The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(27)

They continued on into the churchyard to the small building behind, where the priest slept and ate.

Friar John was good to his word. Brother Rory’s pottage was indeed one of the best Arthur had ever had. After two bowls he would have been content to sit on the bench in the priest’s garden and enjoy the crisp summer afternoon, but they needed to be on their way.

As he pushed back from the table, he heard it again. Singing. Louder this time. The sweet, musical tones were stunning in their beauty, filling him with a sense of awe like that which occurred when beholding a natural wonder. Like a perfect sunset. Or the mist upon a loch at dawn.

“Who’s that?” he asked almost reverently.

Brother Rory gave him a strange look that shook Arthur out of his trance. He’d spoken without thought, not adjusting for his keen hearing.

The priest listened and seemed to realize what he’d heard. “Ah, the lady is visiting from the castle today. She must be singing to Duncan—he loves nothing better since he returned than to hear the lady sing.”

Arthur froze. His senses no longer buzzed, they clamored. It couldn’t be.

Oblivious to Arthur’s reaction, Brother Rory continued. “Her visits are looked forward to by everyone. She brings such cheer.” His chest puffed with pride. “The lady never forgets us, or the people who have served her grandfather.”

“What lady?” Dugald asked.

“The Lady Anna. The Lord of Lorn’s youngest daughter. An angel sent from heaven, that’s what she is.”

More like sent by the devil to torment Arthur.

Dugald took one look at Arthur’s face and burst out laughing. “Sounds like the lass has tracked you down.”

Arthur couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t have found him ... could she? The other men would have returned yesterday.

He shook it off. Nay, it was impossible. A coincidence. An unfortunate coincidence.

Brother Rory looked confused by Dugald’s jest. “The lady comes every other Friday. As dependable as mist on the mountaintops. Do you know her?”

“A little,” Arthur said, before Dugald could respond.

Even more anxious to leave than before, he hurried to the post in the garden where they’d tied their horses.

Unfortunately, Lady Anna chose this moment to leave the small cottage she’d been visiting.

She stepped out on the path, not more than fifty yards away, and turned to wave goodbye to the woman and two small children who stood in the doorway. The sun caught her hair in a halo of golden light.

He felt a strange skip in his chest. He’d thought about her more than he wanted to admit, and he’d be damned if seeing her didn’t make him feel a brief flash of ...

Hell. It felt like happiness. As if he’d actually missed her. But of course he hadn’t missed her. She was a nuisance. An adorable nuisance.

Her gaze turned in his direction.

He saw her startle and knew she’d seen him. But she pretended not to, spinning around and heading quickly down the path toward the loch.

Away from him, her guardsman following trustily behind.

Arthur frowned. Not because she’s just ignored him, he told himself. Nay, because of her guardsman. Her solitary guardsman.

Before he could think better of it, he shouted, “Lady Anna!”

He could see her shoulders lift to her ears from here. Why that particular movement irritated him, he didn’t know, but it did.

Ignoring his grinning fool of a brother, he retied his horse to the post and strode toward her.

She seemed to stiffen—stiffen, damn it—straightening her spine and bringing her basket closer to her side, almost as if she were preparing to do battle.

“Sir Arthur,” she said in that soft, breathless tone that he’d forgotten. Right. She looked past his shoulder to his brother. “Sir Dugald. What a surprise.”

It didn’t sound like a pleasant one. What the hell was the matter with her? Had her interest drifted already?

That’s what he wanted, blast it.

He stopped right in front of her, perhaps a step too close. If he didn’t know himself better, he’d say he was trying to intimidate her. Using his size to block an escape. But he wasn’t a barbarian—he didn’t do things like that.

“Where are the rest of your men?” he snapped.

Her brows furrowed, creating those little lines atop her nose. “What men?”

He tried to sound patient but failed. “I see but a solitary guardsman,” he said, with a nod of acknowledgment to the young soldier.

She smiled. “Robby always accompanies me on Fridays. He was raised in this village.”

Arthur’s nonexistent temper started to rise again. Robby, though tall, couldn’t be more than ten and eight, and he sure as hell wouldn’t stop anyone intent on harming her.

Satan’s stones, there was a bloody war going on! What in Hades was Lorn thinking to let her wander like this?

He turned to his brother. “I’ll take the friar to Oban. You return to the castle with Lady Anna.”

Ah hell. He saw his brother’s eyes narrow and knew she’d done it again. She’d made him do something without thinking. He’d just given an order to his captain. He didn’t make mistakes like that.

“I’ll take the friar,” Dugald said, a hard edge to his voice. “You can take the Lady Anna.”