The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(105)

Ah hell. There would be no talking his way out of this.

He’d forgotten about the note. The message he’d planned to leave in the cave for the king tonight. A small slip of paper folded in his sporran with three words that would seal his fate: Attack, 14th, Brander.

Although perhaps his fate had been sealed two months ago. The moment he’d come face-to-face with the girl he’d rescued in an ill-fated attack. The girl who could unmask him.

With a fierce battle cry that tore through the night, Arthur let instinct take over. Bàs roimh Gèill—Death before Surrender. He fought like a wildman, taking five men down before he fell beneath the pommel of Alan MacDougall’s sword.

As blackness closed over him, he knew it wasn’t over yet. And it was about to get worse.

They wanted him alive.

Twenty-three

Her heart shouldn’t feel as if it were breaking.

Anna wanted him to go. He’d lied to her. Betrayed her. Used her. He wanted to destroy everything that was important to her. How could he think there would ever be a chance for them?

He’d even tried to turn their passion against her. As if a kiss could make her forget what he’d done. She’d hated him at that moment. Hated him for sullying something that was beautiful and pure.

She told herself this was what she wanted. But when he’d turned his back on her and walked away, the ice in her heart started to crack.

He was leaving. Leaving.

She would never see him again.

Oh God. She held herself stone still, not daring to move, but her insides started to shudder. She felt as if she were a thin pane of glass being battered by a violent storm of emotions. On the surface strong, but in reality fragile. One hard blow and she would shatter into thousands of tiny pieces.

After what he’d done, she shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t hurt so much. The pain. The burning. The despair. The feeling that her heart was being ripped out of her. The intensity of emotion seemed like weakness. She was strong. Where was her pride? She was a MacDougall.

But right now all she felt like was a girl who was watching the man she loved walk away from her forever.

Unable to bear it a moment longer—and fearing what he would see if he turned around—she ran. Ran as fast as she ever had up the stairs, until she reached the safety of her chamber. There, careful not to wake her sleeping sisters, she collapsed on her bed, pulled the covers over her head, and crumpled like a poppet of rags. Only then did she let her emotions break through in silent sobs that seemed wrenched from her soul.

Sensing her distress, Squire curled up beside her. She hugged the puppy to her, the warm, furry ball of unconditional love her loyal companion during the long, miserable night.

I love you.

She couldn’t get the words out of her head. He’d sounded so sincere. But he’d lied about everything else, so how could she believe him? Even if it was true, it shouldn’t matter.

Over and over she replayed what had happened in her mind, recalling every word of his explanation—justification—whatever it was he was trying to make.

It was bad enough that they were on opposite sides of a war, but did he honestly expect her to understand that he had to destroy her clan? Kill her father, the man she admired most in the world? All for some kind of revenge?

Justice, he’d called it.

She didn’t want to listen to his explanations or understand his reasons. Nor did she believe the horrible lies he’d spouted about her father for one moment. Her father could never have killed a man so dishonorably.

He’ll do anything to win. She pulled the pillow tighter around her ears, wanting the feathers to block it out.

Ask him, Arthur had challenged.

She didn’t need to ask him; she knew the truth.

But Arthur had been so certain about what he’d seen ...

Anna slid out of her bed as the first rays of dawn spilled across the floor. After hurrying through her morning ablutions, she slipped past her sisters on her way out of the chamber.

She knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to prove Arthur wrong. Then she’d be able to put this behind her and stop the miserable aching in her heart.

The trestle tables had yet to be set out, and some of the men were still stirring from their pallets in the Great Hall, as she rushed to her father’s solar. Though it was not yet an hour past dawn, she knew her father would be up. He barely slept when readying for battle.

She heard his voice as she neared the entry. “I don’t care how long it takes, I want to know the names.”

“I don’t know how much more he can—”

Alan stopped abruptly, seeing her enter the room. One look at his face and she knew something was wrong.

Her father was seated behind the table, his henchman, the captain of his guard, and her brother Alan standing before him. His gaze narrowed angrily upon seeing her. The others seemed to look away, almost as if they were avoiding meeting her gaze.

Thinking her father’s anger was because of her interruption, she bid a hasty retreat. “I’m sorry. I will return when you are done.”

“Nay,” her father said. “I want to talk to you. We’re finished here.” To Alan he said, “No more excuses. Get me what I want. Whatever it takes.”

Alan’s mouth fell in a thin line, but he nodded. Anna felt a prickle of unease when he left the room without a word or even a glance.