The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(122)

Sir Dugald and Sir Gillespie had submitted along with her grandfather and Ross; surprisingly, they seemed to harbor little ill will toward Arthur. But from the expression on Sir Dugald’s face as he argued with Sir Neil, the same could not be said of Dugald’s feelings toward his elder brother.

“From the looks of it, maybe it could have waited a few more.”

He chuckled. “They’ve always been like that. Fierce rivals even when they were lads. I think that’s why Dugald allied himself with the English for so long—so he wouldn’t have to follow orders from Neil. They’ll work it out. Eventually.”

Anna could see him start to look around the room again. “Are you ready to dance?” she asked anxiously.

He lifted a brow. “I’m ready to go to bed.”

Unconsciously, her gaze shot to Gregor MacGregor again. Much to her relief, this time he nodded.

When she turned back to Arthur, however, his eyes had narrowed. “Do you mind telling me why every time I mention bed, you look at MacGregor?”

She blushed.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” he demanded angrily. “You’re up to something—and don’t try to tell me you’re not, I can feel it.”

She lifted her chin, annoyed by his perceptiveness. “I thought I was supposed to be your blind spot.”

“You are,” he gave a sharp wave of his hand, “but he’s not.”

It wasn’t easy trying to surprise someone who picked up on every nuance, noticed every detail, and sensed every thing around him. He’d even noticed the changes in her body before she did—informing her that they had better move up the wedding or their child was going to be very large for two months early.

She gave him a smug look. “You’re jealous.” She let her gaze slide back down the table, taking a long, considering look. “He’s quite handsome, your friend.”

Arthur’s scowl only grew darker. “He won’t be so pretty much longer if you keep looking at him like that. And you’re stalling.”

She gave up in a huff. “Very well, but I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“What to be a surprise?”

A short walk outside the castle gates later, he discovered the reason for the subterfuge. Standing in a clearing before a single standing stone with the orange halo of the setting sun behind him, King Robert the Bruce stood in full kingly regalia. Flanking him, spread out like an iron wall, their features masked by the darkened nasal helms, were the other ten members of Bruce’s secret guard.

Arthur stopped in his tracks, giving her a swift look of incredulity. “Did you have something to do with this?”

She shook her head. “It was King Hoo—” She stopped at her husband’s look. “King Robert’s idea,” she amended, though it still didn’t fall easily from her tongue. “My mission was to distract you.” She made a face. “A mission it seems I failed.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I think you succeeded admirably.”

She beamed. “Go. They’re waiting for you.”

Arthur was finally going to have the ceremony he’d never had. The one denied him by his role as a spy. These men were a part of him, just as she was. She folded her hand over her stomach. And soon, as their babe would be.

He gave her another kiss. “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.” Always. Just as he would always come back to her. The man who’d once looked at the door as though he wanted to leave had found the place he belonged. And in a world where peace was as fragile as a sliver of glass, Anna had found her rock.

She watched him walk toward the others, a fierce swell of pride and happiness filling her chest. When he reached the others, she started to walk away.

She’d made it only a few feet beyond the circle of trees, however, before two women stopped her.

“Where are you going?” Tor MacLeod’s wife, Christina, asked in a hushed voice.

Anna tried not to be awed by her beauty, but it was impossible. Christina was as exquisite and refined as a faerie princess—especially compared to her terrifying-looking husband. He looked torn out of the pages of some ancient Norse myth. “I ... I thought I was not supposed to watch.”

The second woman smiled. Though not in the same realm of beauty as Christina Fraser, there was something calm and pleasing about the brash seafarer Erik MacSorley’s wife, Elyne. Anna had been shocked to discover she was the daughter of the Earl of Ulster, a close friend to the English king. But she was also sister to King Robert’s imprisoned wife, Elizabeth. Another divided family, it seemed.

“We’re not,” Elyne said. “But that’s not going to stop me. I didn’t get a chance to see my husband’s. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

“Won’t they be angry?” Anna asked.

Christina gave her a saucy grin. “They’ll get over it. Besides, I want to see what kind of marking they give him.”

Anna gave her a perplexed look. “He already has one. It’s the lion rampant. I thought all the men had one.”

“They do,” Christina answered. “But they decided to add to it after the spider in the cave. Have you heard the story?”

Anna nodded. The story of Bruce’s spider in the cave had already become legend.