“I am confused,” she said.
He rubbed his thumb over her silky skin. “About what?”
“Why would the Bruce bestow your father’s title and castle upon you when they were already yours to claim?”
“Because,” he whispered, the fury he’d buried all these years raging through his words, “once I was rescued and returned to Thorburn Castle, ’twas to discover the English had seized my home.”
Her fingers tightened on his. “Mary’s will, what did you do?”
Shame filled him, and he withdrew his hand. “Terrified, alone, and unsure of how to proceed, I fled. In the end, I was taken in by the Knights Templar.” He stared into the star-filled night sky. “In their teachings, I found a sense of peace, although the anger and grief refused to be silenced. I poured myself into training, used each crusade to hone my skills. Though my goal was to protect the Christians traveling to the Holy Land, ’twas mired in my need for revenge.”
* * * *
The horror of what Aiden had endured left Gwendolyn aching for him, and for the guilt he struggled to hide. “Anyone who had shared your experience would crave vengeance. That you rose above your grief, your fury, says much about you.”
He whirled, his eyes narrowing. “Dinna paint me a hero.”
How could she do otherwise? He had overcome insurmountable odds and had not only lived but had become a fierce warrior, a leader of men many admired,including her.
“With my vow given to the Templars, never did I expect to reclaim my heritage. If given the opportunity,” he continued, “I would sacrifice my birthright to save the Brotherhood tortured and killed beneath King Philip’s treacherous hand.” He abruptly turned and with long, ground-eating strides, headed toward camp.
Grief swept her at all he had endured, and she caught up to him and fell into step at his side.
At their tent, he halted.“Try to sleep.”
Gwendolyn moved before him, overwhelmed by all he had made her feel.“What of you?”
“I will make a pallet outside.” He stepped back. “Sleep ’til I wake you. In a few hours, once my men are in position, you will be escorted to the secret tunnel.” With a curt nod,he walked away.
An ache twisted in her heart as Gwendolyn watched him go, understanding Cailin’s reason for her to learn of Aiden’s past, to see all he had endured. He was a man who had lost his family, a tragedy that had dictated hisactions since.
And as for her…
The urge to call out to him, to beg Aiden to stay with her this night, wavered on her lips. She caught the flap of the tent, torn asto what to do.
His stride steady, his muscled outline faded in the night.
Gwendolyn’s fingers tightened on the fabric as she wondered if letting him go was indeed a mistake. On a shaky breath, she stepped inside the tent, settled on her pallet. There would be time after the battle to speak with her husband, to decide what she truly wanted, though warmth at thoughts of Aiden left nay doubt what she would choose.
* * * *
Enshrouded by dense fog Aiden crept forward, his every step on the sand, along with the handful of his men who followed, amplified. The deep rumble of the swells rolling up the beach echoed into the night, the raw smell of salt and night a potent mix. Sound carried a great distance in the mist, the reason he’d instructed his men to remain silent until he gave the order to attack.
Through the first layer of white, he made out the faint glimmer of stars, the claws of night upon the land firm within its grasp.
Glutted with pompous superiority, the English would believe themselves safe from an attack, more so at night. An arrogancethey would rue.
A short while later, with his men hidden below the cliffs, Aiden turned to where Gwendolyn had stopped paces away with the two guards he’d assigned to her. His heart ached at her fierce beauty, and he cursed that once the castle was secured, he must let her go.
She held his gaze, her mouth tight, her eyes filled withdetermination.
“After you are within the tunnel, stay there until you are told the fighting is over,” Aiden whispered. “Once I receive word you are inside, my men and I will row out and set fire to their ships. When they are ablaze and the English surge from the castle to save their fleet, my force will attack.” He paused. “Do you haveany questions?”
“Nay.” Gwendolyn stepped before him, her face white within the silvery smears of light. “I thank you for allyou have done.”
He fisted his hand, not wanting her thanks, but her. A desire, given his vow, that would never be. “Latharn Castle isfar from ours.”
Her eyes darkened with pride. “But ’twill be. Because of you.” She pressed a soft kiss on his mouth. “Know that I will pray for you.” Her voice broke onthe last words.
