Claimed by a Laird (7 page)

“Did you just insult me, woman?”

Anna whipped her head around in exasperation only to find
his face a few inches from hers, his dark eyebrows raised in obvious confusion.
She stepped back from him, determined to not allow him to rattle her.

“Dee-hi-draat-ed?” he repeated, struggling to mimic her
pronunciation.

She hesitated, blinking with confusion. Then it hit her—the
word “dehydrated” simply wasn’t a part of his vocabulary. “It’s not an insult,”
she assured him in a whisper as she touched his arm. “It just means you haven’t
had enough to drink.”

Galen straightened his back and nodded, apparently satisfied
with her answer. “You may continue.”

She turned toward his men. “All right then, meat, venison if
it is available, lots of water and whatever else you may have would be greatly
appreciated.”

A man with thick, dark-blond hair who appeared about Galen’s
age stepped forward. “I am truly sorry, my lady, but we do not have access to
clean water here. Ale would be much safer for the laird to drink.”

Anna did not dare turn around, convinced Galen’s triumphant
smile was burning into the back of her head. “All right,” she conceded. “Ale
will have to do.”

“Anna, this is Adam,” Galen said with a slight laugh. “My
second-in-command.”

“It is a pleasure, my lady.” The blond man smiled as he
bowed his head toward her.

She smiled, brushing aside her confusion at being called “my
lady”. “Nice to meet you.”

“Galen!” came a shout from off to the side.

All three turned as a tall, dark-haired young man who looked
barely out of his teens made his way through the crowd. With the exception of
his slighter build and hair a half-shade lighter, the young man was the
spitting image of Galen.

He stopped an arm’s length away and dropped to his right
knee, bowing his head. “Laird, I am very sorry. If I had known the Grahams were
so dishonorable…”

Galen crossed his arms as the young man’s voice trailed off.
“Get up, Geoffrey,” he snarled.

Anna stiffened at the evident anger in Galen’s voice, her
stomach jumping. She instinctively stepped back in case he lashed out.

Galen’s eyes darted to her and he shot her a scowl that
suggested she stay put before he turned his attention back to Geoffrey. Blood
rushed to her face. She needed to remember this man was not James.

“We have cattle enough,” Galen stated as his younger brother
stood and lifted his brown eyes.

“I know.”

“Have I not taught you better than that?” Galen asked,
lowering his voice to a bare whisper. “You abandon the cattle if you are being
pursued.”

Anna glanced from brother to brother in surprise. Could she
actually believe what she was hearing? This had all been about stealing cattle
from the Grahams? And, moreover, Galen was actually condoning it?

“So why did you not do that?”

Geoffrey’s mouth broke into a sheepish grin. “I promised Annabelle
a cow of her own.”

“What?” asked Adam, taking a threatening step toward him.

“If you had ever tasted the lass’s cheese,” Geoffrey
explained with a faraway smile, seemingly unconcerned by Adam’s menacing stare.
“If angels made cheese, it would taste like hers. I swear on my life it would.”

“Cheese,” Galen repeated, deadpan.

Geoffrey nodded earnestly.

“I exchanged my life for yours and sat in a dungeon for two
days so you could get cheese from a milkmaid?”

Geoffrey’s cheeks reddened as his expression fell.

Adam crossed his arms, mimicking his laird’s stance.
“Methinks the lass promised you a bit more than cheese, did she not? Obviously,
I have not kept you busy training as I should have.”

Geoffrey cast his gaze to the side, but not before Anna
caught what she was certain was a secretive twinkle in his eyes.

She pursed her lips to prevent her building laughter from
escaping her throat. Guilt set in over finding the whole situation so amusing,
especially since it could very well have cost Galen his life.

That thought brought back to mind her collection of food for
Galen. She quickly excused herself and turned to find several men waiting to
hand her some of their provisions.

“I have some cheese, my lady,” Geoffrey called from behind.

