Rise of a Legend (Guardian of Scotland Book 1) (17 page)

Eva groaned loudly. Wallace didn’t understand anything about her. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m here only because of you?” She scooted away from him. “I refuse stay behind at the monastery—and there is no way you will be able to force me.”

“Aye? I could hogtie ye and tell the monks not to release ye for a sennight.”

“Oh, right.” She crossed her arms. “That would be a humane thing to do.”

“Humane?”

“Nice, thoughtful, genuine, caring.” She took a deep breath. “Chivalrous.”

“Ye will never cease to befuddle my mind.” He stretched out his long arm and stroked her shoulder. “By leaving ye at the monastery, I am being all those things, especially chivalrous.”

She swatted his hand away. “No. You are being callous and demeaning and…and thoughtless.”

“But ye’ll be safer there.”

“Oh? Was I safe when you found me?”

He swiped his hand through the air. “That was different.”

She rolled her eyes in disgust. “Men are all the same no matter the century. They argue points only to the extent that they benefit their case—all other sides are superfluous even if they are relevant to an informed decision.”

“Och, your babble is making my head swim.” His eyebrows slanted over his angry glare. “I’ve a great deal on my mind and I dunna need a harpy addling my thoughts.”

“Is that so?” Eva pointed to the fur curtain. “Well, why don’t you go out there with your mates and sleep with them for the night?”

“All right then.” He scooted toward the exit. “I’d thought we could have spent one last night together, but if ye’d prefer to end it now…”

“Go.” She waved him off. Bloody hell, his heart could be as callous as his hate for the English. “Find a ewe to keep your bed warm if that’s what you want.”

He paused and stared at her almost as if he were fuming enough to take a swing. But with a groan, he just shook his head and turned.

Eva pushed her back against the far wall and watched William’s enormous form retreat. She clutched her arms tightly against her body. How in God’s name could she make that man understand? Talk about a generation gap. Holy hell.

Do I mean nothing to him?

Her shoulders slumped.
Just leave me behind at a monastery because I’m a woman? Who the hell has worked her tail off to fit in to this miserable mob of rebels?

Damn him!

He cannot leave me. I won’t stand for it.

The back of her eyes stung and she buried her face in her palms.
Dammit. I am not in love with him. I cannot be. Even if I was, just a little, it wouldn’t matter. I still have to go home eventually…but not now. Not when he is only beginning to rise to greatness.

The men roused early as the clatter of weapons began before dawn. Regretting the stupid argument from the night before, Eva wasn’t sure if she’d actually slept. Her head throbbed.
Oh to have a heavenly cup of coffee today
.

Before leaving the sanctity of her alcove, Eva pushed away the boulder hiding her stuff. She slid her roll of notes into her satchel, brushed her hair and smoothed wonderfully minty toothpaste over her teeth. William could be damned if he expected her to leave her things behind, and knowing a little about what lay ahead, she couldn’t be sure if she’d ever return.

After securing the satchel over her shoulder, she took one last look at the alcove and chuckled. “Never in a hundred years will I forget the passion shared in this tiny haven.”

She blew out the candle and placed it in her bag along with the flint.

The cave hummed with a flurry of activity. Men rolled up the furs and tied them with leather thongs. Brother Bartholomew lumbered across the uneven ground with his arms laden with pots and baskets. Eva hurried over to him. “How can I help?”

He inclined his head toward the back of the cave. “There’re parcels of oatcakes and bully beef. Fetch them and meet me by the pack mule. Miserable heathens didna give me enough time to prepare. I fear we’ll all starve.”

Wallace’s resourcefulness was one thing she didn’t doubt. “If I know William, he’ll find a way to feed everyone.”

“Dunna be so certain. He has more mouths to feed than ever before, lassie. Sooner or later, there’ll be too many.”

Eva chuckled and headed to retrieve the food.
Brother Bartholomew has no idea exactly how large this army will grow.

After collecting all she could carry, she headed outside. A horse sped toward her at a brisk canter. Eva dodged aside nearly dropping her armload of food. “Watch where you’re going.” Straightening her bundles, she looked both ways before taking another step. Though mud squished beneath her boots, only wispy clouds sailed above.

The entire clearing aflutter, shoulder-to-shoulder the men worked, helping each other tie their weapons and possessions to their backs or waists. She spotted the monk with the pack mule already laden with parcels. Brother Bartholomew beckoned her. “Come, lass. We’ve no time to dawdle.”

Eva huffed. In no way had she been wasting time. “Where is William?”

Bartholomew took the parcels from her arms. “How should I ken? He’s probably preparing to set out like all the others.”

