Chapter 17

" O h my, that is an expression that doesnae suit such a beautiful face," called a voice.

Anna halted her march across the courtyard and slewed around, ready to give whoever had spoken a piece of her mind. She'd had just about enough of smart comments for one day. All she wanted was to lock herself in her room and shut out the world for the rest of the afternoon.

Duncan MacDonald was standing nearby inspecting his horse's hooves whilst a groom held the animal by a halter. Seeing her furious expression, Duncan held up his hands in contrition.

"My apologies," he said quickly. "Just having a wee bit of fun."

All the fight went out of Anna like air from a popped balloon. "It's fine," she said. "I guess I did have an expression like a thundercloud."

Duncan cocked his head. "Aye, ye could say that. Something piqued yer ire?"

Yes, and his name is Emeric bloody Mackintosh , she thought. The most infuriating man I've ever bloody met!

She sighed. "You ever have one of those days where you wish you hadn't bothered getting out of bed? "

Duncan snorted a laugh, his eyes twinkling and dimples forming in his cheeks. "Aye, often. Today, though? Today isnae one of those days. Today the sun has shone, I've won a contest of skill, and met a beautiful outland lass into the bargain."

Anna quirked an eyebrow. "That line normally work on the women, does it?"

He laughed again, a comfortable, easy sound. "Ah, ye wound me, my lady. It wasnae mere flattery, but the simple truth." He walked over and stood before her.

She could see why that line would work on the ladies. Duncan MacDonald was very attractive, with those dimples, bright eyes and messy blond hair that flopped over his forehead in just the right way to give him that tousled, just got-out-of-bed look. Oh, yes, he was good-looking all right. Trouble was, he knew it. And no matter his good-looks and easy charm, he wasn't a certain sandy-haired archer who left her breathless and furious in equal measure.

She gestured to the horse behind Duncan. "You're going riding?"

"Aye. We'll be leaving soon. My father and grandmother wish to be back at our keep before dark. Not my choice. If it were me, I'd partake of the Mackintosh's hospitality for the night." His eyes fixed on her. "Especially since they have such charming and intriguing guests."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Oh, really? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there's nothing intriguing about me."

"I fear the lady doth protest too much," he replied with a smile. "I suspect ye might be the most interesting person I've met in a long, long time, Anna Webster. "

"What on earth makes you think that?" Anna replied, feeling a little uneasy. She didn't want Duncan to think she was interesting. Or his grandmother, for that matter. It would be better if they both thought she was the dullest person they'd ever met and promptly forgot her.

Duncan shrugged. "There's a fire in ye, lass. It's there in yer eyes, even when ye are trying to hide it."

Anna gave a small, nervous laugh. "I think you're confusing fire with anger. And I'm not trying to hide anything."

"Perhaps," he said with a grin, "but I always did enjoy the challenge of a fiery woman."

Anna's eyebrows rose. "Oh. Is that right? Well, I'm sure there are plenty of fiery ladies around here that would enjoy the challenge too."

The banter was light-hearted, yet her unease deepened. Despite his easy-going manner, she got the impression that Duncan's words were more than just idle flirtation.

"Ye never did tell me," Duncan continued. "What set off that storm cloud of an expression earlier?"

A momentary flicker of hesitation crossed Anna's face as Emeric came surging into her mind. "Nothing important," she said with a wave of her hand.

Duncan watched her as though assessing her words, then gave her a curt bow and grabbed the reins of his horse from the groom. He paused, though, just before he swung into the saddle, turning back toward Anna.

"I'll bid ye good day, my lady," he said, his accent lilting over the words in a way that made them sound like a gentle caress. "And I hope I'll make yer acquaintance again soon. "

Then he vaulted into the saddle with an effortless grace that spoke of his expertise as a rider and with one last wink thrown her way, booted the horse into a trot through the gates.

She turned on her heel and headed towards the doors to the keep, but paused when a familiar voice shouted her name. Turning, she saw Emeric striding toward her and waited for him to catch up.

"Anna," he began, his voice a little breathless as he came to a stop in front of her. "What did Duncan MacDonald want?"

Anna crossed her arms. "Is that all you're interested in?"

