The Recruit Read online

  Their eyes held, and all the emotions that he’d felt that morning five months ago, the stinging anger that had led to his loss of control and defeat, came rushing back. He stared at her like a hunter who’d just caught a prey that had been eluding him. Nay, a prey that had run away from him.

  But now she was his.

  His mouth curved in a slow, anticipatory smile. “Hello, Lady Mary. It seems we meet again.”

  And his voice left no doubt that this time there would be no escape.

  Mary had felt something odd swirling in the air all day. She’d arrived at Berwick Castle the night before, but she’d seen little of the men all day. Sir John had been late to escort her to the feast for the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, or Candlemas as it was also called. Sir Adam had arrived even later with Lord Percy and had given her an apologetic smile as he’d taken a seat on the bench near Gaveston—or rather, the Earl of Cornwall.

  The earl was known as being extremely sensitive to any lack of regard for his position. Even referring to him by the name Gaveston rather than Cornwall could be cause for disfavor. But when he wasn’t within hearing, many of the nobles refused to call him by the name of the earldom that had always been reserved for members of the royal family. The more titles and riches Edward lavished on his favorite, the more the other barons hated him.

  Though Lord Percy had answered the king’s call to muster—one of the few English barons who had done so—the acrimony between him and Sir Piers was well known. Yet the men had been locked in discussion for most of the meal.

  Something was commanding their attention. She wondered what it was.

  Barely had the question formed when she felt a prickle of awareness. Nay, a prickle of danger. It was the feeling of being watched. She felt a twitch, like that of a mouse under the predatory gaze of the hawk.

  She turned in the direction of the oppressing weight and froze. The bottom fell out of her stomach. Her legs swayed as if she might swoon.

  It wasn’t possible. But it was …

  Dear God, it was him. Sir Kenneth Sutherland in all of his aggressively masculine perfection. He was even more handsome than she remembered—and she would have sworn she remembered everything about him. But his eyes were an even deeper blue than her imagination would allow, his jaw harder and more challenging, his face leaner and with a few more nicks, his shoulders broader, and his arms even thicker with muscle. She’d forgotten how it felt to stand so close to him. How tall he was. How powerfully built. How stomach-knottingly handsome.

  But most of all, she’d forgotten how it felt to be caught in that magnetic gaze. Caught. That was exactly how she felt.

  Panic surged through her. “Why are you here?” she blurted, as if he might have discovered the truth.

  But he couldn’t have, she reminded herself. He couldn’t know.

  “You’ve met?”

  Sir John’s question startled her from her trance of panic—and fear, she realized. Deep-seated fear.

  He didn’t sound pleased.

  Suddenly the reason for his question hit her. She stared at Sir Kenneth in mute horror, unsure what to say. Had she given him away? Did they know he was with Bruce?

  But apparently it wasn’t a secret. “Aye,” Sir Kenneth said. “In Scotland at the Highland Games last fall.”

  From the glares shooting back and forth, it was obvious these two men didn’t like one another.

  “Aye, that was it,” she said as if the matter were beneath her regard. “I’d almost forgotten.”

  She caught the spark in Sir Kenneth’s eyes and knew he hadn’t mistaken her implication.

  “Of course,” Sir John said, giving her a smile that was both too indulgent and too proprietary. “You attended the Games while on your peacekeeping mission for the king. You would have occasion to meet many of the rebels.” He gave a small sneer of distaste.

  Sir Adam finally took pity on her bewilderment. “Young Sutherland has declared his allegiance for Edward.”

  Mary couldn’t hide her shock. Her gaze flickered to Sir Kenneth’s. “You have?”

  A muscle tightened in his jaw, as if sensing her disapproval. “Aye.”

  “When?”

  “Only last night,” Sir John said, a hint of snideness in his tone. “How fortunate for us that Sir Kenneth has once again decided to switch sides.”

  She could tell by the tiny white lines that appeared around Sir Kenneth’s mouth and the sudden glint in his eye that he hadn’t missed the disparagement, but he did not rise to defend himself. Which, from what she knew of him, was strange. He definitely didn’t seem the type to let a slight go by. Rather the opposite. She’d gotten the impression he was usually raring for a fight.

  Though it was hardly uncommon to jump from one side of the border to the other, Mary was unaccountably disappointed to hear that he’d left Bruce’s army. Over the past months, she’d wondered if she’d somehow been wrong about him. But this show of loyalty—or rather, disloyalty—seemed proof that she wasn’t.

  She wanted to ask him why, but dared not prolong the conversation that had already gone on too long. So instead, she merely agreed, “Fortunate indeed.” Going on as if the matter meant nothing to her, which indeed it shouldn’t, she added to Sir Adam, “I’m feeling rather tired. I think I shall return to my chamber.”

  “I will see you back—” Sir John started, but she cut him off. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was an insistent suitor. “That won’t be necessary. Lady Eleanor and Lady Katherine are waiting for me. I will see you on the morrow.”

  “Unfortunately, it seems I must delay the ride I promised you,” Sir John said.

  “Oh?” She couldn’t completely hide her disappointment. He’d promised to take her for a ride tomorrow and bring Davey along. Of course, he’d left that part out. Clearly, he was trying to stake some kind of claim, as if he’d sensed something between her and Sir Kenneth.

  But there was nothing between them. There couldn’t be.

  “Something has come up,” he explained. “I will be away from the castle for a day or two, but I promise we shall go as soon as I return.”

  She didn’t need to look at Sir Kenneth to see him tense. She could feel the anger radiating from him in hot, powerful waves. She was beginning to feel like a meaty bone being fought over by two snarling hounds, and she’d had enough of it. Neither man had a claim on her.

  But a tiny voice in the back of her head told her that wasn’t completely true. And the longer she stayed here, the more danger she was in of Kenneth discovering the truth. She had to leave. But where could she go? And what of Davey? They’d only just begun to get to know one another again.

  Feeling as if her world was being ripped apart all over again, Mary fought the urge to run and started slowly away. But she’d taken only a few steps when his voice reached out to snake around her.

  “Lady Mary.”

  She gave a cautious turn over her shoulder.

  He smiled. A smile that twisted through her chest and coiled low in her belly. “I look forward to renewing our acquaintance.”

  She felt the gasp rise in her throat and only barely managed to prevent it from escaping. She could only hope her expression gave no hint of the panic surging in her chest. She nodded, as if it had merely been a polite comment, as innocuous as it sounded.

  But it wasn’t polite or innocuous. His meaning rang clear to her. The moment she passed through the entry of the Great Hall, she started to run. Only later, when she’d reached the safety of her chamber, did she remember her attendants.

  Twelve

  By the time they neared the place in the royal Ettrick Forest where they would “surprise” Bruce’s men who were lying in wait to attack the supply cart from Carlisle, it was taking everything Kenneth had not to give Felton the fight for which he was so obviously clamoring. During the long ride west from Berwick Castle, Percy’s champion knight took every opportunity to insult, discredit, and argue with him about every facet of the mission