Furious, she struggled to break free. “One would think men Patrik believed would help us would be pleased to find out that he lives.”
Firm hands held her tight.
“Let me go!” she demanded.
The warrior above Patrik turned. Cobalt eyes held hers, narrowed with evaluation. He nodded.
Without hesitation, the men’s strong grip loosened.
Free, she rushed to Patrik’s side and knelt. Fresh bruises lay atop those darkening to an ugly purple. She glared at the fierce knight whose gaze held hers without apology. “Touch him again and I will kill you.”
Surprise flickered upon the warrior’s face; then shrewd eyes studied her, his mouth tightening another degree.
Patrik gave a rough cough, shoved himself up on his elbows, trembled. “Alexander, the lass who is threatening to kill you is Mistress Cristina.”
The intimidating knight’s eyes cut to Patrik. His nostrils flared. “How can you be alive? I saw you die!”
A shiver cut through Emma as she tended to Patrik’s shoulder. “How could he have watched you die?”
Regret settled on Patrik’s bloodied face. He scanned the men before him. “Th-The lass knows nothing.”
Nothing? She tore a strip from her gown, secured it atop a deep wound. What in God’s name was going on? “If you have not noticed,” Emma said, amazed at the control of her voice, “Patrik is seriously injured. With so much blood lost, I am unsure how he still breathes.”
The knight introduced as Alexander offered little compassion.
Anger flared within her at the knight’s silence. “I know you not but—”
“Brothers,” Patrik whispered. “They are my brothers.”
“Brothers?” Her hands stilled upon another torn strip of her gown. His name was Patrik Cleary, not MacGruder. Sir Cressingham had told her so, as had Patrik when they’d first met. How could they be brothers?
Fighting for calm, she noted a resemblance between the three newcomers, but little to Patrik. But, with no man disagreeing, it must be true.
God in heaven! The MacGruders were known, feared by the English. And Patrik was their brother?
“My full name,” Patrik said, “is Patrik Cleary MacGruder. After th-they believed me dead, I no longer used the surname MacGruder.”
“The arrow you found in the cave?” she asked.
“’Tis Duncan’s,” Patrik replied.
The blond-headed man gave her a curt nod.
“Brothers?” The fierce knight grunted. “He deserves not the claim.”
Emma narrowed her eyes at the fierce warrior, her shock smothered by anger, regardless of his name. “He should not talk.”
“He is lucky talk is all he receives,” the formidable knight stated.
“Cristina, me-meet Sir Alexander,” Patrik whispered.
The black-haired man’s hard eyes fixed on her. He nodded.
The noble strode forward, his green eyes clear, their intensity unnerving. “Seathan MacGruder, Earl of Grey.” He nodded at Patrik. “Aye, you have the right of it; he should not be speaking.”
Words failed her. God in heaven! This powerful Scottish lord and personal advisor to William Wallace, a man as well respected as feared, was Patrik’s brother? Aside from those who led the rebellion, only two men had ever attained such a revered status,WulfeandDubh Duer.
ExceptWulfeandDubh Duerwere men who shielded their identity behind the fable of a name. From Sir Cressingham she knew Patrik wasDubh Duer. Whispers claimedWulfewas an English lord who had joined the Rebel cause.
