A Warrior's Promise (11 page)

“Give it time.” Glenna smiled, her full cheeks flushing. “My William did more grumbling and mumbling around me when we first met, until he finally admitted he loved me.”

“How long before he told you?” Charlotte asked, curious.

Glenna's grin grew. “Two weeks.”

“My da knew he loved my mum as soon as he saw her.”

Glenna nodded. “Love grabs hold hard and fast and won't let go. “Look at that dog of yours. He knew he loved you when he first saw you, and now he's yours forever.”

Charlotte smiled and rubbed behind Odin's ears. “That's true.”

“What of the Highlander? When did you know you loved him?”

“I don't love him.” she said indignantly.

“Fighting it are you.”

“I told you we barely know each other.”

“And you told me that your da knew he loved your mum when first he saw her,” Glenna reminded. “Are you like your father?”

In some ways she was; though when it came to love, she had no idea. She certainly found the Highlander appealing though she couldn't say she loved him. She did favor his company. And she certainly didn't care to think of parting ways with him; the thought actually upset her.

“Love will have its way, don't worry over it,” Glenna advised.

But how could she not worry over it?

Chapter 12

B
ryce was relieved Charlotte's tunic was mended. He didn't need any more distractions, and damned if her breasts hadn't distracted. It annoyed him that he couldn't get them off his mind. And it annoyed him even more that he found them appealing. He was usually attracted to more busty women, with wider hips, and tall, women more fitting with his own largeness.

Charlotte was nothing more than a wee bit of a thing. He had lifted her and tucked her under his arm without an ounce of difficulty, and carrying her as far as he had certainly had proven no chore. She just wasn't the type of woman he favored, yet she forever haunted his thoughts.

He kept walking, not looking back at her following, having left Glenna's croft over an hour ago. He had yet to warn her, and most strongly, that she was never to jeopardize her life for his again. It had been the second time she had done so, pushing him out of the way in the cottage as she had done when the soldiers had attacked. And while she had prevented him from harm and even possible death, she had also taken the risk of bringing both on herself.

The thought sent an icy shiver racing through him. He didn't want her suffering because of him. But more importantly, he didn't want anything happening to her. Or that dumb dog that had attached himself to her as well. They made a fine pair, they did, he being nearly as big as she was little. He did like that Odin protected her though she did the same for him. Now he would most certainly worry about her putting herself in danger for not only him but the dog too.

“Something troubling you?” Charlotte asked.

Bryce stopped and turned. “You take too many risks.” He shook his head again. That wasn't what he wanted to say. He rubbed his chin. Damn, but he didn't know what he wanted to say, how to say it, or why he even should bother saying it since no doubt she would pay him no heed.

She stared at him but said nothing. Odin did the same.

“Did you hear me?” He nearly shouted though he caught himself before he did and, instead, kept his tone stern. “You'll not be taking any more risks with your life to save mine.”

“Why?”

The one word shot from her mouth with the speed and force of the arrows she let loose from her bow, and when it hit, Bryce was almost compelled to take a step back. Instead, he took a firm step toward her.

Charlotte raised her hand, stopping him. “Say no more. I understand. It embarrasses you that a woman saves you from harm.”

He raised his hands, then stopped himself from reaching out and grabbing her. He noticed then that Odin was snarling at him.

“Quiet!” he commanded, snapping a pointed finger at the animal. The dog instantly obeyed. Bryce glared at Charlotte. “Why can't you obey like he does?”

“Odin's afraid of you; I'm not.”

“One of these days—”

“You will better understand the way of things,” she said, and stepped around him to continue walking.

He walked up alongside her. “I understand well enough. It is you who do not understand.”

“I understood the situation in the cottage most clearly,” she said, stopping and turning to face him. “You”—she poked him hard in the chest—“would have suffered a dirk to your back if I had not pushed you out of the way. If your pride was hurt, I'm sorry, but I reacted as I did to save you from harm though now I'm wondering if it was worth it.”

This time Bryce grabbed her and yanked her up, feet dangling, to plant her face in front of his. “You will not put yourself in harm's way because of me.”

