Highland Escape (14 page)

He’d shown understanding of her situation. He’d been gracious, and did not seem to mind overly much when she bested him in training. Anna chuckled. How many men could say the same? She knew from experience male pride could take only so much of a beating. If she were to categorize him? She realized she needed a new category. He didn’t fit within any she knew. Remembering Nessa’s question brought her thoughts to heel.

“No, he is not.”

* * *

Anna felt a building excitement as Duncan addressed his father.

“Da, Anna and I have discussed how she might find a role with the clan, and wanted yer opinion.” Duncan’s statement garnered everyone’s attention, including those within earshot from the lower tables.

The laird nodded and glanced at Anna to continue.

“Duncan suggested I might assist in the training and care of the horses at the stables.”

The corners of the laird’s mouth crept up. “Is that all? Such work, while unusual for a nobly bred woman, doesnae require my permission.”

“Duncan also suggested I take on the more serious healing cases, particularly those requiring surgery. We spoke to Fiona. She is eager to relinquish such duties, as she prefers her midwifery tasks.” She looked to Duncan.

“If allowed, Anna would need a place to work. I thought she might use one of the store rooms off the main hall until needed for fall.”

Glancing over the faces at the table, Anna saw this request pleased everyone. Their approval warmed her.

“What an excellent suggestion,” Nessa chimed in, beaming her approval. “’Twould give me the opportunity to continue to learn from her, if ye allow it, Da.”

Anna smiled, remembering the questions as Nessa watched her tend her own wounds. Fascinated, she’d begun a journal based on their discussions, listing various herbs, their uses and doses. She was a quick learner, apparently enamored by the topic.

MacGregor frowned at Nessa’s declaration. “Yer mother and I will speak about what assistance would be appropriate for a young maiden.”

Nessa smiled and nodded obediently. Amused by their exchange, Anna knew with a certainty she would have not been nearly as submissive with her own father.

* * *

After the ladies retired from dinner, Duncan sat before the fire with his father to sip whisky and discuss matters of the clan. His da didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood, which gave Duncan time to mull over his questions and try to understand why Anna had him so knotted up.

“Da, what are yer plans for Anna?” Duncan stared intently at the flames, not yet ready to meet his father’s keen gaze.

Kenneth seemed to carefully consider his question. “Why do ye ask?”

Duncan kept his face toward the hearth, but darted a glance at his da. “Taking her as yer daughter, do ye mean to form an alliance with her marriage?”

An edge of the laird’s mouth twitched. “Nae. She is not my blood. I have no authority to do such unless she asks. She still has living kin. Besides, do ye see her marrying against her will? I wouldnae wish such a fate on any man.”

“Aye, I have thought the same.” Duncan squirmed in his chair, and rubbed the back of his head.

“Has she agreed to stay?”

“Not yet, but I plan to convince her.” Duncan’s words sounded more confident than he felt.

Kenneth turned slightly toward him, a smile pushing its way onto his mouth. “And how do ye plan to do that?”

“I intend to take her to wife.”

Kenneth tossed his head back in laughter. Vexed at his reaction, Duncan waited for his father’s mirth to subside.

“Do ye think she would make a good wife?” Duncan faced his father, curious as to his answer.

Kenneth sobered. “I think there isnae much the lass cannae do. She could very well be yer greatest joy and yer greatest frustration. She willnae submit to any man easily. You might have an easier time fighting dragons.”

Duncan frowned, staring into the contents of his cup. “Mayhap the key will be not seeking her submission as if she were a common woman.”

The laird studied his son’s face for a moment. “Why Anna?”

Duncan exhaled deeply. “’Tis a good question. One I have mulled over since the day I laid eyes on her. Each day the list grows longer as I discover more of her character. I could name her virtues—most ye have seen, the rest ye have heard. There is something there when I look at her. It defies logic, or anything I’ve encountered before.”