"Of course not," he said quickly. "I... I came to give ye an apology. Another one." Emeric sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I fear I've made some poor choices recently. My temper... it got the better of me."

His admission was unexpected. He swallowed hard, the bob of his throat visible through the open collar of his linen shirt. His eyes were earnest as they searched her face, and she felt something warm race along her nerves.

She wanted to step into his embrace and feel the strong, reassuring presence of him. She wanted him to tell her that everything was going to be all right. She wanted...she wanted... She could barely put a name to what she wanted from him. And that terrified her. So she said nothing, unwilling to betray her tangled emotions.

"What...what ye said about yer family," he said after a moment. "About wanting what I have. What did ye mean?"

The question took her aback. She hadn't meant to say those things, but she'd been so annoyed with him that she hadn't been able to stop herself. She normally kept a tight rein on such feelings, unwilling to expose the core of vulnerability that lay behind them. She was Anna Webster wasn't she? Nothing ever upset her. She was a free spirit, wandering where her whims took her.

But she wasn't. Not really. She was Anna Webster, the lonely drifter, desperately searching for somewhere to belong.

Is it just yer friend ye are looking for? Or is there something else as well? Something ye've been looking for yer whole life but never known how to find?

She studied Emeric's face. What would be the harm in telling him?

You know what the harm would be , she answered herself. You will be exposed. You could get hurt.

But she no longer cared. She was tired of the weight of the mask she wore to keep others away.

She sat down on the step and leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees. From here she could see through the main gates of the castle to the Highlands stretching out into the distance. So different from everything she knew. Wild. Untamed. Alien. And yet... it felt more real to her than her own life sometimes did.

After a moment, Emeric joined her. He said nothing and sat close enough that they were almost touching, but not quite. She didn't know where to start. But she recognized the feeling she'd been struggling with ever since she came here.

"I'm jealous," she said at last. "Or envious, at least."

"Envious?" he asked in surprise. "Of what?"

She gestured vaguely. "Of this. Of everything your clan has."

He looked puzzled. "Ye mean the keep?"

She laughed at his bafflement. "No, I don't mean the keep." She picked up a handful of pebbles and began tossing them into the courtyard. They made a plinking noise as they landed.

"I...I didn't have what you would call a conventional childhood," she began. "I have no brothers or sisters and to be honest, my parents only had me because I was an accident. If they'd had a choice, I don't think they'd have had children at all. It was never in their life plan. A child only got in the way of their grand plans and dreams."

She was surprised at the bitterness in her voice. "They are both artists—well-respected ones actually—but respect doesn't earn very well and so we spent almost all of my childhood traveling around Europe. We'd stop in one place only until their funding ran out or their residency ended. I think the longest we stayed anywhere was two years and that was a tiny little island off the Greek coast."

She smiled wryly at the memory of the tiny white-washed cottage they had lived in. "I was happy there, as I recall. But it didn't last, just like everything else. After my dad's residency ended, we were off again. Amsterdam. Hamburg. Vienna. Toulouse. I lost count." She fell silent, her thoughts lost in memory. Now that she said it, she realized that to some it would sound wonderful, a whirlwind of a life, full of travel and adventure. Did she sound like some ungrateful brat?

"It sounds lonely," Emeric said .

She turned her head and found him staring at her, his sea-green eyes in shadow now that the sun had moved around to the west. Nevertheless, she could see the understanding shining in them.

"It was," she admitted in a voice barely above a whisper. "I never had the chance to make friends or put down roots. Everyone I met was a temporary acquaintance, everywhere we went was transitory. My parents palmed me off to a stream of ‘aunties' and ‘uncles' who were really just my parents' artist friends who had nothing better to do than babysit me while my parents were off doing their important work. And then I come here," she said, gesturing at the keep. "Where everything is so vastly different. Where everyone seems to know everyone else and you're all bound together with a web of loyalty and family that I can't even begin to get my head around. I thought this kind of life would stifle me. I thought these kinds of ties, all this...this...family...would send me crazy. But it doesn't."

She met his gaze. "You have a family that cares about you, Emeric. People who would do anything for you. You have a place to belong. I never thought I would be jealous of that, but I am. So that's why I had a go at you earlier. I shouldn't have done that. I have no right to judge you or how you get on with your family. So I'm sorry, too. I guess I'm just finding all this a little...overwhelming."

