Wallace can evade the king?”
“Until Scotland is free.” A question popped into Patrik’s mind. “Where did you hear that Robert Bruce is again considering swearing fealty to King Edward?”
Though Patrik had asked with ease, Emma caught the dangerous curiosity beneath his question. Curse her tired mind. What he must never learn was that she’d acquired the fact while she was briefed for her mission by Sir Hugh de Cressingham.
Unease shuddered through her. Her meeting with the treasurer of the English administration in Scotland seemed as if a lifetime ago. A time when her heart lay dead and her greatest desire was to face the next challenge. A mission that would bring the coin that allowed her to exist.
But, in a few short days, because of Patrik, everything had changed.
“A week ago, I entered a tavern to buy some bread and smoked meat,” Emma lied, hating every word. “Several English knights were at a table nearby, drinking and talking loudly. Not wanting to draw their attention, I kept to the shadows. I overheard them boasting that Robert Bruce was again considering abandoning the rebels.”
Patrik remained silent.
Did he believe her? To remain here would only allow him more time to think, and her more time to slip and reveal something to further raise his suspicions.
She rubbed her arms as if chilly. “Will we be leaving here soon?”
He hesitated. “Aye. We will remain near the path, but I dare not use it.” He stood. “If you see or hear anything, tap my shoulder.”
Relief swept over Emma. Each foolish slip was minor, but if Patrik began to piece them together, he might begin asking more questions, requiring answers she could never give. Worse, if he learned Sir Cressingham had hired her, Patrik would believe their lovemaking was naught but another tool to deceive him.
Ashamed her deception had tainted the intimacy between them, she reminded herself that if he learned the truth, Patrik would use every means at his disposal to find her.
And he would soon discover the Scottish woman named Cristina Moffat didn’t exist.
However much she wished to remain with Patrik, she could not linger. This night, once he’d fallen asleep, she would take the writ and leave. After she met with Sir Cressingham and passed him the writ, along with information she’d gleaned, she could wash her hands of this damnable situation.
God in heaven, she’d made a fine mess of it. However much Patrik made her feel, never could she forget he was a man who had given his heart to the Scottish cause.
Coldness swept through her as she pushed aside another branch. “How far will we go tonight?”
“A bit more. We cannot risk traveling to my friends. This detour has gained us a day’s time together if not more.”
She glanced at him. “Where are we headed?”
“A rebel camp.” Patrik kept his answer vague. She would be safe while he met with Bishop Wishart, and his friends would keep an eye on her.
That he believed it necessary to have her watched left him restless. She was a stranger, a lass he’d known but days, despite the bond that had formed between them.
If they’d shared naught but sex, he could have dismissed it, but the lass had given him her trust. He’d witnessed her discovery as he’d touched her, her genuine surprise as she’d fallen apart, which confirmed what she’d shared about her life. Many a woman could act, but a lass could not fake her body’s first time.
Her body’s first time? Nay, not her first time with a man, but her first time with a lover who cared.
A rock shifted beneath his foot and the earth gave away. He grabbed a limb, caught himself from slipping back.
“Patrik?”
“I am fine.” ’Twould teach him to be mulling over the lass. He scanned the sky. The moon loomed overhead. “We have traveled a fair distance west and should be well away from the knights, but we will continue a ways farther. I will take no chances.”
“Do you think the English forces we came
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