“Would you do the same for me?” she asked softly.

Her breath was warm and sweet against his face and her words tender. His glance settled on her lips, slim, pink, and moist—perfect for kissing.

The thought startled him, and it took a moment for him to regain his senses, and when he did, he grew annoyed. “You need to ask me that? Of course I would do the same. I would never let any harm befall you.”

“Then why would I not do the same for you?”

“You're a woman.”

“And why does that matter?” she asked.

He set her down on her feet. “You are a strange one.”

“I am unlike most,” she agreed. “Is that bad? To be different? To be who I am?”

He felt a twinge of envy. He had been raised for one purpose, to help the true king. His life had consisted of constant lessons so that he could grow into the mighty warrior that he was. There had been little time for anything else; though he and his brothers had made time for folly, more time was spent on being who they were—warriors.

“I am a warrior,” he answered, as if it explained it all.

“You are so much more than that.”

“How do you know?” he demanded, as if he needed her to define it for him.

“I see it in your expressions and in your actions. You can't hide who you are.”

Her acute observations startled him though they shouldn't have. She had the remarkable skill of seeing people for who they truly were, though, with him and his brothers, that could prove dangerous.

And though he shouldn't have, he asked. “Who am I?”

“I will tell you what my father told me when I asked him that very same question,” she said. “That is not for me to say but for you to know, for if you need to ask it, then you have yet to discover who you are.”

“I know who I am,” Bryce protested.

“Then why did you ask me?”

He couldn't admit that he wanted to know what she thought of him, so how, then, did he answer in a way that wasn't as revealing? “Your observations are keen.”

“And you are curious as to what I think,” she said with a chuckle.

“Your wit is too sharp at times,” he said, annoyed. He should have known better than to think she wouldn't catch on to what he was up to.

“You knew this of me, but you asked anyway.”

“More the fool me.”

“Curious fools discover,” she said.

“More of your father's wisdom?”

“Wisdom helps find answers.” She continued walking, catching up with Odin, who had gotten bored and gone sniffing on ahead.

Bryce shook his head, trying to make sense of what she meant. He had been foolish for asking and foolish for being curious as to what she thought of him. It struck him then. Had he been looking at her to help him define himself more than looking for what she thought of him?

He was a warrior. What other defining did he need? He did what he had to do. What he had been raised to do. He had no doubt about who he was, yet he had asked her.

He pushed the annoying thought from his mind and marched forward. He'd waste no more time on such nonsense. He was foolish for having asked her in the first place.

She stopped abruptly and turned, forcing him to halt sharply.

“If the king planted one soldier amongst the peasants, then no doubt he planted more. We will need to be cautious.”

“I thought the same myself,” he said.

“And I didn't have a chance to tell you that my da passed Glenna's way—”

“Were the others with him?”

“It sounded as if he was alone, though I think Glenna purposely spoke that way, not wanting to alert the soldier that she spoke of the prisoners.” Charlotte grinned. “But more importantly, my da sent me a message.”

Bryce smiled. “He has no doubt you're searching for him.”

“And no doubt he leaves a message where and when he can.”

“What were his words?” Bryce asked.

“My da told her about his daughter who would not be able to hold her tongue if her life depended on it—”

Bryce burst out laughing, and through each burst, he said, “I can't wait to meet your da.”

“Now that I have entertained you, do you want to hear the message?”

Bryce settled his laughing though a chuckle let loose here and there.

“ ‘She knew the way to him' is what my da said.”

“You understand what he means?”

“I have thought on it, and I remember. When I was young, I wandered off away from my da and got lost in the woods. He found me huddled and crying beneath a large spruce. It was then he said he would teach me so that I would always know the way to him.”

“What did he teach you?”

“To follow signs, as I thought, but it's what signs he's using that I can't seem to spot,” she said frustrated. “I looked around Glenna's croft as we were leaving but saw nothing. And I've watched as we've traveled, and still I can see nothing.”

“It will come to you.”

“But I could be missing it, which means we could be traveling in the wrong direction.”