Emeric said nothing. Silence stretched between them, but neither looked away. Anna suspected she couldn't even if she'd wanted to. His eyes seemed to trap her like a fly in amber, and she wished she could read what was going on behind them .

Finally, he blew out a long breath. It was his turn to pick up some pebbles and start tossing them into the courtyard. "Ye dinna owe me any apologies, lass," he said. "Everything ye said was true. I am a spoiled brat. I do throw my family's regard back in their faces." He looked at her again. "And I'm sorry that ye had an unhappy childhood. I canna imagine what it must have been like to be so lonely. Here... here's it's the opposite. So many relationships and family ties and clan loyalties that it's stifling. It was too much for me, so I ran. I ran from my family and into the arms of the Order of the Osprey." His lips twisted in a wry smile. "But not for the reasons everyone supposes."

She cocked her head at him. "Then why?"

She saw pain in his eyes, that dullness that seemed to take all the life out of him. What was it that he carried so heavily on his shoulders?

"I canna tell ye," he said. "I'm not sure I have the words." His expression sharpened and he straightened, as though coming to a decision. "But I can show ye."

"Show me?"

Emeric nodded, a resolute expression crossing his features. He climbed to his feet and held out a hand to her. She clasped it and allowed him to pull her up. "Are ye up to a ride, lass?"

"A ride? Shouldn't you be attending the victory celebrations?"

He snorted. "I'm sure they'll do just fine without me. Besides, this is more important."

"I...um...yes...all right then. A ride where?"

"To see the truth. The truth of the lie that lies at the heart of this clan."

Giving him a sharp nod, Anna followed as he turned and led her to the stable. Plover was drowsing in his stall, but he came awake as he caught Emeric's scent, snorting a greeting and pricking his ears. Emeric rubbed him behind his ears, saddled him, and led him out of the stable.

Once in the courtyard, he helped Anna into the saddle, hung his bow from the saddle horn, and then swung up behind her. Plover shifted as she settled her weight but steadied at a word and a touch from Emeric. He reached around her to take the reins, his tanned, muscled arms enveloping her. She swallowed thickly, all too aware of his broad chest at her back, his breath tickling her neck.

"And where exactly do ye think ye are going?" Aislinn was standing on the steps of the keep with her hands on her hips.

Emeric winced. "For a ride. To get some air."

Aislinn's gaze flicked from her brother to Anna and back again. A mischievous smile curled her lips. "Oh, some air . I see. That's what ye are calling it now?"

"Oh, for the love of..." Emeric said, rolling his eyes. "It isnae like that. Just cover for me with mother and uncle, will ye?"

Aislinn waved a hand. "Of course, of course. Far be it from me to come between a man and his...ride."

Anna blushed scarlet at Aislinn's words, but before his sister could embarrass them further, Emeric clucked to Plover and guided him through the gates. Anna wondered what the guards thought of the two of them riding off together. Would tongues be wagging back at the castle? If Aislinn had anything to do with it, they no doubt would.

Let them wag , she thought.

Emeric set his heels to the horse's flanks and they were off into a canter, the wind whipping Anna's hair out behind her.

A wild, reckless euphoria swept through her. This was freedom. The wind, the sky, and this man to share it with. What more could she want?

ANNA'S HAIR TICKLED his neck and kept blowing in his face, but Emeric didn't mind in the least. The second they'd left the castle, he'd felt his burdens ease. The weight he seemed to constantly carry lessened and he found his heart swelling with a wild kind of joy. Out here, there were no expectations. Out here there was just him and Anna and right now that was all that mattered. He wished they could keep riding to the ends of the earth, just the two of them.

But he'd promised her the truth, no matter how hard that truth would be, no matter how it would scour him from the inside out and leave all his innermost demons exposed to her judgment.

She had trusted him enough to tell him the truth about her life, had shown him the vulnerability that lay behind her bravado. He felt honored by such trust. He knew how much it cost her, how difficult she found it to reveal the side of herself that hid behind the joking, the flirting, the sunny exterior. He would do everything he could to prove worthy of her trust, even if that meant exposing his own secrets .

