The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(88)

His jaw was squared as hard as his shoulders, as if he expected to confront something unpleasant.

Me, she realized, feeling a sharp stab in her chest.

“Lady Anna,” he said with a curt bow.

Her mother and sisters had not so subtly turned their backs, shielding them somewhat from the rest of the crowd to afford them some semblance of privacy. But she was still deeply conscious that they were not alone.

“You must go?” She hated herself for asking but couldn’t help it. She knew it was his job, but she didn’t want him to leave. Was this how it would always be?

“Aye.”

There was a long pause. It sounded so final. “How long will you be gone?”

Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before she could put a name to it.

“It depends on how fast the army is marching. A few days, maybe more.”

She stared at his handsome face, trying to memorize the hard lines of his features, the scars, the strange golden amber of his eyes.

“You will be careful?” It was a silly thing to say, but she had to say it all the same.

A smile hovered at the corner of his mouth. “Aye.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, as if he, too, were trying to put it to memory. There was a bleakness to his expression that she’d never seen before.

A shiver of trepidation blew across the back of her neck. It’s just the war, she told herself. He’s focused on the battle ahead.

He took her hand and raised it to his mouth, the warm imprint of his lips radiating over her skin. “Goodbye, Lady Anna.”

Something in his tone made her heart clench. He turned to go, and she wanted desperately to call him back.

The type of man who was always looking at the door ...

Nay. She told herself she was being silly. He wasn’t leaving her. It was only for a few days.

But why did it seem like goodbye?

Then, as if he couldn’t stop himself, he spun back around, cupped her chin in his hand, and lowered his mouth to hers.

His lips brushed over hers in a soft, tender kiss that made her heart lurch. It tasted of longing. Of pain. And of regret. But most of all it tasted of goodbye. She wanted to hold on, to make it last, but she barely had time to gasp before it was over.

He dropped his hand, held her gaze for one soul-piercing moment, and left. He didn’t look back. Not once.

Anna stared after him—stunned—not sure what had just happened.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, wanting to hold on to the heat and his taste for as long as she could. But before the last man had ridden through the gate, it was gone.

Arthur had been looking for a way out, and he’d found it. The scouting trip east gave him a chance to do something that months ago would have seemed unthinkable: back out of his mission.

He had to do something. He couldn’t stand by and let the situation get worse. The days following their betrothal had been impossible. The pretense was killing him. Anna was so damned happy. So pleased to be marrying the man who was going to betray her. Each tentative smile, each glance seeking reassurance he could not give, was like a drop of acid eating at his conscience.

He couldn’t do this to her. Even if it meant sacrificing his mission. The irony was that he couldn’t have chosen a more effective means of infiltrating the MacDougalls than becoming engaged to the lord’s daughter. The betrothal, coupled with the fact that he’d saved Alan’s life, had given him access to the very center of power: the lord’s council.

He wasn’t sacrificing his mission, he told himself. He’d done enough already in identifying the source of the messages as the women, passing intelligence of the MacDougalls’ numbers and readiness, and providing a map of the terrain, as well as preventing an alliance with Ross—even if that hadn’t happened exactly has he’d wanted it to.

They were on the eve of battle. King Robert would understand.

It was the middle of the night, three days after his disastrous parting with Anna. He hadn’t expected saying goodbye to be so hard. But riding away from her, knowing he might never see her again, had taken every ounce of his resolve. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But looking into her eyes, seeing her fear and worry for him, had been more than he could take. He’d needed that feeling of utter connection one more time, knowing that he’d never have it again.

He glanced over his shoulder, assuring himself he hadn’t been followed, before tethering his horse to a tree. He was about a mile away from where Bruce’s army had camped for the night. He would travel the rest of the way on foot. The sentries were liable to shoot at anything approaching camp at this time of night without stopping to ask questions, and the horse could give him away.

His senses sharpened as he drew closer to the king’s camp, anticipating the first sign of the perimeter guard. He was taking a chance, coming unannounced like this, but he had no choice. There hadn’t been time to arrange to meet or get a message to the Guard, and the MacDougall scouting party was readying to return to Dunstaffnage castle with their report tomorrow. He’d volunteered for night patrol, knowing this would be his only chance.

He knew Chief would have one of the members of the Highland Guard on post as he did every night. Arthur would attempt to make contact with one of his fellow guardsmen first.

Suddenly, the back of his neck prickled. He stopped, sensing the strange shift in the air that occurred when someone else was near. He waited, blending into the darkness of the forest, knowing that he would hear whoever was approaching first.