The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel (30 page)

    Hours later, the men sat around the fire in the camp, having just enjoyed one of Meg’s fine meals and even more of the villagers’ fine ale. Edward Bruce was talking with Randolph, and this was the first opportunity Erik had had to speak with Boyd alone.

As good as it was to see his fellow guardsman, the news he’d brought had been grim. Nigel Bruce, Christopher Seton, and the Earl of Atholl all had been executed, and there had been no word from Viper, Saint, and Templar since they’d fled north with the women nor from Dragon since he’d gone after his brother.

“So, how did you find me?” Erik asked.

“Luck. The king sent us to scout Arran for the attack, but when we tried to return we found our route cut off by a blockade of English galleys. We took refuge at the village near Dunaverty Castle to wait for the sea-ways to clear and spoke with our friend at the castle. When he told me how you’d arrived, I figured you must be close. Edward mentioned that he’d scouted from this island when you made your escape from Dunaverty last time, so I took a chance.” He gave him a hard look. “What the hell did you do to piss off de Monthermer?”

Erik had already relayed the circumstances of his meeting with the McQuillans—including being forced to take Ellie—and the subsequent confrontation with the English ships. “Pricked his pride, that’s all.”

Boyd shook his head. “I don’t think so. Our friend at the castle said de Monthermer was there a few days ago on a rampage, questioning the servants about some ghost.”

Erik frowned and relayed the unexpected encounter with the boy in the granary, of course leaving out the part where he got knifed.

If de Monthermer was at Dunaverty, he was close. How had the Englishman made the connection? Erik had an uneasy feeling. Perhaps it was a good thing they were leaving.

“Did you have any trouble on Arran?” Erik asked.

“Nay. The English stopped on the island last week but didn’t search very closely.” Probably around the same time they’d stopped here, Erik realized. “But they’re stationed all around the waterways. We were forced to come overland and catch a boat at Dunaverty. You are going to have a hell of a time getting one boat through, let alone an entire fleet.”

Erik wasn’t worried. He’d think of something. Even if he had to lead the English away himself, Bruce would get to Arran.

They talked some more and decided that Edward and Boyd should return to Arran, rather than risk a trip through the English gauntlet, and prepare for the arrival of the army. Since Erik would be leaving tomorrow night to meet the Irish and lead them to Rathlin, he would take word back to Bruce of what Boyd and Edward had found.

“You’re cutting it kind of close, aren’t you?” Boyd asked. “Bringing the Irish to Rathlin at the last minute?”

“The king decided it would be more risky to attempt to hide hundreds of men on a small island.” Erik smiled. “And he knows I won’t let him down.”

“What if you can’t get through?”

“I’ll get through,” Erik said with a laugh. “We’ll travel at night; they won’t even know we’re there. Besides, they’re only English.”

Boyd grinned. Of all the Highland Guard, Boyd had cause to hate the English the most. He hailed from the borders, which had borne the brunt of English injustice for years. “I can see your confidence hasn’t suffered any. You’re still a cocky bastard.”

“And you’re still bitter over the lass in Scone. You can hardly blame her for choosing beauty and charm over brute strength.”

Boyd shook his head. Erik knew he didn’t care about the pretty barmaid. “Sod off, Hawk. She only wanted you because Arrow wasn’t there.”

Erik grinned. Boyd was probably right. When Gregor MacGregor stepped into the room, the lasses tended to forget about anyone else. The famed archer hated the attention. A damned waste, to Erik’s mind.

“I hear you’ve been keeping yourself occupied,” Edward Bruce interjected, approaching with Randolph. “Only you, Hawk, could manage to get yourself marooned on an island with your own captive.”

Erik shot a glance to Randolph, wondering what tales he’d been carrying to Edward Bruce. The lad wasn’t going to last long if he didn’t learn to keep his mouth shut. Erik’s sisters used to tattle when they were young, but at least they’d outgrown it by the time they turned ten.

“She’s not my captive,” Erik said with a hint of a warning in his tone. He didn’t want to talk about Ellie.

Edward didn’t take the hint. “Randolph here says you’ve taken a real liking to the lass. She must be a beauty, eh?”

Erik felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders begin to knot.

