A few of the men patrolling the
barmkin
wall were staring at her, but she was too upset to care.
Upset? Nay, poleaxed. Crushed. Horrified. Her head still spinning with disbelief.
She was trying to decide what to do. Whether to march across the yard, knock on the barrack door and demand to see him—to Hades with propriety—when the door to the barracks opened and a group of soldiers came out, dressed in full armor.
Her heart lurched, realizing one of them was Arthur.
They were heading toward the stables.
He was leaving.
Leaving
.
Her fingers squeezed the railing until splinters bit into her hands. She stared at him, her chest burning with pain, a small part of her still not wanting to believe it.
As if sensing the heat of her gaze, he glanced up and jarred to a halt midstride. Their eyes met across the torchlit darkness.
He said something to one of the other men, then broke off from the group to walk toward her.
Drawing a deep, uneven breath, Anna started down the stairs, meeting him at the bottom.
Her breath caught when she saw his face.
It can’t be true
. How could he look at her with such concern and be planning to betray her?
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “I was worried when I didn’t see you earlier.”
He reached for her, but she twisted away. She couldn’t let him touch her. It would only confuse her further.
“I need to speak with you.”
The stiffness in her voice alerted him. His gaze slid to the stables where the men had disappeared. “I don’t have much time. They’re waiting for me.”
“You’re leaving ... without saying goodbye?”
The small tic below his jaw gave him away. It spoke of guilt.
“It’s a night patrol only. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Are you sure? Didn’t you warn me that you might not come back?”
His eyes scanned her face, and he seemed to realize something was truly wrong. Aware of the men patrolling around them, he took her arm and drew her toward the garden tucked around the far side of the tower, where they could not be overheard.
Turning her around to look at him, he gave her a stern look. “What’s this about, Anna?”
She lifted her chin, hating that he made her feel like a recalcitrant child. “I
know.
”
“What do you know?”
A sob rose in her chest but she tamped it down. Her words came out in a rush. “I know the truth. I know why you’re here. I know you were the one who saved me in Ayr. I know you’re working for
them.
” She practically spat the last, unable to say it. He was working for her family’s mortal enemy.
His face was still—too still, his features schooled in perfect impassiveness.
Her heart sank. Tumbled. And crashed to the floor. The lack of reaction was more damning than a denial.
“You are overwrought,” he said calmly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Don’t you dare!” Her voice shook, the emotion burning in her chest erupting in anger. “Don’t you dare lie to me! I saw you catch the spear this morning and break it over your knee. I’ve seen something like that only once before. Surely you remember coming to my rescue that night? A rebel spy pretending to be a knight? You took an arrow in your shoulder for it.” She wanted to rip off his mail and force him to deny it. “It’s the exact same place you have a scar.”
She paused for a denial, half-hoping for an explanation, but silence filled the dead air between them.
“I saw the map, Arthur. The map you let me believe was a drawing. It was taken off an enemy messenger.” She eyed him challengingly. “Perhaps I should call my father and let him decide.”
His mouth thinned in a white line. He grabbed her elbow and brought her closer to him. “Lower your voice,” he warned. “Just an accusation like that could get me killed.”
She sobered, her anger dissolving a little, knowing he spoke the truth.
He steered her toward a stone bench and set her down. “Don’t move.”
She bristled at the order. “Where are you going?”
He gave her a hard look. “To tell them I will be delayed.”
Think! Damn it, think!
Arthur took his time in the stable informing the men of his delay, while trying to calm the fierce rush of blood pounding through his veins. But every primitive instinct of self-preservation had kicked in, in response to the danger.
The worst had happened. He’d been discovered. Anna had figured out the truth.
He cursed his damned fool of a brother for tossing that spear—which had very nearly succeeded in skewering his head—and himself for being so careless with the map.
His mission had just gone to shite, and unless he could think of a way to explain, there was every chance he wouldn’t live to see another sunrise. He couldn’t think about what his failure might mean to Bruce. If he didn’t warn them, they would be marching into a trap. A MacDougall victory could turn the tides of war once more.
