Amber eyes observed him carefully, warily. While her gaze was that of a warrior, her face resembled an angel’s. Beauty, unlike any he’d ever gazed upon before, stood before him now. Her skin was flawless, her cheekbones high, and her lips delightfully full. If her face was this beautiful, he could well imagine what her body looked like. It was too bad the cloak hid it from view.
He stopped his horse a few yards away and managed to find his voice. “Are you lost?”
A blond brow quirked at his question. “Do I look lost?”
“You are no’ from our clan, nor do you have the look of any neighboring clans.” He shrugged. “So, aye, you appear lost.”
“I’m not.”
She said nothing more, but her accent gave her away. He didn’t know what an English woman was doing in Scotland, but it couldn’t be good. Despite his earlier assumption that she knew how to use the bow, he couldn’t help but be concerned for her.
“You can be on your way,” she told him.
Lachlan bit back a grin. Damn if she hadn’t just issued him an order. “I’m no’ going anywhere, lass.”
She sighed and lifted her chin. “I am not some wilting female in need of a male.”
“I didna say that you were. And I’m no’ offering aid.”
Several moments passed where she simply stared at him. Finally, she looked away, issuing another sigh, this one louder. “You aren’t going to leave, are you?”
He shook his head.
She whirled around, the cloak billowing out around her as she did. That’s when he saw that she wore breeches. He only got a glimpse of her legs before the cloak once more settled to hide her from view. But that brief second was enough to get his blood racing.
With interest and desire.
Lachlan wanted to see her legs again. And now, more than ever, he wished to see the rest of her. Was she really dressed like a man? If that weren’t odd enough, no woman he knew would talk to him as this one did.
“You’re staring,” the female said.
Her back was to him now as she fiddled with her horse. He wasn’t sure how she knew where his gaze was centered. It was most likely a lucky guess.
“So?” he replied.
Her head turned so she looked at him over her shoulder. “I’ll leave the forest. I just want a few minutes.”
“The fact that you say that tells me you have no idea where you are.”
“Scotland,” she retorted.
He rolled his eyes. “Aye, that you are. But you’re also on MacCullum land.”
“I’ve ridden over a lot of territory, and I’ll continue riding onto others,” she said and turned her attention back to the horse.
“Lass,” he said with a sigh. “There is a war brewing between my clan and a neighboring one.”
“There’s always war of some kind.”
“You’re missing the point. You traveling alone as you are could make others believe you to be a spy. Or worse, someone to be kidnapped.”
Her hands stilled. Then she turned and faced him with her arms by her sides. “I’m not a spy. And if anyone dares to try and force me to do anything, they’ll regret it.”
“MacCullum land is vast. If you want to get through the forest without anyone else bothering you, let me escort you.”
“How do I know you’re a MacCullum? For all I know, everything you’ve told me is a lie.”
If those words had come from a man, Lachlan would’ve struck him down. Instead, he swung his leg over the gelding’s head and slid to the ground. As soon as his feet hit the earth, he strode to the woman and unsheathed his sword.
She took a step back and had an arrow nocked in her bow in the time it took him to blink. He was impressed, but his anger didn’t allow him to express it. Instead, he held his sword out so she could see the hilt.
“Look,” he demanded.
Her amber eyes flicked from his face to the weapon. “MacCullum,” she said and lowered her bow. “You could have stolen that. But given the way you carry it and the fury in your gaze, I believe it’s yours.”
He returned the blade to its scabbard. “I fight for my laird. This was his gift to me for defeating our enemy.”
The woman briefly closed her eyes before she put the arrow back into the quiver strapped to the horse. “I really am fine on my own.”
“You might know English ways, but you know nothing of ours, lass,” he told her and gave a short whistle to the gelding, which walked to him. He gathered the reins in his hands. “I patrol this forest to keep others out.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to have an army?”
“They make too much noise. I’m quieter on my own.”
She gave a nod and once more looked at the tree she’d embraced earlier. “I’ve always worked on my own.”
“You might be able to take some enemies, but on your own, you’d be overrun soon enough.”
“Not by men,” he thought he heard her say.
Lachlan frowned. “What?”
“Nothing,” she hastily replied and swung her gaze back to him. “I need to get through the forest quickly.”
“I can do that.”
She pressed her lips together, considering him. He saw she didn’t want to accept his offer. In her shoes, he probably wouldn’t either. But he knew for a fact that there were small bands of enemies wandering the forest, looking for anyone they believed they could take or kill to hurt the clan.
“If you refuse, I’ll only follow you.”
She snorted. “I doubt it. I’m good at covering my tracks.”
“You are no’ good enough to make me lose you.”
That made her hesitate. “If I agree, how soon can I be through the woods?”
“Two days. I know the shortest routes. If you go on your own, you could be here for days more.”
“I doubt that,” she stated. “But I am in a hurry.”
He wanted to ask where she was headed, but she probably wouldn’t tell him, so he didn’t bother. Instead, he mounted the gelding. “We better get moving if you’re in a hurry.”
“Aye,” she said and looked at the oak once more.
Then she walked to the tree and placed her hand on it. She leaned closer, and he could’ve sworn she spoke to it. When she straightened, she kept her gaze lowered while making her way to the mare before climbing onto the animal.
She gave him a nod, and he set off. She didn’t stay even with him, instead preferring to remain a little behind. They rode in silence for several minutes while he thought about what he had witnessed her doing with the tree. She had wanted to remain with it a little longer despite being in a rush. What was so important about the tree? It was probably an answer he’d never get.
“I’m Lachlan,” he said.
There was a brief pause before she replied, “I’m Synne.”
Surely, she hadn’t been named that because someone thought her a sin. She was anything but from what he’d seen so far. He wasn’t much of a talker. Never had been, actually. Usually, women did all the talking, and he found ways to not answer. Now, he was the one with all the questions, riding alongside a woman who didn’t seem to want to utter another syllable.