“Are you too distracted to guard?” Dirk asked.
“Nay,” Keegan said, perhaps a bit too loudly. He wanted to kick his own arse for allowing Dirk to see he’d been distracted for a few seconds. No one had ever questioned his ability to perform hisduty.
“If you are, ’tis naught to worry over.” Dirk gave an almost imperceptible grin. “I ken how that can be. Take the night off.”
“I’ll guard the ladies’ tent.”
Dirk nodded. “I’m certain you will protect Lady Seona better than anyone else.”
Keegan was a bit ashamed he’d allowed a lass to ensnare his attention so completely that it was obvious to the chief, and likely everyone else. But what could he do about it? He’d already tried banishing her from his mind. It didn’t work. The more he told himself not to think of her, the more he thought of her.
The men allowed the fire to burn down to coals. With several lanterns around the perimeter of the camp, the guards could see if anyone approached.
Dirk disappeared inside his tent with Lady Isobel. Keegan couldn’t deny he was envious they got to sleep together when he could not… ever… sleep with Seona. How could he live never knowing what it would be like to hold her close and sleep with her the whole night through?
∞∞∞
In the darkness inside the tent, Seona pulled back the sleeve of her smock and placed her hand around the knife and sheath on her forearm. She’d been careful to hide it from Aunt Patience.
The leather sheath still held Keegan’s distinctive and entrancing male scent. The knife was like the man himself, sharp and lethal but also protective and comforting. He wanted to provide a way for her to protect herself when he wasn’t there. Her heart warmed.
But she didn’t want to think about him no longer being there, nor did she truly want to go home. Who would brighten her days with a single glance? No one had Keegan’s smiling blue eyes. Every time she looked at the summer sky, she would see his face. How would she survive? She couldn’t imagine life without him.
He had been within close proximity for many months. How could he not know how important he was to her? Of course, she didn’t have the courage to tell him. It would mislead him into thinking there could be something more between them than was actually possible. She would give anything not to be a lady at the moment… or the daughter of Chief Murray. Of course, the position came with certain privileges, but also heavy restrictions.
She pulled the sleeve of her smock over the knife sheath again. Her aunt could never see it. She would not approve of Seona carrying a weapon. Nor would she approve of Keegan teaching her how to use it, especially in private. Seona smiled, imagining Keegan giving her another knife-wielding lesson on the morrow.
∞∞∞
Haldane MacKay crouched behind gorse bushes next to Donald McMurdo and watched the lanterns flickering in the distance around the MacKay camp. “You kill Dirk and I’ll snatch Lady Seona,” Haldane whispered.
He could easily see the four tents and eight or nine guards patrolling the area. Half of them were obviously sleeping now so they could take a later watch. Dirk was canny to bring so many guards, but Haldane could be equally shrewd.
He glanced at the dark blue sky, seeing a scattering of wispy clouds, a full moon and a few faint stars. Summer evenings had a long period of gloaming and it would not be full dark for a while. Although Haldane was not known for his patience, he’d had to learn the virtue over the past several months since his infuriating older brother had taken over Castle Dunnakeil.
Once Dirk was dead and Haldane had Lady Seona in his possession, he would have everything he wished for—he would be chief of Clan MacKay and Seona would be his wife, as she was always meant to be.
“I like your plan,” McMurdo said, his voice raspy. His black eyes intensified in the dimness. “When I kill him, you will give me what I asked for, aye? What your father promised me.”
“Indeed. The tomb in the church will be yours.” Haldane still didn’t understand why McMurdo was so obsessed with being buried in Balnakeil Church. Sane or not, the man was a devious assassin. His long gray hair and pock-marked, wrinkled skin said nothing about his lethal cunning. The man was like a well-used, ancient sword—scarred and worn but he could still easily get the job done. At least, Haldane hoped he could. McMurdo had not yet succeeded at killing Dirk, despite a couple of attempts. The first time, everyone had thought Dirk was dead, but then he’d surfaced twelve years later. Haldane didn’t want that happening again.
“I want to see his dead body.”
McMurdo grunted. “How about his head on a platter?”
“Even better.” So long as Dirk was well and truly dead,Haldane didn’t care.
Nolan MacLeod slipped up and knelt beside him. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll take two men with me and head toward the tent where Lady Seona is sleeping,” Haldane said. “You go with McMurdo and kill the guard nearest Dirk’s tent so McMurdo can kill the bastard inside.”
“What about Lady Isobel?” Nolan asked.
“What about her? I don’t care.” Haldane knew Nolan had a bad itch for Isobel. The word was he’d almost raped her, but the lady had bashed him on the head and knocked him out. Haldane could understand his need for revenge, but he didn’t want Nolan botching the whole attack because he wanted retribution. Nolan certainly had no feelings for Isobel, not like Haldane had for Seona.
“What if she is carrying your brother’s heir?” Nolan asked.
Hell, he hadn’t considered that. If she was carrying a male bairn, that child would inherit the baron title and become chief when he grew to manhood. “She’ll have to die, too, then.”
