The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel Read online

  Angus Og had a vast network of men along the western seaboard. Erik should know; he’d served as henchman to his cousin the Lord of Islay and one of the most powerful men in the Western Isles for nearly a decade, before he’d been tapped by Bruce for the Highland Guard.

  Erik had been reluctant to leave the service of the man who’d done so much for him. Only a lad of seven years when his father had died, Erik had been too young to protect himself from the manipulative, land-grabbing mechanizations of the MacDougall kinsmen who’d pretended to help him. It was Angus Og who’d protected him and his family and shown him the meaning of loyalty. It was Angus Og who’d made him a man.

  But his cousin had been insistent that he join Bruce, and Erik owed him too much not to do as he bid. It had also been a way to recover the lands stolen upon his father’s death by the MacDougalls.

  The struggle for dominance between the two powerful branches of Somerled’s descendants—the MacDonalds and the MacDougalls—dominated West Highland politics. Right now the MacDougalls, who’d aligned themselves with Edward, were favored, but that would all change when Bruce reclaimed his crown. Seeing John MacDougall of Lorn suffer would be just as satisfying as seeing Edward kicked back to England with his English tail between his legs.

  Erik could have tried to get the message through by boat, but it would be much simpler to swim—simpler for him, at least. The castle guards would be on the watch for a boat, but they wouldn’t be expecting a swimmer.

  He grinned. It would be unexpected. Dangerous. Extreme. Just the way he liked it.

  And it had worked. Last night he’d swum the two-mile divide between Spoon Island and Dunaverty and passed a message to one of his cousin’s men.

  As Erik approached the door of Meg’s house, he heard the muffled rumble of Duncan’s laughter mixed with the much lighter—almost girlish—tinkle of a woman’s. Not Meg’s, he knew instinctively, but Ellie’s.

  Something about the sound didn’t sit well with him. With a perfunctory knock, he pushed the door open.

  And stopped cold.

  Duncan had his hands around Ellie’s waist to lift her high in the air, as she reached for something on one of the large store shelves built into the rafters along the edge of the ceiling. But all Erik could see was his kinsman’s eyes fastened on her bottom, the surprisingly shapely curve of which was revealed all too clearly in the borrowed old leine, the linen thin from wear.

  Ellie and Duncan startled at the interruption. Duncan’s grip slid from around her waist, and Ellie cried out when he nearly dropped her. But Duncan managed to catch her in his arms before she fell to the floor.

  Bloody convenient, Erik thought, every nerve ending set at a blistering edge.

  Ellie’s look of surprise turned to amusement as she met Duncan’s gaze, and they both burst out laughing again. Ignoring Erik’s presence entirely.

  “I think maybe we should have gotten the ladder after all,” she said. Her eyes suddenly grew concerned. “Is your arm all right?”

  Duncan laughed. “My arm is fine, lass, just like I told you. I could lift a wee thing like you with one arm—injured or nay. You must give me another chance to prove it to you or my pride will be wounded beyond repair.” He gave her a wink. “Besides, this is much more fun than a ladder.”

  Erik almost felt sorry for his kinsman, knowing that Ellie was impervious to much more skillful flirting than his cousin’s feeble attempts at charm. Anticipating the set-down she was about to make, he was shocked instead to see a very maidenly blush stain Ellie’s cheeks.

  Erik would have been dumbfounded, but he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about ripping Ellie out of his cousin’s arms, and then perhaps driving his fist through Duncan’s crooked grin.

  His eyes narrowed on the other man. His mother claimed there was a resemblance between the cousins, but he didn’t see it. Duncan’s hair was darker, and Erik was at least two inches taller and had three stone of muscle on his younger-by-three-years kinsman.

  Ellie finally remembered he was there. She glanced over him—briefly—then gave Duncan a little nod in Erik’s direction. “Perhaps we should see what your captain wants before we try again?”

  Duncan didn’t appear to be in any hurry to set her down—until he met Erik’s gaze. With a puzzled frown, he reluctantly set her feet to the floor.

  Erik felt his blood cool—marginally.

  “Did you want something, Captain?”

  Erik bit back the inexplicable rage he was feeling toward his kinsman. “Why aren’t you at your post?” he snapped.

  Ellie stepped in front of him, and Erik would have laughed if the protective gesture didn’t irritate him so much. “It was my fault,” she said. “Meg asked me to fix a tincture for Thomas when he woke, and I couldn’t reach the rosemary hanging from the ceiling, so I asked Duncan to help me bring the ladder in from outside.”

  Duncan grinned at her appreciatively. “And I told her we didn’t need a ladder.”

  Since when had his only-think-of-battle cousin turned into such a rogue?

  “Duncan has been a wonderful help,” Ellie said.

  Erik could hear his teeth grinding together. I’m sure he bloody well has. “Unfortunately, Duncan is needed down at camp.”

  One of his cousin’s brows shot up as if he knew Erik was lying. “I am?”

  The look on Erik’s face must have convinced him. “I’m afraid the rosemary will have to wait, lass,” Duncan apologized. “But I’ll be back.”

  The hell you will. If Erik couldn’t trust his own cousin to control himself, he was going to be forced to watch the lass himself. He was the one responsible for her, after all. One kiss didn’t mean he couldn’t control himself. He’d merely been taken by surprise that such an ordinary lass could get him so … hot. He was sure the novelty had worn off.

  But when the door closed behind Duncan, the room suddenly felt very small. Ellie moved to stand before the fire, watching him, but she kept her distance, as if she sensed the strange energy in the room as well. Yet that only exacerbated the restlessness teeming inside him, as he could see the curve of her breasts and hips outlined in the light.

  He needed to get her more clothes. A nice, sturdy wool cotte would do.

  “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

  Realizing he was scowling, he schooled his features into impassivity. “Nay.”

  “Did you want something?”

  You. Angry at the intrusive thought, he said curtly, “To check on Thomas. Where is he?”

  Ellie pointed to the opposite end of the room, the place where bed nooks had been built into the side of the wall. “He’s resting. Meg said ’tis the best thing for him now.” Anticipating his question, she said, “Mhairi finally had her babe last night, and Meg has gone to check on her. A boy. Alastair, she’s named him.”

  “A good name,” Erik said. My father’s name. Many islanders honored their chieftains by naming their children after them. After years of MacDougall rule, the gesture touched him.

  She was watching him with a pensive look on her face. “You look different,” she said finally. “I’ve never seen you without your armor.”

  Self-consciousness was something Erik had never experienced before, but under her steady hazel gaze that didn’t miss much, he flirted with it now. He’d bathed and changed tunics because of the seal grease he’d lathered all over him for the swim—certainly not because of anything she’d said.

  “Alas, no gold to plunder or maidens to rescue tonight,” he said with a grin. “Even pirates take a night off every now and then.”

  One side of her mouth lifted.

  A start, he supposed.

  She took a few steps closer, and then to his shock, reached out and took the sleeve of the colorful dark-red silk tunic between her fingers. “It’s beautiful,” she said admiringly. For a strange moment, looking down at her tiny face in the firelight, she looked beautiful, too. His chest felt odd, as if his tunic had grown too tight. “The embroidery is exquisite.�€