“So far we have managed to keep a good trail,” Bryce said. “And your father leaves messages when he can, and soon you will spot a marker that he has left. We do well, and we will continue to do well.”

Charlotte smiled, and a tingle wound its way around and through Bryce. He had seen her smile so many times before, but this time was different. This time he saw that she was pretty. Not beautiful, like some women, but simply pretty. And it was impossible to stop staring at her. There was softness to her features, a gentleness that belied her nature. It was as though he was seeing someone different, someone he had yet to meet.

“You're right,” she said.

She startled him out of his musings, and he wasn't quite sure what he was right about.

“My da would agree.”

Her da and he would agree. But about what? Try as he might, his mind was too befuddled by her lovely face to think straight, and it frustrated him. He had to keep his mind clear. There was his mission, besides finding her da, that needed his attention.

That was it, finding her da, doing well, on the right trail
. He almost sighed, his thoughts finally clearing.

They started walking, Odin keeping close to Charlotte, though sniffing ahead now and again.

“Where to now?” Charlotte asked.

“Another village about a day away that might prove helpful, and there are crofts along the way. Perhaps your da will have left more messages.”

“And if not, then we travel in the wrong direction.”

“Not so,” Bryce said. “Your da may not always have the chance to speak with someone. Remember, he is taking a chance when he does, and having learned something about your da from you, I'd say he also watches and chooses the right people to leave a message with.”

“You're right. Da would be watchful and choose whom he felt he could trust,” she said, and glanced over at him. “I have been selfish concentrating only on finding my da when your mission must be just as important to you. We have yet to learn anything about it.”

“Not true. We did learn there are other men being held captive with your father. Since the group is being taken to the king's secret prison, and from others things I've heard, there is little doubt left that one could very well be the spy. The king probably has plans to torture the poor man and see what he can learn.”

“Does this spy know much?”

“I'm not sure. My brothers and I have only recently learned of his existence. He wasn't sent by us.”

“Then by who?” Charlotte asked.

Bryce shrugged. “I have no answer to that.”

“It might be an answer you want to clarify. I know people have faced danger to help the true king seek the throne, but to spy on the king on one's own?” She shook her head. “That doesn't make sense.”

Bryce had thought the same himself when he started on this mission. His clan had had a spy in the king's court, Neil, and he had served them well. He was pulled out when it had gotten too dangerous for him to continue. While there, though, he knew of no other spy, but that didn't mean much since it would have been difficult to trust anyone, and it was better one didn't.

“Could it be a trap?” Charlotte asked. “Perhaps the king allows you to believe a spy exists so that he can capture someone of importance from your clan and discover what he can from him. From the gossip being spread, it seems the king grows ever more desperate.”

“Time is drawing close,” Bryce admitted. “Soon, the true king will need to reveal himself.”

“Perhaps the king hopes to capture him before he can do that, and so he searches for one close to him. It is a thought you should consider and not place yourself in danger for a spy who might not exist.”

“But if he does? What then? Do I leave an innocent man who believes in the true king to die?” He grinned down at her. “Besides, I cannot let you go off on your own.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He laughed. “It isn't you I'm concerned for. It's the ones who come across you.”

She laughed along with him, and damn if the soft, tinkling sound didn't wrap around him and send a tingling through him. It didn't rush but crawled along slowly until it consumed every inch of him. Along with it came a heat that stirred and grew uncomfortable.

He knew damn well what he was feeling, but he'd be damned if he'd acknowledge it. There was no way, no way that he would admit it. He'd stamp it down and ignore it and force it away.

He wasn't successful, no matter how hard he tried. His body was in control and refused to obey him, just like Charlotte refused. The thought of her didn't help his predicament. He grew hotter, more uncomfortable. And still he fought against the obvious.

He stubbornly refused to accept what he felt. It wasn't wise of him to accept it. It would only complicate matters more. He had no time for it. Besides, Charlotte wasn't what he wanted in a wife.

Wife?

Where did that come from? He wasn't interested in marrying her. What he was feeling was simply pure lust.

He cringed. Damn it, he had admitted it. Now he was in trouble.

He lusted after Charlotte.