But the thought terrified him. He'd not told anyone. Nobody in the clan. None of his sword-brothers in the Order of the Osprey. Not his mother, sister or uncle. Especially not his mother, sister or uncle. He understood all too well the devastation the truth would wreak on them. Better to carry it alone and in silence as he'd done all these years.

He gritted his teeth and rode on. It had been a long time since he'd made this journey—years—but still he knew the way. He would always know the way, like a ribbon of fire burned into his brain.

They skirted the village and rode around the southern shore of the loch. Those not invited to the victory feast were still making their way home following the games, most in high spirits, a few a little worse for the drink, but everyone they passed called out greetings and congratulations on his victory. He waved and greeted them in turn, though his mind was elsewhere.

"Are you going to tell me where we are going?" Anna asked finally.

She looked awkward and ungainly clinging onto the saddle. No horsewoman this one, and he had to admit he liked the way she leaned against him with the horse's movements, her back pressing into his chest. The soft sweep of her neck and shoulder were just within touching distance of his lips. All he would have to do was lean down slightly...

"Would it mean aught to ye if I were to tell ye?" he said.

"Try me," she replied, with a stubborn set to her jaw.

"A river settlement called Malrey. "

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Nope. You were right. Never heard of it."

He laughed lightly. "Well, that's our destination."

"Why? What are you going to show me?"

His jaw tightened. What indeed? "Ye are just going to have to trust me."

She arched an eyebrow. "You know you pull off the handsome, mysterious stranger rather well."

"Oh, so ye think I'm handsome?" he said, flashing her a grin.

"Don't let it go to your head."

"And mysterious, eh? I like the sound of that. But stranger? Nah. We havenae been strangers since the night of Oskar's wedding when ye dragged me up onto the dance floor whether I liked it or not."

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't enjoy it!" she replied. "That look of terror wasn't fooling anyone."

"I assure ye, the terror wasnae feigned. Ye are a very scary woman, Anna Webster."

She laughed lightly, a sound like the tinkling of summer rain or the ripple of a stream. It lifted Emeric's heart to hear it. "I know. It's one of my many faults."

"Oh?" he said, teasingly. "What are the others?"

She waved a hand. "Too many to list. But one of the worst is my penchant for getting involved with medieval highlanders."

"Aye, not a good habit to get into. It could land ye in trouble."

She glanced over her shoulder at him again. "I'll bear that in mind. "

Her gaze met his. Emeric swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words. Thoughts of their destination and what awaited them there flew out of his head and was replaced instead by the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Her presence dominated his senses. He could smell her light scent, feel the warmth of her against his skin, hear the soft hiss of her breathing.

He cleared his throat. "Aye. That would be wise."

She snorted, turned to face forward and Emeric was grateful. He hoped she didn't realize how aroused he was. The bulge in his groin ached something fierce.

He forced himself to concentrate on their road. They were passing into sparsely populated country characterized by peat bogs and wind-blasted grasses. There was not a tree in sight and the breeze picked up, hissing across the sparse ground like a vengeful spirit.

They rode straight into the belly of the evening with just the whine of the wind and the soft trotting of hooves on hardy soil breaking the hallowed silence. This far north the sun set late at this time of year and Emeric knew they had plenty of time to get where they were going and back again. As long as the weather held out.

He could feel a change in the air and, inhaling deeply, Emeric tasted the tangy promise of impending rain on his tongue. Dark clouds were gathering along the horizon, heavy with their burden.

"That does not look good," Anna observed. "I don't suppose you thought to bring an umbrella?"

"Sorry, no. I left my what was it?—Umbrella?—at home. We'll just have to pick up the pace and hope we outrun the rain."

He pushed Plover into a gallop and Anna squeaked in alarm, clinging to the saddle for all she was worth. Emeric took the reins into his right hand and put the other around Anna's waist to hold her steady. He was pleased when she didn't complain but merely settled back against him.

Anyone watching would think them just a couple out for a ride, just a man and his woman enjoying the evening. Oh, how he wished that were true. How he wished Anna was his.

But she was not his. He must never forget that. She was from another time and eager to get back to it. And him? He was eager to leave too, to get back to his sword-brothers and the life he'd chosen. Wasn't he?