Unaware of Erik’s reaction, Edward continued, “Soft and sweet, with big, juicy tits?” He made a squeezing motion with his hands. “When you’re done fucking her, maybe I’ll—”

Erik saw black. He was filled with a dark, mindless rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. He had his hand around Edward’s neck and pinned him against the wall before he could finish.

Blood roared in his ears. His heart was hammering so fast, all he wanted to do was squeeze. “Don’t say it,” Erik warned in a deadly voice.

Edward clutched at Erik’s hand and started making gasping noises. But it was futile; Erik’s arm was as rigid and unbending as steel. “Let go of me,” he wheezed, “you bloody barbarian.”

Erik squeezed a little tighter and Edward’s eyes started to bulge.

“Let him go, Hawk.”

Boyd’s calm voice broke through the haze. Slowly, Erik’s mind cleared and, realizing he was about to strangle the king’s brother, he released his hold on Edward’s neck.

Edward bent over at the waist, with his hands around his neck, gasping for air. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” he accused, red-faced and spitting angry. “How dare you put your hands on me. My brother will hear about this.”

That was exactly Edward Bruce’s problem. He’d never learned to live out of the shadow of his much greater brother. He was a crude, arrogant bastard who thought his nobility gave him the excuse to say and do whatever he wanted. Usually Erik ignored him. But when Edward had mentioned Ellie …

All he could think about was killing him. That Edward had been able to provoke such a reaction was disconcerting. It was nothing Erik hadn’t said before—albeit less crudely. In fact, not long ago, he’d made a similar jest to MacLeod about his new bride and nearly had his head lopped off by his decidedly unamused friend. It was the first time Erik had realized just how besotted MacLeod was with his wife.

But that situation was nothing like this one.

He peered over at Edward. “Do what you need to do, Number Two.” Edward’s eyes flared even redder at the name Erik had jokingly coined for him a few months back—ostensibly a reference to his birth position, but just as much a reflection of his always coming second to his much admired brother. Edward stormed out of the cave, and Erik sat back down on the rock that he’d so swiftly vacated.

He felt Boyd’s gaze studying him. For a vicious brute, he was annoyingly perceptive. “So that’s what it looks like when you get angry? Chief mentioned something, but I’ll admit I didn’t believe him.”

Erik took a deep drink of ale, wondering why he felt like a bug under a damned rock.

Boyd gave a soft whistle. “She must be some woman. You’ve just made yourself one hell of a powerful enemy.”

“It had nothing to do with her. Edward’s an arse. That’s been a long time coming.” It was true, but it still didn’t explain Erik’s reaction.

Boyd studied him a little longer and then, thankfully, changed the subject.

    The cold night air numbed her cheeks as Ellie peered out the small window into the darkness. She could see little beyond the circles of light cast from the torches positioned on either side of the entry of Meg’s longhouse.

Where was he? Hawk had said he would see her tonight, but instead he’d sent word that he would be eating at camp with his men and asked for Thomas to join him as soon as possible.

Ellie had seen the two men arguing earlier and feared that his absence had something to do with her. She bit her lip, suspecting that Thomas had seen her leaving the barn. What must he think? Her chest squeezed. Exactly what she deserved: that she was a wanton.

She gnawed her lip a little more anxiously, watching for any sign of that tall, muscular physique. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Looking for someone?”

Ellie quickly closed the shutter and turned around to face an amused Meg. She shook her head. “I was just admiring the full moon.”

Meg gave her a smile, too kind to challenge her lie. “I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure he’s merely lost track of time. If Hawk told you he’d be here, he will. For all that devil-may-care bluster of his, he’s one of the most dependable people I know. You can count on him.”

It was odd but true. Ellie blushed. “It’s not like that.”

Meg smiled. “I think it’s
exactly
like that.” Her eyes twinkled. “It wasn’t so long ago that I was watching out the window for my Colin.” She sighed. “Ah, the first blush of love.”

Ellie startled. “I’m not in love,” she protested, forgetting the silly story Hawk had concocted. She knew Meg well enough now, however, to suspect that she’d never believed it anyway.

Ellie couldn’t be in love. Horror washed over her. The air suddenly felt heavy and smothering. She couldn’t be so foolish as to lose her heart to a man with whom there was no chance of a future. Who would only break her heart.

