The Recruit Read online

  She shook her head. “No.”

  His face fell. “No, you won’t give me a chance?”

  Her mouth curved at his crestfallen expression. “No, you don’t need to prove yourself to me. I believe you. I believe in you. How can I not, after what we just went through? There is no other man I would have by my side.”

  His entire body seemed to relax. “Do you mean that?”

  She nodded. Mary knew she could face the challenges ahead of her on her own, but she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to face them with someone else. She wanted to share her life with him.

  Her mouth twitched. “But I will hold you to your vow to discuss your plans with me. If you are involved in anything dangerous in the future, please let me know.”

  She’d meant it as a jest, but his face shadowed. “Aye, well, about that.”

  She sat up a little higher in the bed. “Don’t tell me there’s something else?”

  He winced. “I took a vow of silence before I met you.”

  She frowned, her nose wrinkling. “Does this have something to do with Bruce’s phantoms?”

  He looked at her in surprise. “How did you guess?”

  She stared at him. Could he really not know? “You mean besides the fact that they are supposed to have virtually inhuman strength and skill, and I’ve seen you fight? There’s also the fact that you are all uncommonly tall and built like siege engines. But most important, I saw you with them. Even in pain, I could see that you were one of them.”

  He looked stunned. “You could?”

  It was obvious, apparently except to him. She nodded. “I must admit I was surprised to see that you are so close to your brother-in-law, given your clan history.”

  “MacKay?” He shook his head. “We hate each other.”

  She arched a brow. Men were so blind sometimes. “You act like brothers to me.”

  He frowned, as if he’d never considered it. She refrained from laughing and rolling her eyes. “Why did he call you Recruit?”

  “That’s what I am. I’ve been trying to win a place on the team since I met you last summer at Dunstaffnage.”

  He told her why the loss that day had meant so much to him. “I let my temper get to me,” he explained, “and MacKay took advantage of it. Instead of winning a place outright on the team, I’ve been fighting ever since to earn my place.”

  Mary felt a pang, understanding probably more than he intended. It was always like that for him. Having to fight his way on. Having to prove himself. That was why winning was so important to him. “And have you?”

  “Yes, I think I finally have.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  He tipped her chin. “It’s what I thought I always wanted. But it isn’t. You and our son are the most important things in the world to me. I know what you’ve been through. I won’t put you through this, if you don’t think you can handle it. I won’t lie to you—being part of the Guard is extremely dangerous. Not just for me. You could be in danger if my part in it is ever discovered. If you don’t want to be a part of it, I’ll understand.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’ll tell Bruce I can’t do it, if you want me to. There are other ways I can fight for him.”

  Mary was stunned. She knew how much this meant to him. After a lifetime of proving himself, he’d finally done so, earning his way into the most vaunted team of warriors in Christendom, and now he would walk away from it for her? “You would do that for me?”

  “I would do anything for you.”

  Her heart swelled until she thought it would burst. Tears glistened in her eyes. He would never know what that offer had meant to her. Just as she knew she could never ask it of him. “I don’t know, I think I should like being married to a real-life hero.” She smiled. “Besides, I don’t think you want to see your brother-in-law get all the glory, do you?”

  A wide grin spread across his face. “Hell no! He’s bloody unbearable as it is.”

  “Then you must keep him in his place.”

  He reached down and cupped her face in his warm hand. “I love you.”

  The look of tenderness in his eyes brought a fresh lump of emotion to her throat. Tears filled her eyes. “And I love you.”

  He kissed her. Gently. Reverently. A soft brush of the lips that sent her heart slamming against her ribs. Too soon, he lifted his head and smiled. “I should let you get some rest.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t go. I’m not tired.” She’d just gotten him back; she didn’t want him to leave again.

  He seemed to understand. “Scoot over.”

  He moved onto the bed beside her, leaning against the headboard, so that she could snuggle against him. She sighed with contentment, resting her cheek against his steel-hard chest and feeling the protective strength of his big arms wrapped around her.

  Warm and content, happier than she thought possible, she fell asleep. And for the first time in a long time, she let herself dream. For dreams did come true. She would never make do again.

  Epilogue

  Late summer 1310

  Skelbo Castle, Sutherland, Scotland

  Mary kissed her son on his downy-soft head and handed him to his nurse. He protested with a tiny whinge, but then settled into the woman’s arms contentedly. “Good night, sweeting,” she said, as the old woman took him away for his nap.

  Her sister-in-law turned from her place by the window overlooking the yard. “I doubt he shall get any sleep with that racket going on down there.”

  Mary sighed. “Who’s winning this time?”

  Helen squinted into the bright sunshine. “I think your husband.”

  “What does that make it?”

  Helen shrugged. “I lost count. Maybe five to five?”

  “When do you think they’ll stop?” Helen looked at her, and Mary laughed. “All right, you’re right. They won’t stop.” She shook her head. “You would think they would have had enough fighting the past couple of months.”

  “Ah, but that is easy,” Helen said with a grin. “That’s against the English. This is fighting to prove who’s the best Highlander.”

  Mary came to join her by the window. “I think you better fetch your bag, Angel. It looks like you have a few bruises and cuts to tend.”

  Helen’s mouth pursed. “I don’t know why I bother; they’ll just do it all over again tomorrow.”

  If they were here tomorrow. Mary knew that her husband’s brief, three-day respite from war could be over at any time. Edward had marched on Scotland nearly two months ago, and Bruce and the Highland Guard had been ready. Kenneth’s instincts had proved correct. Edinburgh Castle had been an attempted diversion by the English. The troops had followed the same path Clifford and his men had taken that fateful scouting trip. Thanks to her husband, Bruce’s men were waiting for them. The English had been hit hard and often on his progress north. Edward was currently taking shelter at Renfrew Castle southwest of Glasgow, but Bruce hoped to have the demoralized English king back in Berwick soon, licking his wounds.

  Mary followed Helen out of the Hall, down the stairs, and into the courtyard. The two men were sitting on overturned wooden crates, arguing. From the looks of them, it was hard to tell who won. They were both bruised, scraped, and looked like they’d been rolling in mud—which they had.

  Helen didn’t say anything. She just stomped up to her husband, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him until he dropped his head. “Aw, Helen, don’t look at me like that. He had it coming.”

  “He always does. And did you prove anything?”

  “Aye, that his neck looks good under my sword,” Kenneth interjected gamely.

  His sister shot him a look. “I’ll deal with you later. Come,” she said to Magnus, with a long-suffering sigh. “Let me see what I can do with that eye.”

  Mary shook her head and folded her arms, looking down at her gloating husband. “Well, Ice, what do you have to say for yourself?” She used the war name given to him by the High