Though Arthur didn’t sense anything, his hands were on his weapons as he exited the stables, half-expecting Lorn’s soldiers to be waiting for him. But Anna hadn’t gone to her father. Yet. She was waiting for him on the bench where he’d left her.
He breathed marginally easier as he strode back across the courtyard, but still wasn’t sure what he was going to say.
It wasn’t just his mission and his life at stake. If there was ever going to be a chance for them, he needed to make her understand.
She didn’t look at him as he approached but stared silently out into the darkness, her face a pale mask of anguish.
He sat down next to her, never having felt more helpless. He wanted to take her into his arms and tell her it would be all right, but he knew it wouldn’t. He’d betrayed her. It didn’t matter that it couldn’t have been helped.
“It’s not what you think,” he said softly.
Her voice was thick with emotion. “You can’t imagine what I think.” She turned to him, her big blue eyes blurred with unshed tears, and he felt a stab of pain in his heart so sharp it made him flinch. “Tell me it isn’t true, Arthur. Tell me it’s all a mistake. Tell me you aren’t what I think you are.”
He should. What was one more lie on top of so many? He could try to deny it. Maybe he’d even be able to convince her. But he didn’t think so. She
knew
. He could see it in her eyes. And if he lied to her now, he would never have a chance to make her understand.
For them to have a chance, he had to tell her the truth.
He looked into her eyes. “I never meant to hurt you.”
She made a sound, a whimper of pain like that of a wounded animal—a fluffy, little kitten caught in a bear trap.
He couldn’t help himself. He reached out to touch her, but she jerked away.
“How can you say that? You used me. You
lied
to me about everything that was important.” Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. “Was any of it real? Or was making me care for you part of the plan?”
“What happened between us was real, Anna. You were never part of the plan. You were never supposed to be involved. This isn’t about you.”
“What is it about, then? Robert Bruce? The feud? Your father?” He clenched his jaw and she sucked in her breath. “It
is
about your father. You blame my father for his death.” She pulled back. “This is all some horrible, twisted attempt at revenge. Because your father died in battle you want to see my family destroyed, is that it? What do you plan to do, kill my father to avenge the death of yours?” She drew up in horror. “My God, you do.”
Arthur’s teeth gritted together. She made it sound petty. Simple. Yet it was anything but. Anna was blinded by the love she had for her family from seeing the reality of what was happening around her. He hated being the one to force her eyes open, but he didn’t have a choice.
“It’s your father that is going to destroy your clan, Anna, not me. Robert Bruce has done what none thought possible. He’s the best chance Scotland has of winning its freedom from the English. He has won the hearts of the people. But your father’s hatred and his pride have prevented him from seeing it. He’d rather see an English puppet on the throne. But the MacDougalls are standing alone, Anna—even Ross will submit.”
Her spine went rigid. “My father is doing what he thinks is right.”
“Nay, your father is doing whatever he can not to admit defeat. Do not mistake what this is about, Anna. Your father will see you all destroyed rather than accept losing.”
He could see the outrage burning on her cheeks. “You don’t know anything about my father.”
She tried to get up, but he grabbed her wrist and held her down. “I know too much about your father. I know exactly what he’ll do to win.”
She tried to free her arm. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you hear all of it.” He wished to hell he wasn’t the one to disillusion her, but he knew he couldn’t protect her from the truth any longer. “I didn’t tell you everything I saw the day my father was killed.”
“I don’t want—”
“But you will,” he bit in. “Even if you don’t want to hear it. I stood on that hill and saw everything, Anna. My father had yours at the point of his sword. He could have killed him, but he offered him mercy. Your father accepted terms—agreed to surrender—and then when my father turned his back, he killed him.”
Anna gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief and horror. “You’re wrong. My father would never do something so dishonorable.”