Meg acted as if she hadn’t spoken. She shook her head woefully. “I never thought I’d see the day Hawk had his wings clipped.”

Ellie’s heart stopped, then started again in a rapid flurry. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t know it yet, but that man is in love with you.”

Ellie’s heart was beating so hard it hurt. Meg was wrong; she had to be wrong. “Didn’t you just warn me that he loved women too much to ever give his heart to one?”

Meg shrugged as if her words no longer mattered. “I’ve seen Hawk with many women, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he does you.”

Ellie’s mind was having a hard time controlling the almost desperate yearnings of her heart. Maybe it hadn’t all been her imagination. Could Meg be right?

Ellie forced herself to be rational. “It doesn’t matter. Even if it were true, he means to return me to my family as soon as we leave.”

Meg took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Give him time, lass. Things are complicated right now, and Hawk isn’t the type of man to come to his feelings willingly. He might need a little pushing, but eventually he’ll get there.”

The maelstrom of emotion tossing inside her for the past few days threatened to unleash. Tears stung the back of her eyes and throat. Ellie gazed up into the kind eyes of the woman who’d become her friend. The urge to confide in someone was overpowering. “I don’t have time,” she whispered.

Meg’s brows knit together. “Are you married?”

Ellie shook her head. “Not yet. But I’m betrothed.”

A broad smile cleared the worry from Meg’s face. “Then there is still time. You’ll just have to push a little harder.”

Meg made it sound so simple, though it was anything but. Even if she were convinced of Hawk’s feelings—which she wasn’t—there was the betrothal contract to consider. How would her father react if she asked to break the contract? For a woman of her rank and position, personal feelings weren’t supposed to matter. She was expected to do her duty. As it hadn’t occurred to her to tell her father her feelings, she had no idea what his reaction would be.

There was also Ralph and King Edward’s reactions to consider. Though Ralph did not seem to have feelings for her, he could be angry. But given the circumstances of his first marriage, perhaps he’d understand. King Edward’s reaction was impossible to guess.

Her father cared for her, and something made her believe he would not force her into a marriage she did not want. But that didn’t mean he would welcome a pirate for a son-in-law.

She knew there was another alternative. She could always run away with him and risk her family disowning her. But to a girl who’d always tried to do the right thing, who believed in duty and responsibility, who loved her family with all her heart, it seemed almost unthinkable to contemplate. It was something Matty would do—not she. She wasn’t impetuous, she was serious and …

Boring
. Doomed to live a life that she didn’t want—with a man she didn’t want.

“Does Hawk know about the betrothal?” Meg asked.

Ellie shook her head. “I don’t think it would matter to him. He’s made it clear that our … uh, relationship is temporary.”

Meg harrumphed. “There is a big difference between what men say and what they feel. You’ll never know how he’ll react unless you tell him.” Meg must have read the indecision on her face. “If you are sure that is what you want.”

Ellie wasn’t sure of anything. But if there was some chance that Meg could be right, she had to find out. And she didn’t have much time to do so.

Meg gave her an odd smile. “I was just about to go to camp to retrieve the cooking pots I sent down earlier.”

Ellie frowned, not catching on right away. “Didn’t Duncan say not to bother, that he would bring them back himself?”

Meg put her hands on her hips. “Well, as Duncan hasn’t seen fit to do so, I intend to fetch them myself.”

Ellie smiled. “Could you use a little help?”

“Why how thoughtful of you,” Meg said, as if the idea had never occurred to her. “I certainly could.”

The two women shared a conspiratorial smile and gathered their cloaks. The wind had picked up, and the torch flickered in the darkness as they carefully wound their way down the cliffside trail to the beach. Ellie had the feeling they were being watched and realized Hawk probably had guardsmen stationed around the perimeter of the cave. But it wasn’t until they neared the entrance that a young guardsman stopped them.

“I’m afraid the captain is busy right now,” he said, twitching and shuffling as if his clothing was too tight.

Ellie could hear the sounds of merriment coming from within the cave. Busy what, celebrating? Her stomach dropped, thinking of the women from the other night. She attempted to peer over the guardsman’s shoulder, but the lad was tall and his chest blocked a good portion of the entrance.