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I cannae get her out of my mind. I think about her scent, her smile, about being around her all the time. I am content to simply watch whilst she grooms her horse. I dinnae have a name for it, but ’tis like a strong thirst. I cannae get enough of her.”

“Does the lass feel the same way for ye?”

“I dinnae know what she feels.” Duncan sighed and closed his eyes as he considered how to broach such a topic with her.

“So she no longer wishes to run the two of us through?” Kenneth’s tone, while teasing, held a measure of sincerity.

Shaking his head, Duncan opened his eyes, his lips turned downward. “Nae. I dinnae think she hates us any longer, but she doesnae trust us, either.” He shifted in his chair, ready to change the subject. “We sparred together today.”

Kenneth’s brow rose to his hairline.

“I found a secluded place to train. We worked with swords for many rounds. She bested me often, though ’twas close.”

The laird’s grin snapped back into place. “
She
beat
you
in combat?”

“Aye, she did fairly, several times.” Duncan found he didn’t mind any longer. He wondered if there was a man among them she couldn’t defeat in a fair fight. Maybe Duff. “I wondered what ye think of me bringing her to train with the men.”

This brought Kenneth’s brow back down, furrowing. “Ye may not mind being bested by a woman, but plenty of men will, marked as warrior by her clan or not.”

“I know, but she has much to show us. I learned more this morning than I have in a while. Her tactics counter the advantages of strength. Such methods would be useful for the younger lads and older veterans. She also possesses knowledge of weapons I have never encountered before.”

The laird arched an eyebrow at this observation. “Have ye asked her where she comes by this knowledge?”

“Nae. I am trying to go slow. I dinnae wish to question yer decisions, nor argue again, but her first days with us have made all of this more difficult.” Exasperated, his hands splayed wide. “I am working on earning her confidence and friendship. She spoke at length about why she cannae go back to England.”

The laird grunted. “So, ye want a wife who can challenge ye in combat?”

“Aye, it seems I do. But only if ’tis Anna. You care not she has no dowry? That marriage to her would bring no alliance?”

“Ye are a good son and a fine man. At five and twenty ye know yer own mind. In a few years I will take my place on the elder council, and ye will become laird. ’Tis yer duty to marry and produce an heir. In all these years I have yet to see yer head turned by a lass. This one has not merely turned yer head, but has it spinning atop yer shoulders.” His chuckle made Duncan squirm like a lad.

“Whether ye recognize it yet or not, ye have lost yer heart to her. Yer mother and I agree on this and will support yer decision to wed Lady Anna, though I dinnae envy ye the task.”

Duncan gave a smirk in response, hiding his stunned reaction.
Lost his heart to her?

They sat in silence, staring at the fire while the whisky flowed. A weight pressed on Duncan’s chest as he considered his next question.

“I wish to speak of something painful for both of us, if ye allow it.” Duncan looked his father in the eye, waiting for his father to offer a slight nod.

“Anna’s presence has disrupted me in more ways than I can count. Each seems to be more challenging than the next. I dinnae understand why she has me thinking of Callum. ’Tis almost as if he has risen from the grave to haunt my thoughts.”

Kenneth stiffened at the mention of his dead son’s name.

Duncan sighed. “We willnae speak of it if ye wish.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“Yer brother’s death deeply affected us all, but no one was more profoundly changed than ye. Ye have borne the guilt of it, though ’tis not yer burden to carry.” The laird raised a hand to stop the argument Duncan prepared to mount. “Ye became a sober lad afterward with a strong sense of responsibility. Whilst an outwardly admirable trait at a young age, yer mother and I believe the loss robbed ye of yer youth. I cannae pretend to know what it meant to lose a twin. The two of ye were closer than any I have seen. I only know what it was like to lose a son and feared what his death would do to my remaining son.

“Ye developed a keen need to protect all those who are dear to ye. ’Tis a characteristic that will help ye become a strong laird. I believe this fierce connection ye feel with Anna, along with her plight, calls to ye in a powerful way.” Kenneth paused then shook his head.