The miles disappeared under Plover's hooves and the sun was nearing the horizon, the sky behind them turning black with storm clouds by the time they crossed a broad bridge over the river and reached Malrey. It was a prosperous settlement nestled along the riverbank, the lowering sun casting long shadows across the weather-beaten stones of the cottages that lined the bank.

Emeric pulled the horse to a halt and looked around. Something swirled inside him, something dark and cold and unforgiving. His earlier good mood evaporated at the sight of the settlement and apprehension replaced it. Apprehension and that tight, all too familiar sensation of anger.

He reached into the saddlebags, pulled out two plaids and handed one to Anna. "Put this on."

She took it. "Why?"

"Because we are in MacDonald territory now and need to look like MacDonalds. "

"But I thought they were your allies."

He snorted. "And ye saw today how shaky that alliance is. If the militia mark us as Mackintosh there's no telling what their reaction might be."

Anna swallowed then shook out the plaid and draped it over her shoulders, pinning it there with the brass brooch provided. It was too big for her but he hoped nobody would look too closely.

She glanced at the settlement. "So what now?"

"Now, we ride in and act like we belong," Emeric replied, his voice low and gruff. He threw a glance at the sky, the storm clouds growing darker still.

Taking up the reins, he nudged Plover into motion and they began their descent towards Malrey. The smell of damp earth and impending rain filled the air as they moved closer. A woman laden with a basket full of freshly baked bread crossed their path, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she regarded them. Emeric felt tension coil inside him but he forced himself to keep a steady gaze, not meeting her eye.

The village square bustled with activity. Children played tag between wooden carts filled with goods while men gathered around the local blacksmith's shop. Somewhere a dog barked while chickens pecked at the ground heedless of the gathering storm. It looked like any other prosperous Highland settlement.

Keeping his arm firmly around Anna, Emeric rode through the square, trying to blend in among the villagers who cast curious glances their way, but nobody accosted them. The road led out the other side of the village and along the riverbank until another house came into view. This was larger than the rest, attached to a mill right at the water's edge. A gently turning water-wheel sat in a mill-race that led off from the main river channel.

Emeric's stomach tightened at the sight of it and he hadn't realized he'd pulled the horse to a halt and was sitting staring until Anna said, "Emeric? What are you doing?"

"We walk from here."

He swung down from the saddle and then helped Anna dismount. She slithered ungracefully down but he caught her and set her on her feet.

"Damn," she muttered, glaring at the saddle and rubbing her behind. "My backside is not happy right now."

Emeric didn't respond. His eyes were still trained on the mill. "This way."

He led the horse off the path and began climbing the hill that rose behind the mill. Stands of trees provided the perfect cover and it was to one of these that Emeric led them.

Anna followed in silence but he could tell that she was puzzled by his caution. They reached a hazel thicket through which they could see the whole of the mill compound spread out at the base of the hill. Emeric tied Plover to a stout branch and led Anna to the edge of the thicket where he hunkered down, watching the mill below.

Anna seated herself in the grass by his side, a quizzical expression on her face. "What are we doing here?"

Emeric did not take his eyes off the mill. "Watch."

Around them, the rain finally started to fall, hitting the leaves with a soft pitter-pat. Emeric took no notice. That hot anger was burning in his stomach again, that dark sense of hurt and betrayal he'd carried for so long.

They waited in silence, the rain getting steadily heavier, until finally the door of the mill house opened and two children came bursting out. A boy and a girl, perhaps eight or nine years old, they squealed in delight as they began splashing through the rapidly forming puddles in the yard. They were followed quickly by a blonde-haired woman who shouted at them to come in out of the rain.

"Look at ye!" she called, putting her hands on her hips. "Ye'll be tracking mud all through the house!"

He heard the low tones of a man's laugh from inside the house and then a tall, sandy-haired man strode out. Emeric tensed.

"Och! A bit of rain never hurt anyone, Maeve," the man laughed. He stomped in the puddles with the children and then hoisted the girl off her feet, swinging her around until she laughed in delight.

Anna leaned close. "Who are they?" she whispered.

"They are my half-brother and sister." He raised a shaky hand and pointed at the sandy-haired man. "And that is my father."