The Recruit (23 page)

Mary had felt something odd swirling in the air all day. She’d arrived at Berwick
Castle the night before, but she’d seen little of the men all day. Sir John had been
late to escort her to the feast for the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, or
Candlemas as it was also called. Sir Adam had arrived even later with Lord Percy and
had given her an apologetic smile as he’d taken a seat on the bench near Gaveston—or
rather, the Earl of Cornwall.

The earl was known as being extremely sensitive to any lack of regard for his position.
Even referring to him by the name Gaveston rather than Cornwall could be cause for
disfavor. But when he wasn’t within hearing, many of the nobles refused to call him
by the name of the earldom that had always been reserved for members of the royal
family. The more titles and riches Edward lavished on his favorite, the more the other
barons hated him.

Though Lord Percy had answered the king’s call to muster—one of the few English barons
who had done so—the acrimony between him and Sir Piers was well known. Yet the men
had been locked in discussion for most of the meal.

Something was commanding their attention. She wondered what it was.

Barely had the question formed when she felt a prickle of
awareness. Nay, a prickle of danger. It was the feeling of being watched. She felt
a twitch, like that of a mouse under the predatory gaze of the hawk.

She turned in the direction of the oppressing weight and froze. The bottom fell out
of her stomach. Her legs swayed as if she might swoon.

It wasn’t possible. But it was …

Dear God, it was
him
. Sir Kenneth Sutherland in all of his aggressively masculine perfection. He was even
more handsome than she remembered—and she would have sworn she remembered
everything
about him. But his eyes were an even deeper blue than her imagination would allow,
his jaw harder and more challenging, his face leaner and with a few more nicks, his
shoulders broader, and his arms even thicker with muscle. She’d forgotten how it felt
to stand so close to him. How tall he was. How powerfully built. How stomach-knottingly
handsome.

But most of all, she’d forgotten how it felt to be caught in that magnetic gaze.
Caught
. That was exactly how she felt.

Panic surged through her. “Why are you here?” she blurted, as if he might have discovered
the truth.

But he couldn’t have, she reminded herself.
He couldn’t know
.

“You’ve met?”

Sir John’s question startled her from her trance of panic—and fear, she realized.
Deep-seated fear.

He didn’t sound pleased.

Suddenly the reason for his question hit her. She stared at Sir Kenneth in mute horror,
unsure what to say. Had she given him away? Did they know he was with Bruce?

But apparently it wasn’t a secret. “Aye,” Sir Kenneth said. “In Scotland at the Highland
Games last fall.”

From the glares shooting back and forth, it was obvious these two men didn’t like
one another.

“Aye, that was it,” she said as if the matter were beneath her regard. “I’d almost
forgotten.”

She caught the spark in Sir Kenneth’s eyes and knew he hadn’t mistaken her implication.

“Of course,” Sir John said, giving her a smile that was both too indulgent and too
proprietary. “You attended the Games while on your peacekeeping mission for the king.
You would have occasion to meet many of the rebels.” He gave a small sneer of distaste.

Sir Adam finally took pity on her bewilderment. “Young Sutherland has declared his
allegiance for Edward.”

Mary couldn’t hide her shock. Her gaze flickered to Sir Kenneth’s. “You have?”

A muscle tightened in his jaw, as if sensing her disapproval. “Aye.”

“When?”

“Only last night,” Sir John said, a hint of snideness in his tone. “How fortunate
for us that Sir Kenneth has once again decided to switch sides.”

She could tell by the tiny white lines that appeared around Sir Kenneth’s mouth and
the sudden glint in his eye that he hadn’t missed the disparagement, but he did not
rise to defend himself. Which, from what she knew of him, was strange. He definitely
didn’t seem the type to let a slight go by. Rather the opposite. She’d gotten the
impression he was usually raring for a fight.

Though it was hardly uncommon to jump from one side of the border to the other, Mary
was unaccountably disappointed to hear that he’d left Bruce’s army. Over the past
months, she’d wondered if she’d somehow been wrong about him. But this show of loyalty—or
rather, disloyalty—seemed proof that she wasn’t.

