Page 52 of How to Woo a Highlander

Tears sprung up in her eyes at such simple thoughts. It was not certain that everything in her life would ever be that simple again. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. It was no use crying at that point; she had already shed enough tears. Now all she could do was move forward.

She waited for a few minutes to ensure that the attention that had been on the tent had passed before crawling forward to push the tent flap slightly from the bottom, peeking out from the crack. She had never seen an army camp before and was not sure what she was expecting, but things were not as tense as she had thought.

There were soldiers everywhere, but they seemed relaxed, walking together in groups, cleaning their weapons, or casually standing around in discussion. They looked like people who were at ease rather than soldiers. She leaned away from the tent flap just in case someone glanced her way.

From what she had heard at the castle, the war had been a breeze for the enemy. All they had been doing so far was slaughtering defenseless people. Everything they did had been going so smoothly since Lain was on their side. It made sense that they were so at ease. Most of the soldiers seemed quite young, being around the age of the stableboy, Anderson.

The boys outnumbered the men, but she could not tell if this was normal. One thing was for sure; she could not escape from the front. Making her way over to the back of the tent, with a quick flick of her wrist, she slashed it just enough to peek through without making a hole that would become noticeable.

She put her finger through the slash and peeked out. She was not quite in the middle of the camp, but she was not in a secluded area, either. There were tents to either side of her, although considerably fewer soldiers were milling about. Straight in front of her, however, was the woods bordering the clearing the Grants had set their camp in.

The only way to escape would be to make a run for it straight into the forest. If I am lucky, I won’t be seen until I’ve made it to the treeline.

She leaned away from the slit and got to her feet. Would luck be on her side? It was true that she was fast, but it was not a good plan to just dash out in broad daylight. It was her only choice, however, as there was nothing else she could do. With no disguise or camouflage, she was a walking beacon for attention. All she could do was run.

* * *

Alastair was feeling all sorts of different emotions, but at the forefront of it all was anger. One thing he hated the most was deception, and Lain had taken the crown for that. His actions were the most heinous Alastair had been faced with, in all his twenty-seven years. He couldn’t help but wonder when it had started. How many of the smiles had been real, and how many had been covering malice?

He had known Lain since his teenage years and had considered him a friend for twelve of those. When he had come to the castle as William’s friend, Lain had accepted him with his friendly nature, making him immediately feel at home. He had always been so carefree and gave the impression that his only ambition was to be happy.

If he had not seen Lain’s betrayal with his own eyes, he would have had difficulty believing it. Although William had the utmost trust in his word and believed when he said Lain betrayed them, he had still looked confused. He was too, somewhere beneath all the anger. It made no sense that someone he had previously trusted so blindly would give the order for his death with a smile.

The problem was that he had never even considered that Lain would be capable of such a thing. He thought that he knew the man and was angry at himself for letting the betrayal happen right under his nose.

He had noticed Lain paying more attention the last time he’d been speaking to William about their war plans, but it never occurred to him to be suspicious. That was how much he trusted him, to the point that even when he noticed something different, it did not occur to him to be suspicious.

William’s gentle hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up to face his friend. William looked as regretful as he felt, the confusion and sadness evident in his eyes.

“I ken that ye are blamin’ yerself, but ye shouldnae. This betrayal has shocked all of us,” he said.

Alastair looked away. They had made camp in the forest after John Baxendale had treated his wounds, and the Mackenzie soldiers had joined them.

John Baxendale had left with an escort to go join up with his soldiers to attack the Grant clan from behind, blocking their escape out of the borders of Mackenzie. William had taken the soldiers to approach the enemy from the forest so that they could attack from the front, not allowing the Grant soldiers space to run.

William was also planning for Alastair to help find Jane while the battle raged, and the enemy camp was being attacked. Despite his injuries, he would do anything to find Jane. William knew this but still planned for a soldier to follow him just in case he ran into trouble.

Now he was sitting on a tree stump as the soldiers dispersed, making their way to their positions on the road where they were to wait for John Baxendale’s signal that the attack had begun.

“Remember, ye must all be in position so that ye can see the signal. If ye are in the forest, the trees will block out the sight. Once ye see it, one of ye must return here to notify us,” William had said.

The soldiers were furious that one of their own had betrayed them and left their lands open to attack. It was with that fury that they were preparing to fight. It would have been easy to have one soldier stand in wait for the signal, but Alastair knew that William wanted privacy to talk to him.

“It is me job to look out for the things that ye cannae see, William. In this, I have failed,” Alastair said, finally.

William let out an exasperated sound, letting go of his shoulder and paced within two steps of him.

“Lain was our friend, Alastair, since we were a bunch of stupid lads, going about life as all lads do. He has nae changed much since then, and if ye had been suspicious of him, ye would have been a bad friend,” he said.

Alastair looked away again. Somehow he could not stop himself from feeling responsible.

“Ye take too much on yerself. Ye are just a man, ye ken. It was takin’ to much on yerself that nearly got ye killed just now,” William added.

Alastair’s head shot up. William was giving him a meaningful look that made him feel embarrassed. He had been with Jane the night before and already told them that he spent the night with Jane. He had not been thinking clearly. He had confessed such a thing in front of Jane’s father, and William.

“I shouldnae have let ye go. I didnae notice that it was out of guilt that ye did this.” Alastair made to speak, but William raised a hand to stop him. “Dinnae even say otherwise because I ken ye. Ye took this upon yerself as a form of penance, did ye nae? Because ye are in love with Jane.”

Alastair could not speak. William was right; he had indeed taken on the mission as penance. Although it was out of duty, it was mostly penance, and he could not pretend it was not.