She scanned the tops of the heads for Wallace’s exceptional height. “Will most of the men be marching, then?”

“They’re not fixing to crawl.” With a hearty shove, the monk stuffed the parcels of food into a cooking pot, somehow defying gravity as it hung precariously strapped to the side of the mule’s harness. “At least God has seen fit to hold the rain at bay for today’s march.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

“Hello, Miss Eva,” Robbie called from his horse. Lachlan rode double behind him and waved.

“Lachlan, how are your stitches?”

He pointed to the patch she’d sewn on his shirt. “They’re itching a bit, but not so bad it’ll keep me from fighting the English.”

She vigorously shook her finger. “You mustn’t do anything to tear the sutures or else it will take forever to heal.”

“Not to worry, Miss Eva.” He patted Robbie’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m riding today. It’ll help my skin grow back together.”

“Ha.” She sounded more like her mother every day. “The only thing that will set you to rights is time.”

“Och, dunna worry about him.” Robbie grinned. “He’s tougher than a badger.”

Eva strode toward them, noticing the quality of the youngster’s gelding for the first time. “You have a nice horse, Robbie. Where did you find him?”

He patted the bay’s neck. “This Galloway was me da’s.”

“You’re lucky to have a mount.”

The lad nodded. “I’ll be leading the cavalry soon.”

Eva gave him a wink. “Perhaps once your voice changes.”

“Och, I’m the chieftain of my clan now. Ye mustn’t continue to treat me as a child.”

Lachlan planted his fists on his hips. “Right. We’re old enough to carry a sword. We’re old enough to fight.”

Eva bit her bottom lip. Arguing with them would only encourage their misplaced ambitions and possibly make them do something stupid. So far, William had been good about keeping them away from the real danger. She had to trust that he’d continue to do so—especially since she knew Robbie would grow up to be the First Lord of Kilmarnock.
He must survive this
.

Eva smoothed her hand over the horse’s shoulder. “Was your father a knight, Robbie?” Though she knew the answer to her question, she had a point to make.

“Bloody oath he was. The most fearless knight in all of Ayrshire.”

“Well then, you must make him proud—live to see his legacy endures through your progeny.”

The lad regarded her with a serious, thin-lipped nod, then dug in his heels and rode away.

Brother Bartholomew stepped behind Eva. “Not to worry. Willy will look after the lad. ’Tis why he’s taken him under his wing.”

Eva sighed. “I thought no less.”

The ram’s horn sounded from atop the hill. William stood towering atop the crag like a champion, his hair blowing sideways, triumphant as a flag. An imposing sight he made, dressed in a hauberk with a surcoat sporting the St. Andrew’s Cross on his chest. The warrior cradled his helm under his arm, the hilt of his sword peeking over his right shoulder. Eva’s gaze swept down to his quilted arming doublet hanging below the mail, with his muscular legs planted firmly.

The hum of the crowd fell silent while the cool breeze swept through the clearing, giving her a welcomed chill.

Eva placed a hand over her heart. She’d never seen a more magnificent sight.

William moved a fist to his hip. “This will be a long day of marching, I willna argue that. But as ye travel, know that ye are on the path to meet our enemies. Together, we will drive Longshanks out of Scotland and demand our rightful king is restored to his throne.”

Cheering, the men thrust their weapons in the air.

“John Blair will lead us to Fail where we will meet up with the armies of the Douglas and the Stewart. Mark me, afore this year is ended, we will see a united Scotland!”

A deafening roar spread through the clearing.

Eva wished she could have taken out her smartphone and snapped a picture. It was far too risky—especially after meeting with John Blair’s threat.

Her heart thrummed with the roar of the crowd. The men’s excitement made her giddy—ready for adventure, and she didn’t want to miss a single moment of it. Not now—not for the next several months. If only she could run atop the hill and tell them exactly how much things were about to change.

But the men seemed to know. With John Blair’s whistle, the retinue began to move, the faces of the rebels determined, excited. Even Eva’s heart raced while she watched them pass.

Straightening her satchel on her hip, she strode to the rear of the entourage. William intended to say goodbye at Fail? The thought only made her more determined to find a way to stay with the rebels.

“Are ye planning to walk with the foot soldiers?” William’s deep voice resonated behind her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she regarded Wallace in his glory, mounted atop his great horse. The helm low over his brow gave him the menacing look of a hardened warrior. “I’ve nothing but my feet to carry me.”

He tapped his heels and walked his steed alongside her. “So ye want nothing to do with me now?”