She wanted to ask him why, but dared not prolong the conversation that had already
gone on too long. So instead, she merely agreed, “Fortunate indeed.” Going on as if
the matter meant nothing to her, which indeed it shouldn’t, she
added to Sir Adam, “I’m feeling rather tired. I think I shall return to my chamber.”

“I will see you back—” Sir John started, but she cut him off. The last thing she wanted
to deal with right now was an insistent suitor. “That won’t be necessary. Lady Eleanor
and Lady Katherine are waiting for me. I will see you on the morrow.”

“Unfortunately, it seems I must delay the ride I promised you,” Sir John said.

“Oh?” She couldn’t completely hide her disappointment. He’d promised to take her for
a ride tomorrow and bring Davey along. Of course, he’d left that part out. Clearly,
he was trying to stake some kind of claim, as if he’d sensed something between her
and Sir Kenneth.

But there was nothing between them. There couldn’t be.

“Something has come up,” he explained. “I will be away from the castle for a day or
two, but I promise we shall go as soon as I return.”

She didn’t need to look at Sir Kenneth to see him tense. She could feel the anger
radiating from him in hot, powerful waves. She was beginning to feel like a meaty
bone being fought over by two snarling hounds, and she’d had enough of it. Neither
man had a claim on her.

But a tiny voice in the back of her head told her that wasn’t completely true. And
the longer she stayed here, the more danger she was in of Kenneth discovering the
truth. She had to leave. But where could she go? And what of Davey? They’d only just
begun to get to know one another again.

Feeling as if her world was being ripped apart all over again, Mary fought the urge
to run and started slowly away. But she’d taken only a few steps when his voice reached
out to snake around her.

“Lady Mary.”

She gave a cautious turn over her shoulder.

He smiled. A smile that twisted through her chest and
coiled low in her belly. “I look forward to renewing our
acquaintance
.”

She felt the gasp rise in her throat and only barely managed to prevent it from escaping.
She could only hope her expression gave no hint of the panic surging in her chest.
She nodded, as if it had merely been a polite comment, as innocuous as it sounded.

But it wasn’t polite or innocuous. His meaning rang clear to her. The moment she passed
through the entry of the Great Hall, she started to run. Only later, when she’d reached
the safety of her chamber, did she remember her attendants.

Twelve
 

By the time they neared the place in the royal Ettrick Forest where they would “surprise”
Bruce’s men who were lying in wait to attack the supply cart from Carlisle, it was
taking everything Kenneth had not to give Felton the fight for which he was so obviously
clamoring. During the long ride west from Berwick Castle, Percy’s champion knight
took every opportunity to insult, discredit, and argue with him about every facet
of the mission.

Kenneth knew he should be used to it. Hell, he’d heard far worse from MacKay over
the years. And after the past few months of nonstop prodding by the other members
of the Highland Guard, he’d thought he had a steel rein on his temper and ice in his
veins.

He did. Except, it seemed, when it came to one subject. Each time Felton mentioned
Lady Mary—which seemed to be in every other sentence—Kenneth could feel that steel
rein start to slip between his fingers. The muscles in his shoulders were so knotted
with tension, he’d developed a damned crick in his neck.

If Felton was to be believed, they were as good as betrothed. And if Felton’s relationship
with the young earl was any indication, it was probably true.

David Strathbogie, Earl of Atholl, had come along as one of Percy’s squires. At dawn,
when they’d gathered in the courtyard to depart, Kenneth had taken one look at Lady
Mary’s young son and had argued against it.

“It’s too dangerous for the lad,” he’d said to Percy. “He would be a valuable prisoner
if something were to go wrong and Bruce’s men were to get hold of him.”

It was the truth. Hell, Bruce would love to get his hands on the young Earl of Atholl.
So why was he trying to prevent it?

