightening of the mouth, heaviness in the brow, and distance in his gaze.

“What is it?” she asked. “What is bothering you?”

Was it the rumors of the growing rift between Bruce and Comyn, and the looming threat of war between Scotland and England? After learning of his struggle to rebuild his clan from the ashes of destruction, she understood his reasons for wanting to avoid the war and maintain his neutrality.

He smiled and shook his head, her clue that he had no intention of telling her. She fought back the wave of disappointment. It wasn’t just the lack of trust—or that he’d confided in others—but the fear that he still saw her as a fragile plaything who needed to be cosseted and protected.

It will take time, she reminded herself. And they had a lifetime.

“Just something I’ve been putting off.” He turned to meet her gaze. “I might not be back for the rest of the week.”

This time she couldn’t prevent the disappointment, though she did her best to hide it. She knew she should be grateful for the weeks they’d had together, but it wasn’t enough. She’d become greedy. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted.

She didn’t ask him where he was going, not wanting to dull her mood any further when he refused to tell her.

But all of a sudden a possibility struck her. Dear God, was this the day she’d feared? The day he would sail off to war?

Christina’s perceptiveness about his mood no longer surprised him, though it bothered him how easily she could read him. Something was bothering him. He could no longer put off MacDonald’s orders.

Unfortunately, he could also read her and knew that his reticence was hurting her. Their carefully constructed compromise was foundering. As much as she pretended to understand why he could not explain what he was doing, the closer they became, the bigger the hole grew between them.

What surprised him the most was that he actually wanted to tell her. For years he’d kept everything bottled up inside. Loosening the top had made years of built-up pressure ready to explode. Probably, he never should have made an exception. But he couldn’t deny that talking seemed to help clear his head.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and drew her feet up, wrapping the bedsheet around her knees. “Have you found out who was responsible for the attack?” she asked evenly.

Tor wasn’t fooled by the nonchalant question; he knew what was behind it. She no longer asked him where he was going, but that didn’t mean she had stopped wanting to know.

His mouth fell in a hard line. “Nay.”

MacSorley and MacRuairi had returned a few days after giving chase, severely undermanned against four warships they had followed at a distance, waiting until one of the galleys had fallen back from the rest. They’d taken the single galley easily, but not even MacRuairi’s considerable talents at extracting information had revealed the name of the man who’d hired them.

“Not yet,” he amended. “But I will. Once I find the leak—”

He stopped, feeling as if he’d been poleaxed. He’d never made a slip like that in his life. Maybe she wouldn’t notice. Right.

She gasped. “You think there is a spy?”

“It seems probable,” he replied slowly, furious with himself. “The attacks have all been when I was—or was supposed to be—away. Too great of a coincidence to be left to chance.”

“Do you know who the spy is?”

“Nay, not yet. It could be anyone. Anyone,” he repeated.

“When I leave the castle is not exactly a secret. But my men are watching for anything suspicious, and precautions are being taken.” All messages were being screened and anything suspicious brought to him. They were watching the guardsmen—the newer recruits in particular—and the household staff, including the clerk and Rhuairi. Although after how the clerk had protected Christina, his initial suspicions seemed unfounded.

He could almost see her mind working. Perhaps the slip had been for the best, he told himself. Drawing the asp out had to be done with care so as to not make him run, and it could be dangerous. She needed to be on guard. “Only a few of my closest guardsmen know about this, Christina. I trust I do not need to impart upon you the seriousness—or the potential danger—of the situation. I hope I have not misplaced my trust in you.”

She shook her heard violently. “Of course not.” She smiled. “Thank you for telling me.” She tilted her head. “Is that why you are going away?”

“Partly. My men will be watching the castle for anything unusual. Although I doubt they will try anything again so soon after the last attack. But I don’t want you to leave the castle while I’m gone—and remember your promise.”

He didn’t need to explain to her to stay out of his business. “I will be bored,” she complained.

He tried not to smile at her piqued expression. “I thought you were working on a new banner for the Hall.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know very well that it’s a mess. I’m horrible with a needle.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure you will find something to occupy your time.”

“If you hadn’t sent your brother and his bride off into exile, I would have someone to talk to.”