Warmth surged through Galen’s chest. Despite her highly
irregular behavior at interrupting his discussion with his warriors, he was
impressed by how effortlessly she had taken charge and thrown out orders that
were immediately obeyed by his men. A vague sense of rightness settled in his
chest and he smiled. Yes, Anna would make an excellent laird’s wife.

Her soft voice floated on the breeze. “
Tapadh leibh
,”
she repeated in Gaelic with a smile to each man bringing her donations.

Gaelic? He replayed her voice in his head several times and
each time the words resonated louder and louder. A strange coldness seeped into
his heart. He had assumed her only language to be English simply because that
is what she had spoken to him. He had never thought to ask her otherwise.

Adam slapped Galen on the back. “Lucky bastard,” he quipped,
nodding toward Anna. “It is not often a woman like that practically lands in
your lap. The men are already taken with her, especially since she is thanking
them in our language. Did you teach her that?”

Galen shook his head, his hands balling into fists.

Adam shrugged. “I guess she picked it up from one of the
men.”

“Yes, that must be it,” Galen murmured. His eyes narrowed
when she said the words again. Her pronunciation was somehow a little too
perfect for someone who was not a native speaker.

“Are we going to have problems with her family?” Adam asked
in a low tone. “You did not mention to whom she belongs and I assume you had
not time to request their permission to keep her.”

Damn the woman.

She had sidestepped giving him the name of the Scottish
family of which her father was a member. He glanced toward his smirking friend
and could not help but relax into a smile of his own. Brushing aside his sudden
doubt about Anna, he shrugged in feigned disinterest. “She was abandoned by her
father long ago. Her mother is of no threat to us.”

“You do not think the English king will take issue just to
start a war?”

Galen snorted. “I doubt he is even aware of her existence,
considering the fact her mother owns no property.”

Adam nodded, apparently satisfied by the explanation.

Galen turned his attention back to Anna, his jaw clenched
tightly. Lying to the one person who had been by his side since childhood and
always stood by him in the heat of battle, settled like a rock in his gut. He
was only protecting Anna. There was no need for Adam to know any more than
necessary.

“But I still do not understand how she got into the Graham
holding,” Adam admitted with wonder. “Is she a relative of the Graham?”

Galen crossed his arms, wishing his friend would drop the
matter. “She is a healer from just south of the English border.”

Anna turned and smiled as she walked toward Galen, her arms
laden with food and drink. “You have very generous men.”

Galen shook his head, ignoring the stirring of his cock at
the sight of her smile. “It is not generosity.”

“Only simply what is expected. A clan shares everything
without hesitation,” Adam added as he glanced at Galen. “How is it again that
you got into the Graham holding without anyone being the wiser? It is quite a
feat, my lady.”

The lashes shielding those greenish-blue orbs that made
Galen’s chest tighten every time she cast them in his direction, fluttered as
her eyes widened. “Um…did Galen not tell you already?”

“I did.” Galen stared intently into her eyes, determined to
make her understand she needed to listen very carefully to what he was saying
and not deviate from his story. “I told them you are a healer who was called
for by one of the servants who had heard of your work south of the border.”

She nodded slowly, not dropping his gaze. “Yes.”

“The babe, remember?” Galen prodded as he became
simultaneously frustrated and pleased by her seeming inability to wipe the fear
off her face. “You were snuck in on a hay wagon to tend to the sick babe of a
servant who was—”

“Yes, yes,” Anna quickly said. “She is, um…the cousin of a
neighbor of mine.”

Galen resisted the urge to smile at her cracking, nervous
voice. At least he’d always know when she was lying.

Adam’s brow crinkled as if he attempted to understand. “I
see. And where is it in England that you hail from? I must say, your accent and
way of speaking are most unusual for an Englishwoman.”

She turned her eyes to Galen in clear panic. He remained
silent, however, confident she would be able to give Adam a satisfactory
answer.

“Um…well, it is hard to say since I’ve never really been
anywhere before this,” she replied with an awkward shrug. “Where should we sit
so Galen can eat?”

“Oh, of course, my lady. Pray, forgive me,” Adam cheeks
reddened slightly. He took most of the food and ale from Anna and walked toward
a nearby campfire.