Percy had seemed about to agree when Felton interrupted. “If Sutherland is telling
the truth, the danger should be minimal.” His voice left no doubt as to his thoughts
on the matter. “If he isn’t, I will watch out for the lad. He won’t come to any harm
under my command. He’ll stay in the rear, well protected and well away from any danger.
Besides, the lad is ready to see action beyond the practice yard, aren’t you, David.”

The solemn lad with his mother’s startling blue-green eyes had looked uncertain, but
at Felton’s praise he puffed up considerably. “Aye, my lord,” he said to Percy. To
Kenneth, he cast an unfriendly glare. “I’m ready, and I should like to be there to
see the usurper’s phantoms captured.”

The lad sounded so bloody English, it was hard to believe his father had died for
that “usurper.”

Kenneth hadn’t known the previous Earl of Atholl well, but from the way he was spoken
of amongst Bruce and the Guard, Lady Mary’s former husband had been a fierce patriot,
gallant knight, and skilled warrior. An honest-to-God hero, Kenneth thought, not knowing
why his jaw was clenched so tight.

In any event, Felton’s recommendation and the boy’s eagerness proved enough for Percy.
“ ’Twill be good experience for the lad. I was his age when I served as squire in
my first battle. Just keep a good eye on him, Felton.”

Felton nodded as Percy rode forward and cast a smug look of victory at Kenneth.

It was to David that Felton spoke of Lady Mary during the long day of riding, but
Kenneth knew it was more for
his benefit than the lad’s. Felton was making his claim loud and clear. The boy seemed
thrilled by the prospect of a union between his mother and the lauded knight.

Kenneth, however, felt his blood growing hotter and hotter by the minute. His teeth
had been clenched for so long his jaw had start to hurt. If he didn’t know better,
he would have thought he was jealous.

Of a woman. How bloody ridiculous! He had his pick of just about any woman he wanted;
he didn’t need to trouble himself with
one
. Even one who made his blood rush hot just standing next to her.

The changes in her appearance should have made him happy. God knows it helped explain
his strange attraction to the lass. But he wasn’t happy about it at all. He wanted
her back the way she was, when he had been the only one to see the passion beneath
the colorless facade.

Suddenly, an image of her softly rounded bottom sprang to mind. Well, perhaps he wouldn’t
take back
all
the changes. The curves could stay.

He wasn’t jealous. The only reason Felton’s taunts were grating on him was that he
intended to teach Lady Mary a lesson and didn’t want anyone interfering.

Kenneth hadn’t forgotten how she left him, or how it cost him the battle with MacKay.
Her ready dismissal of him still grated. Both at Dunstaffnage and the day before.

“I’d almost forgotten.”

To a man whose first instinct was to fight, those words were like a gauntlet tossed
at his feet. A challenge he couldn’t resist. And this was a battle he had no intention
of losing. For a man who preferred to keep his challenges confined to the battlefield,
he was surprised by how much he was looking forward to it.

Aye, he was going to make her pay for all the trouble she’d caused him. First with
that delectable little body of hers, and then with her heart. By the time he was done
with her, she’d be looking at him like he hung the damned
moon. His mouth curled with annoyance, glancing at the riders behind him. Not unlike
the way her son was looking at Felton.

“How much farther?” Felton bit out, coming up beside him. “It will be dark soon, and
if this attack of yours is real, we should be getting into position. If this is some
kind of trick, I’ll see you hung by your—”

“Relax,” Kenneth said, as if he were pacifying an over-eager bairn. “We’re almost
there. If this is a trick, you’ll know soon enough.”

Felton flushed angrily. “Is that supposed to convince me?”

Kenneth gave him a hard look, letting some of the rage he’d been bottling inside show.
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything. I don’t give a shite what you think,
Felton. Hell, I’ve heard you boast countless times what would happen to Bruce’s phantoms
if you ever came face-to-face with one. Well, here’s your chance. If you’re worried
that you and half a bloody garrison of men aren’t enough to defeat a few rebels—”