Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (the rosie project TXT) 📗

castle behind the half-built wall he had suggested for better defense. “There are two men awake through the night inside the fortress where they spy through the small musket holes for any movement in the bailey. Since they do not think of ye as much of a threat right now, there will be only two guards walking the half-built outer wall, on the inside, glancing through built-in holes.” He pointed toward the guard house. “Two men will be sitting up there with muskets, but they’ll know me when I ride up.”

She grabbed his arm. “Ride with me hidden behind you with a drape over me. I will press up close against you, and they will see only a blanket draped.”

He frowned. “Ye are not going to stay here, are ye?”

“No.”

If he left her there, she would probably sneak around the shoreline, encountering frigid water and an armed guard. If he brought her with him into the palace, he could have her stand guard over Fuil in the stable outside the keep.

“Ye may come if ye listen to me,” he said, his voice gruff.

In the diffused light from the cloud-covered moon, he saw her smirk. “I will listen to you because you have knowledge that will help me free Hilda as quickly as possible, not so I can gain permission to go with you.”

He sighed heavily and looked back over the top of the hillside where tall grass hid them. “Ye are armed?”

“Three blades on me.”

“I will have to make do with two, since my sword was stolen earlier,” he grumbled.

She didn’t say anything as they strode back to Fuil. He mounted first and then helped lift her to sit behind him. Would Robert’s men think it odd he had a blanket around his shoulders when he usually rode shirtless despite the cold?

Sliding her arms around his middle, Kára flattened her body against his back. Even her legs pressed along the backs of his thighs and calves. Body heat penetrated his tunic immediately, her enticing scent burrowing into him with each inhale. Memories of their naked bodies sliding against each other made his blood surge. Find the healer. In and out of the palace. Quick, silent, relaxed. Focus!

Twisting, he threw his heavy wool cloak around his back to cover them both. Kára’s fingers grazed his neck as she lifted it over her head to tuck it there. Her grip around his middle was strong as she drew as close as possible, her legs spread wide around his hips. He almost groaned with the feel of her straddling him, the crux of her heat pressed against his arse.

With a slight tap, Fuil started off across the moor leading to the palace gate. Arriving, he raised one arm up, fist tight, into the air, the signal that he was a friend and not to shoot. He recognized the man holding a torch up high. “Tuck,” Joshua called. “I am coming in.”

“Joshua Sinclair? What are ye bloody doing back here? I thought ye were on your way back to true Scotland.”

“I killed the boat captain when he tried to steal my horse. ’Tis very inconvenient.” Joshua felt Kára stiffen at his callousness. Hopefully, she knew he was putting on an act. Like I have my whole life. The dangerous thought thinned and disappeared as Joshua squashed it down inside with the other things that made him weak. Things like remorse and the faces of those he’d failed.

“’Tis not there another ship?” Tuck asked.

“Aye, on the morrow, but I tire of sleeping with my horse in the village. Is Jean within?”

Tuck grinned down at him. “Aye, she is likely abed. I cannot say if she is alone or not.”

“She will kick another out of her bed if she knows I am here.” Conceit was an easy role to play. Kára didn’t move behind him, but it felt like she might be pressing harder forward along his legs.

Tuck laughed, drawing the attention of the second man in the tower. Joshua nodded to Liam. “Come along inside then,” Tuck said. There was a portcullis, but since the wall was not completed, there was no need to close it for the night. Joshua kept as close to the shadows as he could and rode under the pointy maw into the bailey where the earl’s barn of horses sat off to the left next to hay and peat stacks, some under eaves, but most out in the open. Several men would be sleeping inside the barn, warriors who would rouse for their turn in the night watch. “Stay silent,” he whispered over his shoulder.

Fuil clopped into the barn. One man jumped up. “Who is it?” he called out.

“Stand down, Alec,” Joshua said. “I am bringing Fuil in for a bit while I retrieve something I forgot here.”

“Something important enough to come all the way back?” he asked, sleep in his voice. Joshua could see him wiping a hand down his face.

“My sword.”

“It was sitting straight down your back when ye rode out,” Alec said, suspicion lacing his words. Och, but Joshua didn’t want to kill the man. They hadn’t spent time together, since Alec devoted most of his free time finding lasses to bed in the village north of the palace where the families of Robert’s men lived.

“My short sword. I left it with Jean. I will be gone by morning, less than an hour if she is entertaining someone else.”

Alec rubbed his chin. “There is a stall open next to Lady Jean’s horse.”

Jean’s horse? Joshua willed Kára to remain still as he pressed Fuil to walk down the long aisle. He couldn’t dismount in the light of Alec’s torch or he would see Kára. Coming to the end, he halted Fuil in the corner full of shadows and twisted, grabbing Kára around the waist. His eyes remained on Alec while Joshua dismounted, holding Kára against him. Alec settled back into a clump of hay near the sliding doors. Two other men tossed and snored across from him. Kára