Page 65 of In the Highlander's Bed

His hand fell away.

She reached for it, placing his palm over her heart. “I had no right to ask.”

“You had every right, lass,” he whispered. “But I’m afraid of the answer.”

“Love me,” she begged.

“Ah, Constance, I do.”

She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him, never wanting to let him go.

He pulled her up to sit on top of him—and Constance pushed her fears away.

Tomorrow would take care of itself. Right now her only desire, her only purpose, was to love this man.

Tad’s barking woke them.

Then they heard Thomas outside the tent, “Gordon, wake up. Brian has returned.”

Constance rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. They couldn’t have been sleeping more than a few hours.

Gordon had come immediately awake and was already dressing. “Stay here,” he ordered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She wasn’t about to do any such thing, not when the messenger who held her fate in his hands had returned. She scrambled into her clothes, yanked on her moccasins, and, throwing the tartan over her shoulders, went outside.

The sun was just rising. Someone had built up the cooking fires. The men were gathered there. Constance went over and had to work her way to the center of the group. Thomas held a lantern to provide more light while Gordon leaned over an exhausted Brian. As she drew closer, she saw that Brian’s shirt was covered with blood.

Fifteen

The bleeding was coming from the side of Brian’s head. Constance was almost afraid to move closer. “I’ll fetch bandages,” she said.

“Fiona and Grace have already gone for them,” Gordon said, recognizing her presence although he didn’t look at her.

“I’ve bad news, Gordon,” Brian said, his voice frighteningly quiet. “The Duke of Colster and his men have been tracking me. They caught up with me just an hour ago.”

“Did Colster do this to you?” Gordon asked. “Did they cut your ear?”

“One of them did, the one tracking me. He had long black hair and wore a metal collar aroundhis neck. I saw him at Colster’s house in London several days ago. He jumped out of the woods at me, said he had followed me the whole way. He called Constance his sister by marriage.”

“Alex?” Constance said, surprised.

Everyone turned to look at her. She crossed her arms, sensing that her position in the camp had changed. “Alex Haddon is married to my sister Miranda. He’s half Shawnee. His father was an English officer. He owns sailing ships. He and Miranda left London months ago on a trading voyage. They must have returned.”

“Would he have done such a heathen thing as to cut Brian’s ear?” Sarah Kimball asked. She and most of the other women had come to join them. Their expressions were angry and worried. Several held their children close.

“Slicing the ear would be a Shawnee warning,” Constance said. “He would do it to create fear and make you wonder what could happen next. And, yes, Alex is a good tracker. He could follow Brian for days without him being aware of it.”

“I delivered your letter, Gordon,” Brian said. “I did as you ordered. I didn’t wait for an answer but handed it to the servant and left immediately. I never saw a sign of anyone following me.” He nodded toward the paper Gordonnow held. “He told me my ear was only a small part of what we’d have to pay if she’d been harmed.”

“Is he bringing an army?” Thomas demanded. Fiona and Grace pushed their way back through the crowd with the bandages. They knelt beside Brian, who was sitting, and began tending his wound.

Constance couldn’t prevent herself from saying, “I’ve seen ears like this. He’ll heal. The bleeding is bad but he’ll be fine.”

Fiona nodded, her eyes wide. Her hands trembled as she cleaned away the blood.

Again Constance could feel the shift of opinion moving away from her.

“I don’t know how many men he has,” Brian answered Thomas. “There was only him.”