“She has endured significant loss and is adrift,” he concluded. “Those things combine to inspire in ye a protectiveness so forceful ye risk scaring her away. With her, ye have found a kindred spirit not unlike the one ye lost. Perhaps she has as much healing to offer ye as ye have to offer her.”

Duncan rose and embraced his father. “I am sorry.”

Kenneth grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, meeting his eyes with a measured intensity. “’Twas never yer fault.”

Duncan turned away. Of course it was his fault.

Chapter 11

Anna felt Duncan’s hand on her shoulder, asking her to wait as she gathered her weapons to leave the practice field. The now-familiar warm tingle from his touch tempted her to distraction. To counter the effect, she grabbed his hand and stepped to the other side of his body, applying downward pressure as she dropped to a knee, twisting away. As swift as a hawk diving for its prey, her action caught Duncan off-guard. He flipped in the air, landing on his back with a satisfying thump, struggling to regain his breath as he flopped about like a landed fish. Unable to help herself, Anna burst into laughter. Duncan clambered to his feet, his eyes wide with shock.

“How did ye do that?” His breathing labored.

She quelled her mirth enough to answer. “’Tis easy. Mayhap I will show ye some time.” She mocked the burr of his accent, flashing him a mischievous grin.

Duncan stared at her in disbelief. “Anna. Tell me, how did ye do that?”

Pulling herself under control, she replied, “I will show you another day if you wish. ’Tis not hard. I thought you only wanted to train weapons.” She walked toward her horse. Glancing over her shoulder, she faltered at the intensity of his stare.

Duncan closed the distance between them and took one of her hands in his. He rubbed the skin of her palm with his thumb, sending a shiver chasing through her whole body. She grabbed his hand with both of hers, twisting it outward into her favorite wristlock. He dropped to his knees immediately, his face contorting with pain.

“Saint Filan’s teeth! Ye are trained in unarmed combat, too?”

Her mischievous grin grew wicked at his acknowledgment. She released his wrist and stepped back. “Of course. Are not you?”

Rubbing his arm as he rose to his feet, Duncan looked at her with awe. “Anna, I am a head taller than ye, and outweigh ye by at least four stone. How are ye able to bring me to my knees with such ease?”

Climbing on her horse, she answered, “Unarmed combat tomorrow if you wish, Sir Duncan.” Her teasing tone rang clear. Training with Duncan was much more enjoyable than training with her brother, Edrick. For one thing, she didn’t want to kill him all the time.

Though they were plenty competitive with each other, Anna found herself protective of him, as much as Duncan seemed protective of her. She certainly sustained fewer bruises and scars than when she trained with Edrick, though her sparring with Duncan proved as fierce. And there was an odd feeling whenever they drew close, which intensified upon contact. She’d known nothing like it before and didn’t know what to do about the sensation. It seemed foolish to mention such a thing to Nessa or anyone else. However, each time they touched, she longed for more.

* * *

Spring gave grudging way to summer. Anna met Duncan at the stables early, as they did every morn. His face was rueful.

“Anna, I apologize for missing our sparring, but I need to meet with the smith.”

She shrugged. “No bother. I planned on spending time with Fiona after our training.”

She watched until he left her sight, then glanced about for a way to fill her time. She ventured outside the stable, slipping her weapons into place, leaving her armor in the keep.

Gazing at the beautiful day, Anna decided to walk. ’Twould do her good. Sore from yesterday’s workout, she needed to stretch her legs. After a painful start, Duncan had finally been able to throw her a number of times. He proved slow to learn the subtleties of off-balancing before a throw. She found Duncan to be like most men, thinking physical strength the answer to any obstacle.

Though the thick grass cushioned her landings, Anna’s muscles protested from repeated impact. She recalled the look of satisfaction on his face when he finally threw her, his expression that of a little boy, pleased to learn a new trick. A faint smile played about her lips.