Page 7

Chapter

Seven

N iall didn’t even realize what he’d done until MacKinlay pulled his horse next to him. He’d seen the Clan MacBrannigan men and rode to her, positioning himself between Lady Avelina—Lina—and the warriors.

By now, all four of them, including his brother, had moved in front of her, but he’d made it too obvious at the start. Earning a glare from MacKinlay, one he deserved, Niall said nothing as the enemy clan approached.

Words were not needed.

Clan MacBrannigan neighbored Clan Mackenzie to the north, and though the two could not be considered allies, neither had they met in open battle.

Unlike his clan and MacKinlay’s, MacBrannigan’s chief was unapologetically ruthless, though the fact still did not account for Niall’s instinct to shield a woman who was also his enemy.

“You hide the lady as if we mean harm,” one of the men—there were four—said as they approached. Though Niall and the others had ventured off the old Roman road into the grassy field beside it, they were still too close for his comfort.

“Be on your way,” he said, not caring that MacKinlay continued to show his annoyance.

“We mean to do so,” said the man in the lead. “But I find it curious to see you”—he nodded to MacKinlay—“riding beside the men who slaughtered your clan.”

“I am the chief of Clan MacKinlay and will thank you not to speak of my ancestors.”

The first man whistled. “Chief, aye?”

Niall was finished with this discussion. “Move along, or we will ensure it.”

He said it low enough that it took a moment for the words to penetrate. When they did, MacBrannigan did not take kindly to the threat. However, Niall did not take kindly to their presence.

“My brother will not hesitate to engage you,” Kieran said. “Mind that as you consider your next move.”

The men looked back and forth between all four of them. Thus far, Fergus had remained silent, which was surprising given he’d been anything but in the hall.

“We seek no quarrel,” the smallest of the four, riding in the back, said.

“Move on,” he added, and surprisingly, the others listened.

He’d not been the one Niall would have expected to command the others’ movements, but sometimes, ’twas not the loudest voice or biggest man, but the smartest among them who commanded respect.

Clearly, they respected their clansman, because even though they had been one breath away from reaching for their swords, all four of them abandoned the thought and rode away.

“They are a long way from home,” Fergus said when the men were no longer in hearing distance. So, the man did have a voice. Then he said to Niall, his tone accusatory, “You provoked them.”

“Better to provoke them than say nothing.”

“I can protect my sister.”

That, from McKinlay.

“I can protect myself,” she responded. Niall angled himself to see her. Indeed, he’d spotted the bow at her side and assumed she carried it for a reason. So, the woman was proficient with a bow. The fact did not surprise him.

“There is a river there.” Kieran broke the tension, which had risen high after the altercation, by pointing northwest. “Perhaps we should water the horses and take a wee reprieve.”

Niall would prefer to keep riding—the sooner they got to Glencloy, the sooner he could be away from his companions. Although, there was one companion, if he were being honest, Niall was not so ready to part from.

Without answering, he followed his brother toward the river.

Eventually, he heard the sound of the horses behind him.

The others silently joined them, though slightly upstream, as the riding party watered and fed their mounts.

By the time Niall returned from relieving himself and opened the saddlebag, pulling out a dried piece of meat, Lina was gone.

When she did appear through the thicket once again, Niall did not hesitate.

Her clansmen otherwise occupied near the riverbank, Lina, eating what appeared to be a slice of bread, stood near her mount. As he approached, she lifted it. “Baked this morn,” she said. “Packed dutifully by my maid, who considers things I would not.”

“Such as food for the journey?”

“Aye. Why did you move in front of me on the road?”

Though not prepared for the question, he should have been. Lina MacKinlay was no modest maid. “I do not know.”

Her head cocked to the side. “We are enemies,” she said as if Niall were not aware.

“Aye,” he agreed.

“Why, then, does my blood not boil as it should when you are near?”

Her boldness fascinated him. Niall had met no other like her. “Perhaps because you are so enthralled by me,” he said, matching her boldness with his own, “that you forget to hate when I am near.”

She seemed to consider his words.

“’Tis perhaps the same reason I moved to protect you when nothing should have been further from my mind, for many reasons.”

“Such as?”

Her brother watched them.

“You are my enemy.”

“That is all?”

“And you’ve clansmen to protect you.”

“You forget, Niall, that I can protect myself. I do not bring my bow for decoration.”

He took two steps toward her despite the glares of both her kinsmen. “Yet, your bow was not at the ready.”

Her lips were fuller than any he’d ever seen before. What would they feel like gliding over his own? How sweet would the taste of Lina’s tongue be? He would dearly like to find out, despite the fact he could not. Would not.

“I did not deem it necessary.”

He smiled. “So you have seen many skirmishes, then, to know when ’tis necessary?”

“I’ve traveled with my brother, aye.”

“And have you used your bow to injure or kill a man?”

“No, but I have used it to defend myself. And would not hesitate to drive an arrow into the neck of any man who threatened me or my kin and clan.”

He did not doubt her words. “Why are you proficient with the bow, Lina?”

Her chin rose. She would not tell him, though Niall could guess at the reason. If his father and half his clan were slaughtered, he’d wish to do the same even if ’twas unusual to do so. He’d seen women wield a bow and arrow or even a sword but rarely. “Why did you come over here to speak to me?”

“Why do you not send me away?”

The answer to both was so obvious yet unbelievable at the same time. Niall was attracted to the sister of his clan’s greatest enemy’s chief. Attracted in a way that was both unrealistic and dangerous. But in matters of the heart, such things often mattered little.

“I would do so if I were able. But it seems my lips refuse to form the command.”

Oh, this woman. . .

“Why do you smile so?” she asked. “As if you are reluctant to do so? Is smiling not encouraged in your clan?”

“I do so less than most,” he admitted.

“Why?”

He felt the surprising desire to be honest or, at least, as best he could. “I’ve learned that emotion is unreliable.”

She made a very unladylike, adorable sound. “I’ve not heard something as ridiculous as that before in my life.”

“You have your opinion, and I have mine.”

“What happened to make you believe as much?” Then, before he could answer, she added, “So you do not trust emotion?”

“I do not.”

“Do you have them?”

“When I’m unable to stop myself.”

Lina shook her head. “You are a most curious man, Niall Duncraig.”

“You are a most curious woman, Avelina MacKinlay.”

Their gazes locked. Neither of them turned or even, it seemed, breathed. He could see the rise and fall of her chest but tried not to notice that particular area too closely. Though it was difficult, out of the corner of his eye, not to do so.

“We had best be off.”

Niall’s brother approached, clearly worried about the fact that Lina’s kinsmen stalked toward them looking as if they might have something to say about his extended conversation with the woman.

Indeed, a most curious conversation. He’d expected them to discuss the MacBrannigan men or the weather, not the reason for his disdain for emotion.

Or to admit, which they had basically both done, that they wished to be in each other’s presence despite that they should both want just the opposite.

“Niall?”

Just before her brother arrived, he allowed himself to be pulled away.

“Aye,” he said, following Kieran. But a backward glance confirmed what Niall had suspected. Lina still watched him with a curiosity and appreciation she did not bother to hide.

“You play a very dangerous game,” his brother said, noticing the direction of his attention.

“I do,” Niall admitted. “One I should end this very moment.”

“You should,” his brother agreed. Then, with a very loud, very long sigh, Kieran added, “But you will not.”