Anna’s shoulders visibly relaxed and weariness crept back
into her features. Galen wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her
toward Adam. “You did well,” he whispered before he released her.

She gifted him with a small smile of gratitude, her lashes
dancing against her cheeks as she cast her eyes to the ground in an utterly
feminine action. His chest tightened and it was all he could do to not pull her
against him and attempt to kiss her appealing bashfulness away in order to
reveal the tigress that lay just beneath the surface.

Adam motioned to an empty spot near one of the larger
campfires. Galen sat on the ground and when Anna did not immediately join him,
he grabbed her hand and unceremoniously pulled her down beside him.

“You will eat as well,” he gruffly commanded, handing her an
oatcake, an apple, a wedge of hard cheese and one of the flasks of ale.

She wrinkled her nose at the flask, her face screwing up in disgust.
“And how many of your men have been drinking out of this?”

“Just drink it or you will become dee-hi-draay-ted,” he
instructed, pleased to turn the tables on her.

She rolled her eyes and placed the flask on the ground in
front of her.

Galen threw back his head, chuckling loudly. Damn, this
woman pleased him. Her reactions to him were refreshingly honest and she had no
fear at all of arguing with him. He should probably take exception to those
flaws, especially since a wife should never openly disagree with her husband,
but instead he found them rather appealing.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he hauled her against his
side, eliciting a small, surprised yelp from her lips. She stared at him, but
he did not turn to look at her, focusing instead on his lead warriors who had
come to join him around the campfire.

As Galen ate, they continued to discuss strategies for the
coming battle and what might be the best course of action to ensure Anna’s
safety during the fight. He glanced down at her every now and then as she
finished her meal in silence, completely lost in her own thoughts.

Anna curled into his side and he marveled at how perfectly
she fit against him. Her thigh, soft and inviting against his own, spun a
lustful spell around him and soon his thoughts drifted from the important
conversation at hand to the kisses they had shared earlier in the forest. She
would have surrendered to him right then and there under the cover of the trees
if the desire on her bemused face had been any indication. Yes, he had wanted
to take her, and would have if he’d had the strength to spare and they were not
still on Graham land.

Galen slid his hand up her back to the base of her neck and
rubbed it with his thumb and forefinger. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips
and she leaned the side of her face against his shoulder.

He wanted to hear that little moan again—the one she had
uttered as he ground his cock against her while her legs were wrapped around
his waist. This time, however, he wanted to force it out of her as he rammed
into her while her naked body clung to him, her hardened nipples rubbing
against his chest in rhythm with his thrusts.

A scowl threatened, but he fought it back so as not to draw
the attention of his men. His thoughts about Anna were not honorable, but
bedding her was the first thing that had popped into his mind the moment he
climbed out of the dungeon pit. Despite his weariness, despite his hunger and
their perilous situation, this one thought had continued to haunt him.

And when that damnable Graham guard had dared to press his
lips to hers…

Anna shivered next to him, breaking his train of thought. He
briskly rubbed her arm, his temper flaring. He’d been self-absorbed since
arriving in camp. He should have seen to her comfort as she had to his.

He interrupted the conversation around him and ordered a
couple of his men to construct a tent for Anna so she would have a comfortable,
private place to sleep out of the wind. Despite having spent quite some time
walking through the forest, their clothes were still damp due to the moist,
chilled Highland air.

Perhaps if she were out of sight for awhile, he would be
able to focus on the battle plans rather than seducing her. Besides, she had
just been through hell. The last thing she needed was him mauling her all
night.

Once the tent was ready, Galen sent Anna off to sleep with
full intentions of leaving her alone. As the camp settled in for the night, he
dismissed his men and walked toward it, telling himself he would simply check
on her and then bed down near Adam next to the campfire. But as he approached
the tent, his thoughts quickly turned to slipping under the blankets next to
her as she slept.

“Hell,” Galen muttered as he gave into his wayward thoughts
and pulled off his still-damp clothes. He draped them over the top of the tent
so they would fully dry by morning and lifted the tent flap to duck inside.