The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(31)

He could feel her gaze on him, but he kept his face straight ahead. “Why are you really here?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want?”

Justice. Revenge. In this case, they were the same thing. “What most knights fight for: land and reward.”

In his case, Bruce had promised to restore Innis Chonnel to his brother and had dangled the promise of a rich bride for Arthur—the richest in the Highlands, Christina MacRuairi, Lady of the Isles.

“And nothing else?”

“An end to the war.”

“Then we want the same thing.”

She didn’t know how wrong she was. An end to the war for him would see Bruce on the throne and the MacDougalls destroyed.

He gave her a sidelong glance. She was so beautiful she made his chest hurt. But that beauty had deceived him. He’d seen the innocent freshness of her face and sweetness of her smile, but not the strength. For a man who prided himself on perception and observation, it was disconcerting to have been so wrong.

In light of what he’d seen today, her actions over the past two weeks—the feast, the games—took on a different cast. Perhaps it wasn’t fantasy, but a means of protection: doing what she could to preserve a way of life that was tumbling down around her ears.

Though he admired her, he was also sorry for her. She was fighting a losing battle. And there was a fragility to her strength that made him wonder whether she knew it as well.

He wished he could protect her. Which was both ironic and ridiculous, given that he was here to destroy that which she was trying so desperately to hold on to.

He was surprised how much it bothered him.

Whether he liked it or not, Anna MacDougall was the enemy.

Seven

They rode in silence for a few miles before Arthur spoke again. “There’s a burn ahead where we can stop to water the horses and have a bite to eat if you are hungry.” He inhaled the caramel scent of butter and sugar. “The smell of those buns is making me hungry.”

He thought her cheeks paled a little, but perhaps it was the fading light. “Please, don’t stop on my account. The horses will be fine until we—”

She stopped, peering through the trees to the bank of the small river ahead. “What are those boys doing?”

Arthur heard a muffled, frantic barking. From the thrashing bag slung over one of the boys’ shoulders, he could guess. “Come,” he said. “We’ll stop at the next burn.”

Her eyes narrowed and then widened in horror when she realized what was happening. “No!” she shouted, galloping forward as the boys started to lower the bag into the water. “Stop!”

The lads, ranging from about ten to fifteen, looked up in stunned awe as she approached. Arthur could only imagine their incredulity at seeing a nymph spring from the forest like a crusading Valkyrie.

“What do you have in that bag?” she asked as they stared up at her dumbly.

The eldest boy found his tongue first. “ ’Tis only a pup, m’lady. The sickly runt of the litter.”

The little cry of despair in her throat tugged strangely in Arthur’s chest.

“Let me see him,” she demanded.

One of the younger boys said, “You don’t want him, m’lady. His own mother don’t want him. He’ll starve if we don’t get rid of ’im.”

She made another one of those cries and the pain in his chest sharpened. Arthur feared he’d do just about anything never to hear that sound again.

“Show the lady,” he said sternly.

The boys started to shuffle their feet as if they’d been caught doing something wrong, although they’d only meant to do the pup a kindness.

The eldest boy dropped the bag on the ground and loosened the tie. He folded back the edge of the bag, revealing the skinniest, ugliest puppy Arthur had ever seen.

“He’s adorable!” Anna exclaimed, jumping from her horse before either Arthur or Robby could help her.

The boys gazed at her as if she were daft.

She kneeled down and scooped the pathetic-looking ball of matted gray-and-black fur in her arms. “The poor little thing is terrified.” She looked up to Arthur for sympathy. “Look how badly he’s shaking.”

Arthur could see right away that the young deerhound did not have long for this world. He was small and painfully thin. His mother had probably refused to feed him since he’d been born.

“The lads are saving the pup from a far worse death,” he said gently. “He won’t survive.”

Anna narrowed her eyes and pursed her mouth, giving him a glimpse of stubbornness that he suspected could be every bit as formidable as his own.

“I’ll take him.”

Her generous heart was preventing her from seeing reality. “How will you feed him?”

She lifted her chin, giving him a glare that chastised him for daring to talk about realities. “I’ll think of something.”

He heard the determination in her voice and knew she wouldn’t be dissuaded. For someone who looked as threatening as a kitten, she could certainly be stubborn.

“He’s not worth it, my lady,” one of the boys said. “He’ll never make a good hound. If you want a dog, you can have one of his brothers.”

As if he knew he’d found his champion, the pup burrowed his head into her arm. She shook her head and smiled. “I don’t want another one, I want him.”