She shook her head. “I don’t recall having said that.” If only they hadn’t argued—she hadn’t pushed him, they would have had at least one more heavenly night in each other’s arms.

“Come on then.” He reached his hand down. “I’ll pull ye up.”

But he’d insulted her—was casting her aside because of her gender.

Oh no, she wouldn’t give in that easily. Eva tucked her fingers under her armpits to keep them from his reach. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

He bent down and peered at her. “I ken, but I want a word.”

Eva’s insides squeezed. How this man could constantly look her in the eye and make butterflies swarm throughout her entire body, she couldn’t fathom. Jeez, she was twenty-seven. Regardless, she caved to his devilish look, reached up and he clamped his fingers around her wrist so she had no choice but to grasp his.

“I’ll swing ye up now. Are ye ready?”

“You’ll what?”

Before she could say another word, William hefted her onto the horse, smack dab between his thighs.

He wrapped his big arms around her and pressed his lips to her ear. “Ye all right?” His low growl softened her resolve a bit more.

“I think so.” She gestured to her legs, sideways across the horse’s withers. “Do I need to straddle him?”

“Nay, just hold on.”

The warhorse broke into a canter. Eva leaned into William and looped her arms around his neck, squeezing her eyes shut. “Where are we going?”

“I’m riding ahead a bit.”

Jostling in the saddle against an iron shirt of mail wasn’t half as romantic as the books made it out to be. But still, his warmth drew her in, and as she grew accustomed to the horse’s gait, she relaxed and opened her eyes.

Mm. At least William’s thighs certainly made for a comfortable seat.

The trees passed by in a blur, the horse splashing through mud puddles until William reined the horse to a walk.

Eva let out a long breath and leaned into him. She definitely preferred the horse’s stride when ambling. “Are we far enough ahead?”

“Should be.”

She craned her neck and met his blue-eyed gaze. So many emotions brewed behind his stare, but when he reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair beneath her veil, he smiled. A genuine, make-your-heart-melt type of grin. But it didn’t last. William scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. “Ye ken ye are fine to me.”

Oh dear, she’d heard breakup words before. Swallowing, Eva nodded.

“I have nothing to offer ye. No lands, no title, no wealth aside from a few groats in my purse.”

“I—”

He held up a palm to silence her. “Ye said now’s my time. Ye said I would lead an army of men and in my heart, I ken ye’re right.”

“Yes.”

“And I ken I cannot have a woman holding me back from what I must do. The only way to beat the English is to stay ahead of them—to attack when they least expect it—to outsmart and outmaneuver their armies.”

She hated that he thought her a burden. Dammit, she could work harder to prove her worth. “Yes, but—”

“I’ll not argue this with ye. My own feelings cannot take precedence over the needs of Scotland.”

“I know.”

“I cannot…” He regarded her. “Ye do?” The inflection in his voice rose as if she’d knocked him off guard.

She nodded. “I definitely do not want a husband. All I ask is to follow and be your chronicler. Brother Bartholomew needs help with the food and healing. And the greater your numbers grow, the more assistance he will need.”

Furrowing his brow, William blinked. “Ye are a quandary. What woman does not want to marry and bear children?”

“It’s complicated.” But right now, she wanted to hold on. This couldn’t be the end.

“What isna with ye? Ye’re nothing like any woman I’ve ever met.” He pulled the horse to a stop and kissed her forehead. “My mind’s made up, Eva. Ye will remain at the monastery. I couldna live with myself if anything happened to ye. I care for…” He shook his head and dug heels into the horse’s barrel, his lips disappearing into a line.

He does care. He doesn’t want to leave me.
Eva’s gut clenched into a knot. “If I stay at Fail, will you return for me?” she asked carefully.

“I can make no promises.” He kept his eyes on the path.

She swallowed against the thickening in her throat. “I know that, too.”

“Then why did ye ask?”

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”
Not yet
.

William wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He inclined his head and studied her face, his eyebrows slanting outward as if he were in pain. “Mayhap one day when this is over.”

But it will never be over—not for William
.

The horse slowed his gait.

Reaching up, Eva drew his face down and plied his lips with a kiss. Closing her eyes, she willed her emotion to pass through to him. Their physical connection spoke volumes about honor and respect and tenderness. She didn’t want to hear him say a word about the future. Blocking events to come from her mind, in this moment she wanted to savor him, fill her mind with William to ensure she would never forget. As his lips softened to her, she deepened the unhurried and languid strokes with her tongue, showing him the depth of her desire. William Wallace’s kisses were like a drug, his mouth greedy—in complete contradiction to his words.