Arthur pulled her toward him and forced her to look in his eyes. “I was there, Anna. I saw and heard everything but could do nothing to stop it. I tried to warn my father, but it was too late. Lorn heard me and sent men after me, but I hid in the forest for a week. By the time I came out, it was too late to change his story. I wouldn’t have been believed.”
He could see her panic. Feel her heart fluttering wildly against his. She was fighting to hold on to any thread to preserve the illusions she had of the man she thought her father to be. “You must have misinterpreted what happened. You were too far away.”
“I didn’t misinterpret anything, Anna. I heard every word.”
He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Didn’t he? Her father had a bad temper, but she knew the kind of man he was.
She turned harshly away from him. “I don’t believe you.”
The pity in his eyes cut deeper than glass. “Ask him yourself.”
She didn’t say anything, refusing to listen.
“Your father will stop at nothing to win, Anna, nothing. Hell, he even used his own daughter.”
She stiffened, his accusation stinging. “I told you the alliance with Ross was my idea.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about using you as his messenger.”
She sucked in her breath. He knew about that? Oh God, had she unwittingly given him information? “When?” she breathed. “When did you find out?”
“Not until a few weeks ago—unfortunately.” His face turned fierce. “Damn it, Anna, do you know how much danger you were in?”
“Aye, but I never imagined the source.”
From you
. He was the enemy, spying on her and doing what he could to ...
She stared at him as all the terrible ramifications came tumbling through her mind. Suddenly, she jerked back in horror.
No, not that. Please
. Her stomach turned. “Why did you insist on accompanying me north, Arthur?”
“To keep you safe.”
“And to prevent the alliance with Ross?”
He met her stare unflinchingly. “Aye, if necessary.”
Pain lashed her heart so hard she choked on a sob.
“It’s not what you think. I didn’t plan for that to happen.”
The pain lashed inside her. She felt raw—bleeding. “And I’m supposed to believe you?”
His jaw clenched. “It’s the truth. What happened in that room was because I was half-crazed with jealousy, nearly out of my mind at the thought of losing you. I’m not proud of what I did, but I swear to you it wasn’t planned.”
“It just happened, is that it? And what about last night? Did that just happen too?” Her voice shook with the emotion flaying inside her. “How could you, Arthur? You knew what was going to happen eventually, and yet you let me believe that you cared for me—that you planned to marry me. But it was all a lie.”
How could she have been so foolish to have given herself to a man who was planning to betray her. To betray them all?
“Nay,” he said roughly, forcing her to look at him. “It wasn’t a lie. None of it was a lie. I—” He hesitated, as if the words didn’t fit in his mouth. “I love you, Anna. Nothing would make me happier than to marry you.”
For one foolish moment, her heart leapt as she heard the words she’d longed to hear. Words that should have made everything perfect, but instead made it feel even more wrong.
He was cruel. Telling her what she so desperately wanted to believe. He was probably just trying to manipulate her so she wouldn’t turn him in.
Turn him in
. Oh God, what was she going to do?
She had a duty to tell her father what she’d discovered. But if she did, she had no doubt what would happen: Arthur would die. And if she didn’t, Arthur would take whatever information he’d learned while spying on them and give it to their enemies.
It was an impossible choice, but even after all that Arthur had done, she knew that she couldn’t be the one to put the noose around his neck. One man could not defeat an army.
“You honestly expect me to believe you love me?”
He stiffened, but held her gaze to his. “Aye, I do. Perhaps I don’t have any right to do so, but it’s the truth. I’ve never said those words to anyone and never thought I would. But from the first moment we met I felt something special—I know you felt it, too—a connection I couldn’t resist.”
“What you felt was lust,” she said, throwing his words back at him. His mouth tightened. She knew she was pushing him, but she was too hurt and angry to care. “How can you expect me to believe you love me, when you’ve lied to me from the first moment we met?”
“What would you have had me do? I couldn’t very well tell you the truth. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Bloody hell, you were the last person I wanted to fall in love with.”