The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(109)

The lass appeared to have a maddening penchant for stumbling into the wrong place at the wrong time.

He swore. Loudly.

Her gaze shot to his, and he registered her shock and then the hurt. It wasn’t until he stood up and snarled, “What the hell are you doing here?” that he remembered the woman on his lap.

Chapter Twenty-three

How ironic. The man she’d been dreaming about for weeks—months—and she hadn’t even recognized him. When the muscle-bound brute had thrust Ellie into the tent, instinctively she’d done a quick scan of the room. She’d noticed the buxom blond wrapped around the grizzled warrior, but hadn’t bothered to take a closer look.

Nothing about him felt familiar. Admittedly, with the woman hanging all over him she hadn’t been able to see him that clearly, but there was something different in the way he was sitting. The relaxed, utterly at-ease posture that characterized the man she knew had been replaced by a surly indifference that exuded danger and seemed to warn not to get too close.

It wasn’t until she’d heard his voice and turned to meet the familiar piercing blue-eyed gaze that her heart did a sharp tug in her chest. He was safe. Alive. She drank him in, noticing that the changes had gone far beyond posture. He was dressed differently, clad in a black war coat and a dark plaid. His hair was long and shaggy, and he had a week’s worth of scruff on his chin. His face seemed thinner, with a lean, hungry look to him that went along with the hard, humorless glare in his icy blue eyes and the surly twist of his mouth.

Instead of the swaggering pirate with the devilish glint in his eye, he was the most terrifying-looking man in a tent full of battle-hardened warriors.

Her relief to see him hale quickly turned to hurt. Her heart pinched. The woman had been kissing him. She’d had her head buried against his neck and her hands had been gripping the hard muscles of his broad shoulders. Muscles and shoulders Ellie knew intimately and had foolishly thought of as hers.

What had she expected, him to be pining after her?

Maybe a little.

Even seeing the woman fall to the floor, obviously forgotten, did nothing to lessen her hurt.

Fearing everyone in the room must be reading her thoughts, Ellie mustered her pride, lifted her chin, and with an imperious flick of her head, turned decisively from the irate, axe-wielding, dangerous-looking Viking.

It’s over. Her heart clenched. She’d known that. Now, she’d seen it for herself.

“Please, Robert, I must speak with you. It’s important.”

“It must be,” her brother-in-law said, but Ellie could tell that he was confused—and perhaps suspicious. Robert looked to the big man who’d grabbed her as she neared the camp. “She came alone?” he asked.

The rough-looking brute nodded. “Aye, but we’re checking to make sure.”

Robert nodded and came around the table to take her hand. “Come, sister, you can tell me what has brought you here.” He looked over his shoulder and motioned to a man seated next to Erik, and then to a few others. She noticed that the first warrior was dressed similarly to Erik and appeared well-matched in impressiveness. He was tall, heavily muscled, and ruggedly handsome—though not as shockingly so as the man on Erik’s other side. There was an air of authority about the first man that made her wonder who he was. Her brother-in-law obviously relied on him.

Edward Bruce had also risen to join them, as had an older warrior and a much younger one. Almost as an afterthought, Robert looked to Erik. “You might as well come, too.” He didn’t sound very happy about it.

She could read the tension between the two men and dearly hoped she wasn’t the cause.

Ellie followed her brother-in-law out of the tent and across the makeshift camp to a large gap in the rocky mountainside, intensely aware of the seething man behind her.

Erik was obviously not happy to see her. Not that she blamed him under the circumstances, but she hadn’t expected such vitriol—not from him. Did he hate her so much?

She hadn’t meant to deceive him; she’d only wanted to see if he could care about her for herself, without the trappings and duty of her nobility.

As it was well-lit by torches, she could see that the small cave had been set aside as the royal chamber of sorts, replete with a rustic chair, writing table, and mattress. It was a far cry from a palace, but Robert seemed perfectly at ease in his rough surroundings.

She’d always admired the handsome knight who’d won her sister’s heart, but she could see that Robert had been changed by the past year. She’d half-expected to find an outlaw with the furtive, anxious look of a hunted man. Instead she’d found a formidable warrior of strength and steely determination who seemed more a king in his dusty, dirty armor than he had in his crown and kingly robes.

Robert motioned for her to take the chair, and the men made use of various boulders and rocks scattered about the cave. As far as war councils went, it was an unusual one.

She could feel the heat of Erik’s angry glare on her, and some of the glow of success she’d been basking in for getting here dimmed. Her hands twisted anxiously in her skirts. Admittedly, traipsing across the war-torn countryside pretending to be a serving-maid-turned-spy for the English wasn’t exactly the safest thing to do, but it had been necessary.

Perhaps sensing her nervousness, Robert said gently, “I hope you won’t misunderstand, sister, when I say that although I’m happy to see you, I’m most interested in why you are here, and how you managed to find me.”