The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(62)

He gazed up at her sharply. “Leave it be, Anna. It means nothing.”

The fact that he actually seemed to mean it made it that much worse. “How can you say that? Doesn’t it bother you? They should be thanking you for what you’ve done and praising your extraordinary abilities, not acting like children afeared of goblins under the bed or ghosts in the ambry.”

Her outrage on his behalf didn’t seem to be appreciated. Once again she sensed that the conversation made him uncomfortable. He gave her a hard look. “It doesn’t bother me, and I don’t need you making things more difficult by championing my cause. I don’t want you saying anything about whatever it is they thought they saw. Let it go and it will die a natural death. Prolong it and you will only make it worse.”

He spoke from experience.

Anna pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to argue. It wasn’t right, and the injustice of it raised every protective bone in her body.

It bothered him. It had to, no matter how nonchalant he seemed. The fact that he’d grown so accustomed to people’s subtle cruelty—that he expected it—only made it worse.

Her heart squeezed. How many times had he been rejected or shunned to become so callous and indifferent?

Was that why he pushed people away?

Suddenly, his remoteness and separateness seemed more a cloak to loneliness. He’d been doing it so long, he’d actually convinced himself he liked to be alone.

Her heart went out to him. She was so lucky to have her family; she hated to think of anyone alone.

“Anna?” he said, his gaze leveling on her in the moonlight. Had he guessed the direction of her thoughts? “Promise me you won’t say anything.”

She scowled, but nodded.

He stood up. After dropping the slinky mail over his head, he donned a clean tabard and started to strap on his numerous weapons. Though there was something intimate about watching him dress, she didn’t feel embarrassed. Rather, it felt natural. As if she could watch him ready himself for war forever.

The thought should have horrified her. Instead it filled her with a strong sense of yearning, of longing for something hovering just beyond her reach. His quiet solidness called to her. It made her think of a future. That maybe he wasn’t wrong, but exactly right.

A stable warrior. It seemed contradictory. But maybe she’d gotten it all wrong.

“What will you do when the war is over?” she asked.

She wondered if he’d ever given a thought to doing something with his drawing, perhaps? Or would he just be looking for the next battle to fight?

The question took him aback. Arthur paused in the middle of fastening his sword belt. In truth, he hadn’t given it much thought. War had consumed his life for so long. All he knew how to do was fight. First alongside his brother Neil, and later as a member of the Highland Guard. He was a professional soldier. One of the best in the world. It was all he knew how to do.

But was it what he wanted? Was it what he would do if given a choice?

Once his father had justice, once Bruce was secure on the throne, once he’d achieved his goals, what would he do then?

Land and a rich bride were to be his reward. It should be enough.

But as he stared at the woman who’d so staunchly defended him moments ago, who thought him extraordinary, not eerie, whose heart was too big for her own good, he wondered whether it would be.

He felt a strange heaviness in his chest, looking at her tiny upturned face bathed in soft shadows and moonlight. Knowing it was impossible didn’t stop him from wanting her.

But he’d already revealed too much. He’d grown so accustomed to lying about his abilities, it had been strange to admit the truth out loud. Strange, but also a relief. He’d kept himself apart for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to feel close to someone.

He was a damned fool.

His only excuse was that she’d caught him in a moment of weakness. The blood he’d been cleaning from his mail was that of the two men he’d been forced to kill to defend himself.

Protect your cover at all costs. Protect the mission.

God, sometimes he hated what he had to do.

He finished securing his weaponry before he answered. “I would think that depends on the outcome.”

Even in the semidarkness he could see her pale, but she recovered quickly. “There is only one possible outcome. You don’t know my father—he will not lose.”

Arthur stiffened. He knew that better than anyone. That was why he was here.

“King Hood and the rebels will be subdued and brought to justice.”

Though she sounded like a good, loyal MacDougall soldier, beneath the bravado he sensed her fragility. Anna was holding on tightly to illusions that were beginning to show cracks. But she had to know the direness of the situation or they wouldn’t be here.

“And yet you go to Ross to barter yourself for additional men.”

Her back straightened, her eyes flashing bright in the moonlight. “It’s not like that.”

It was exactly like that. And it was his job to ensure it didn’t happen.

He didn’t want to be cruel, but she needed to face reality. The pendulum had swung away from the MacDougalls; Bruce was winning this war. “What if you fail, Anna? What if Ross won’t agree to send men? What then?”

“My father will think of something.” She sounded so desperate, he almost reached out to comfort her before he caught himself. “Why are you talking like this?” she demanded. “You sound like a rebel. Why are you here if you don’t believe we will win?”