not a bard performing for him.
Ronan stiffened as she approached the high table. He clearly saw her frustration at losing another sheet of vellum. But her words… she bemoaned that she could not find the truth of the plague. He stared down at the vellum clutched in his fingers and guilt grew within him. What if she was simply a healer? What if his actions worked against her and prohibited her from discovering the truth? What if he was the one adding to the agony of his people?
He had to get this vellum to Aidan. Surely together they could break the cypher and determine if the Sassenach was true. He hesitated, his gaze locking on her form as she approached, taking in her pallid face. Tears welled in her eyes. Her hand shook as she placed the now empty cup on the table. She staggered slightly and caught herself on the pillar that formed part of the alcove he hid within.
Damnation, he had not meant for her to get so close.
“Please, God,” she whispered , her voice tremulous. “Please let William survive this. He’s just a boy. Connell was so kind to me. He should not suffer this.” She leaned heavily against the stone next to Ronan’s shoulder. He could smell the fragrance she wore.
His heart lurched again but for a different reason. He recognized the scent. Heather. She was not nobility; she did not have exotic oils from faraway places. Instead, she did what most lassies of her age and breeding did, used a pressed oil of heather. Ronan could not stop himself as he inhaled deeply. On her, the scent was enchanting.
She squeaked in alarm and vaulted sideways. “Who’s there?”
“Milady?” Connell and Lachlan said at the same time. Connell gently placed William on his pallet and Lachlan stepped from his sentry point against the wall. Two braw lads followed his step.
“I know you’re there,” the Sass enach snapped. “Come out this moment.”
Ronan’s heart raced. He knew he would be discovered in an instant. But his first thought was that he not terrify his own people. Instead of trying to slip away, he drew a deep breath into his lungs and moved only partially from the alcove, remaining in shadow.
“Be at ease, Sassenach” he said, but even he noticed how his voice rumbled through the hall. “’Tis only the MacGrigor.”
His heart raced even harder when he heard the distinctive snick of a dagger leaving its scabbard. Ronan looked up and saw Connell striding forward, weapon in hand.
“Lassie, what vexes ye?”
Ronan then looked to his left. Lachlan also held a blade along with his young friends. Ronan’s gaze traveled even farther, and he saw Seamus and Ian help each other to their feet. They were unsteady, ready to topple any moment, but they would stand for the Sassenach before him.
She stared at him a moment, her face growing pale, but she swallowed hard and her shoulders straightened. To Ronan’s shock, she spun, exposing her back to him.
****
“Connell, hold!” she said and held up her hand. Dear God she was a fool. For the barest instant, she expected to feel a dagger plunge into her back. But one heartbeat passed, a second, and she found the breath returning to her lungs.
The Demon Laird stood behind her , but those in the hall could not see him clearly. To them, he was a part of the shadows.
They were only reacting to her fear. It was that fear she needed to control. Even though his voice had echoed around her like an ominous thunderstorm, they had not heard it.
“Lassie,” Connell said, his eyes narrowing , “pray, dinna move.”
She recognized the words from when the villager stumbled over them on the trail. Connell’s gaze examined the darkness behind her but did not focus. She marveled at the fact he did not see the giant looming behind her.
Her thoughts scrambled. This was the closest MacGrigor had ever gotten to her since she met him that first night. She worried if she announced his presence, he would vanish again.
“Connell,” she said gently. “ Peace, I’m
Ronan stiffened as she approached the high table. He clearly saw her frustration at losing another sheet of vellum. But her words… she bemoaned that she could not find the truth of the plague. He stared down at the vellum clutched in his fingers and guilt grew within him. What if she was simply a healer? What if his actions worked against her and prohibited her from discovering the truth? What if he was the one adding to the agony of his people?
He had to get this vellum to Aidan. Surely together they could break the cypher and determine if the Sassenach was true. He hesitated, his gaze locking on her form as she approached, taking in her pallid face. Tears welled in her eyes. Her hand shook as she placed the now empty cup on the table. She staggered slightly and caught herself on the pillar that formed part of the alcove he hid within.
Damnation, he had not meant for her to get so close.
“Please, God,” she whispered , her voice tremulous. “Please let William survive this. He’s just a boy. Connell was so kind to me. He should not suffer this.” She leaned heavily against the stone next to Ronan’s shoulder. He could smell the fragrance she wore.
His heart lurched again but for a different reason. He recognized the scent. Heather. She was not nobility; she did not have exotic oils from faraway places. Instead, she did what most lassies of her age and breeding did, used a pressed oil of heather. Ronan could not stop himself as he inhaled deeply. On her, the scent was enchanting.
She squeaked in alarm and vaulted sideways. “Who’s there?”
“Milady?” Connell and Lachlan said at the same time. Connell gently placed William on his pallet and Lachlan stepped from his sentry point against the wall. Two braw lads followed his step.
“I know you’re there,” the Sass enach snapped. “Come out this moment.”
Ronan’s heart raced. He knew he would be discovered in an instant. But his first thought was that he not terrify his own people. Instead of trying to slip away, he drew a deep breath into his lungs and moved only partially from the alcove, remaining in shadow.
“Be at ease, Sassenach” he said, but even he noticed how his voice rumbled through the hall. “’Tis only the MacGrigor.”
His heart raced even harder when he heard the distinctive snick of a dagger leaving its scabbard. Ronan looked up and saw Connell striding forward, weapon in hand.
“Lassie, what vexes ye?”
Ronan then looked to his left. Lachlan also held a blade along with his young friends. Ronan’s gaze traveled even farther, and he saw Seamus and Ian help each other to their feet. They were unsteady, ready to topple any moment, but they would stand for the Sassenach before him.
She stared at him a moment, her face growing pale, but she swallowed hard and her shoulders straightened. To Ronan’s shock, she spun, exposing her back to him.
****
“Connell, hold!” she said and held up her hand. Dear God she was a fool. For the barest instant, she expected to feel a dagger plunge into her back. But one heartbeat passed, a second, and she found the breath returning to her lungs.
The Demon Laird stood behind her , but those in the hall could not see him clearly. To them, he was a part of the shadows.
They were only reacting to her fear. It was that fear she needed to control. Even though his voice had echoed around her like an ominous thunderstorm, they had not heard it.
“Lassie,” Connell said, his eyes narrowing , “pray, dinna move.”
She recognized the words from when the villager stumbled over them on the trail. Connell’s gaze examined the darkness behind her but did not focus. She marveled at the fact he did not see the giant looming behind her.
Her thoughts scrambled. This was the closest MacGrigor had ever gotten to her since she met him that first night. She worried if she announced his presence, he would vanish again.
“Connell,” she said gently. “ Peace, I’m
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