The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(78)

He pulled her to her feet, and she was surprised to see that the water came only up to her chest.

“You can only swim in here at low tide,” he explained. “By this afternoon, the water will be up to the ceiling.”

With at least two feet of clearance above his head, she realized the cave must be over eight feet tall. It was amazing to think that the water would rise so high in a few hours.

She shivered. “I wouldn’t want to get caught in here.”

He led her over to a ledge in the rock that served as a natural bench. Circling his hands around her waist, he lifted her onto the rock, and then levered himself up after her. It was the first time he’d touched her all day and her body jumped at the contact. For a man who communicated as much with touch as he did with words, he seemed to be making an effort to keep his hands to himself.

After twisting some of the water from her hair, she tucked her feet under the edge of her wet chemise.

He raked his fingers through his hair and wiped some of the water from his face. “Are you cold?”

Her skin was prickled with goose bumps, but she was surprised to find that she wasn’t. It wasn’t exactly balmy, like the sauna, but it was at least twenty degrees warmer than outside. She shook her head. “It’s much warmer in here than it is in the water.”

“It’s the same most of the year round. I’m not really sure why.”

She noticed a slight echo to his voice and listened for any sounds from beyond the cave—the wind, the water crashing on the rock—but other than the dripping of water from the ceiling it was deathly silent. “It’s so quiet.”

“Aye, it feels like another world, doesn’t it?”

“How did you find this place?”

“I didn’t. The locals have known about it for years.”

“It’s a great hiding place. Did you come here often when you were young?”

He gave her a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye and didn’t respond.

She didn’t take the hint. “Is that why you joined Bruce? To reclaim your lands?”

He shook his head. “Do you ever give up?”

She thought about it. “No.”

He sighed. She didn’t think he was going to answer, but after a moment he said, “That was part of the reason, but it was mostly because my chief asked me to.” He gave her a sharp glance. “Don’t ask; I can’t tell you any more.”

She bit her lip, looking down at the dark pool of water. She didn’t want any more secrets between them. She had to tell him the truth of who she was, but she needed to know his feelings for her first. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“Both.” He reached out and cupped her chin with his hand. The gentle touch sent shivers of awareness running through her. Duty had become an unpalatable reason for marriage—especially with him. “It’s too dangerous for you, Ellie. I’m trying to protect you.”

He was right; it was dangerous. That was what made his involvement with Bruce so terrifying.

“What about the danger to you?” Ellie felt the tears gather in her eyes. Despite her father’s loyalty to King Edward, Ellie was sympathetic to her sister’s husband, whom she’d always admired. But sympathetic to Bruce’s plight or not, she knew his cause was a lost one. Bruce’s bid for the crown had failed. He and his supporters were surviving on borrowed time. It chilled her blood to imagine what the king would do when he caught up with them—and catch up with them he would. “How long do you think you can outrun the English fleet?”

He dropped his hand, his jaw hardening defiantly. “As long as I need to.”

“And then what happens? You die on some battlefield or, worse, at the end of a rope or an executioner’s axe?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “maybe not.”

Ellie bristled with frustration. Nothing ever penetrated. Nothing was ever serious. He seemed oblivious to the danger. “Don’t you care that you could die?”

“Dying is part of fighting, Ellie. And that’s what I do, I fight.” He smiled. “And usually I win.”

She didn’t doubt it. She’d seen him wield a blade. With his size and strength he would be deadly on the battlefield. “But you can’t win this time. Edward is too powerful. What do you have, a few hundred men?”

“It’s not over yet.”

Apparently, he possessed a stubborn streak of which she hadn’t been aware. “You think Bruce has a chance?”

“More than a chance.”

She heard something in his voice that she’d never heard before. It was deep, reverent, and unwavering. It took her a moment to recognize what it was: loyalty. Suddenly the inscription on his sword came back to her: always faithful.

“But you would follow him anyway,” she said, almost to herself. Even if it meant his own death.

He wasn’t incapable of forming attachments at all. If he could feel loyalty like that to Bruce, maybe it was possible that he could care for her. He wasn’t her father. Just because he was handsome and charismatic, it had been wrong of her to assume he would be incapable of deep emotions.

Without the bias of her mother’s heartbreak clouding her vision, Hawk’s actions in the past week took on an entirely different cast. He’d spent every free moment of time with her, making excuses just to be with her. Although his purpose might have been to see her relax, she hadn’t been the only one having fun. He’d laughed and smiled just as much as she did. He’d told her personal things about his family—things she suspected he shared with few people. And then there was the fact that he’d taken a message to her family. Something he didn’t need to do and hadn’t done without some risk.