“Be gone from my sight,” he snarled, his amusement short-lived. “And when I say nae tae disturb me, take heed on what I say.”
The servant gulped, his Adam’s apple jerking nervously up and down his throat. “Aye, of course, master. I willnae bother ye next time.” He slowly backed away, his palms outstretched and facing Fingal. “I swear it!” Then before Fingal could reply, the servant turned and ran as if hounds were set upon his heels.
Flinging the door shut, Fingal listened to the satisfying thud.
“Now we can get back tae work,” he said, walking to the window. Then looking down at his pet, he began to stroke its head with his fingers. “She’s in the forest yonder. Find her.” He stretched out his arm, and launched the bird into the air.
CHAPTER 10
“I believe that I spooked ye at the riverbank,” Adrina said. She wanted to ignore the incident all together, but something inside of her insisted that she explained her behavior. She felt a flush of heat rushing to her cheeks as her thoughts journeyed back to the intimate moment. What must he think of her?
Duncan had placed another branch into the pit. Crouching next to the fire, he blew at the embers in an attempt to reignite the flames. She had left the campfire so abruptly that they were lucky that the fire still smoldered.
He glanced up from his task and gave her a long look. The expression in his mesmerizing green eyes was unreadable.
“I’m nae certain what came over me,” she continued, fixing her regard on the flames that licked eagerly at the burning logs.
It was impossible to talk about her visions without making herself appear as if she had lost her mind. Usually when an impression appeared, it came instantly and faded just as fast. But in this case the image of Duncan was as clear as day. And that black shroud that covered his likeness wasn’t derived from her imagination. A shiver went through her as she recalled the darkness falling down, and spreading over the scene like a disease. She was so certain that danger had befallen him. Who would believe that she saw all this in a screen of smoke?
The fire started to cut out, and Duncan adjusted the dried branches until the flames lit once more. When he glanced up, his was gaze serious.
“Ye lied about your father sending ye tae Tancraig Castle, didnae ye?” he asked, ignoring her discomfort.
Adrina bit her lip, wanting to lie to him, but she thought better of it. “I made that up,” she admitted. “But ‘twas for a good reason. My people are suffering, and I needed tae do something tae assist them.” There. That was valid enough. He didn’t need to know about her extrasensory abilities, or how she was guided to his castle.
His eyes gleamed as if he tried to decipher whether or not she spoke the truth. Under his unwavering gaze, she shifted in her seat while an uneasy feeling churned in her stomach.
She took a deep breath, deciding that she needed to change the topic. Men were always willing to talk about warfare and strife, and perhaps talking about combat strategies would take his attention off of her.
He began to thread the carcass on a stick, and placed it on a makeshift spit that he had built. The game began to sizzle over the heat, releasing the fragrant smell of cooking meat.
“Tell me, Duncan, why do ye feel that converging at Bracken Ridge is an effective strategy? Perhaps ‘tis a fool’s errand if we battle with King Harold at all. Didnae ye say that he has numerous knights at his disposal? Many highlanders will be sure tae lose their lives.” She clasped her hands together, expecting him to offer her long and passionate justification for why they needed to fight the English.
But he surprised her by falling silent. For what seemed a long time, he stared at the steam rising from the roasting hare. All the while, a shadow played across his handsome visage, and he appeared as if he was lost in a dark and distant memory.
“They must be stopped,” he said at last, his voice low and fierce. “Even if it wasn’t at the Ridge, and we’re up against thousands of knights, we would continue tae fight. We cannae allow them tae wreak more havoc on our kin. Nor can we allow them tae enslave us.”
“Aye, ye have already stated this,” she said carefully. Stretching out her hand, she placed it on his arm. “But think of the widows —”
“The English must be squashed,” he interrupted. His gaze dropped to her hand, but he didn’t withdraw his arm. When he looked up at her, she saw pain and grief reflected in his stormy depths. “Every last one of them needs tae pay for what they did.”
A chill went through her. “There’s more tae this than protecting our bonny land, isnae there?” But he didn’t have to answer her question. She already knew that for him, this coming war was about vengeance.
“Ye would understand if ye witnessed how Brenda Cunningtoun and her family perished.”
“Brenda Cunningtoun,” she said softly. “Was she someone ye loved?”
He shifted his eyes back to the fire, and didn’t answer her.
“If ‘tis so, then a woman ye cared deeply for was harmed,” she concluded.
His head jerked up and for a split second, she saw unshed tears in his eyes. The shimmer reflected off of the fire light, and then it was gone, as if she had imagined the entire thing.
“Aye,” he said, his voice low. She felt the corded muscles in his arm lurch slightly as he clenched his hand. “I cared for her.”
She pulled her hand back and dropped it to her lap. At his tone, she felt her heart begin to ache even though she had never experienced a loss such as his.
“What happened?” she asked.
