There was no way in Hades that she’d happened to run into the same irritating Highlander who had tried now to thwart her missions twice in so short a span of time.
Fiona worked hard to keep her eyes steady on his, refusing to retreat or give in to what he wanted.
“Ye’re a bit cocky for a wee lass.”
“My da would be proud of me.” And that was the truth. Her da would be exceedingly proud of all she’d accomplished and sacrificed for Scotland. And so would her brothers, even though Ian was bound to be furious with her for disobeying a direct order.
She’d watched him escape the battlefield from afar, him none the wiser to her being there, and she prayed he’d stayed on the road with the royal entourage rather than head back toward their family’s holding. He’d not been badly injured from what she’d witnessed. In fact he’d fought like a bloody madman.
“What is your da’s name?”
“Da.”
The man cursed under his breath. “Ye’re trying my patience.”
“And ye’re trying mine.”
“I ought to whip ye for your insolence.”
She straightened, seething. “Ye ought to let me pass.”
The Highlander sucked his teeth against his lips as he leaned closer, his gaze raking over her.
She gritted her teeth. “If ye dinna let me go, people will die.” She started to march around him again, but the skin of his palm branded her knuckles, and she stopped moving.
His eyes widened as he stared into hers, as if he’d just discovered some secret.
“Why do I know ye?” he growled.
“Because we’ve met before, Brogan Grant.”
“The messenger.”
“Ye’ve a quicker wit than I would have granted ye.”
“Hmm… What are ye doing here?”
“The same thing I was doing early this morning.”
“And this time dressed differently.”
“I like change.”
He made that disgruntled noise again and she wanted to punch him in the throat. “Let me go.”
“I canna. Ye’re too reckless. I’m taking ye home.”
“Ye dinna know where I live, and besides, I’d refuse to go.”
“Did ye no’ see the carnage, lass? Cumberland and his army willna hesitate to tear ye apart. Another Scot no’ so chivalrous as myself would do the same. Ye’ll no’ have a choice about going home. ’Tis for your own safety.”
“I dare say I will. Ye know nothing about me.”
They glared at each other for an interminably long time, both of them breathing hard, trying to wait out the other. She wasn’t giving in to him this easily. No way in hell. She’d worked too hard to just give up and go home.
“I suppose ye think by glaring at me I’ll simply cower and give ye the whereabouts of my domicile and allow ye to escort me back all proper-like? Well, ye’re delusional should ye think it would go anything like that.”
“A woman’s place is at home.”
A bitter laugh escaped her then. “And where is a man’s place? Because I should think it was the field of battle and no’ running away like a coward.”
“I killed as many of the bastards as tried to take me out. I watched my clansmen die. I’m no’ running away.”
“Oh really? Then where are ye going?”
“None of your business. And ye’re trying to distract me. Ye need to go home afore some danger befalls ye. The bastards will no’ be kind if they find ye.”
“Ye said as much already and still I’m no’ convinced. Perhaps ye turned tail and ye’re no longer a Jacobite. Are ye rushing down to the border where ye can swear your allegiance to King George? Why are ye no’ with Murray, serving at his command?”
Anger simmered in his eyes, and perhaps a more cautious lass might have been scared by it, but she wasn’t. She was equally as angry. Already she knew he wasn’t a traitor, but he’d insulted her, and she was just pushing that platter right back.
“How dare ye say such to me? I am more loyal than most of the men on that field.”
Fiona was still suspicious of who these seven were. Why had they come to the house? Were they here to raid? Instinct told her no, but still she had to question him. “Then what are ye doing here?”
“We’re trying to find the prince.”
She raised her brows. “Good luck with that.”
“Ye know where he is.” It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t exactly stupid. He was a soldier and it was his duty to fight for the prince.
It was her duty to rally his troops. And she wanted to help him, she did.
“I make it my business to know where everyone is.” An idea struck her then, how she could use these men to her own advantage. But she didn’t want to ask. “Let me go.”
“Tell me where he is. And I’m no’ letting ye go.”
Perhaps instead of asking, she could negotiate with him. “Ye’ve never been in a negotiation, have ye? Normally there is a give-and-take.”
“I dinna need to negotiate. Tell me where he is. It is our duty to protect him.”
Fiona jutted her chin forward. “As it is mine.”
He narrowed his eyes more, and she felt the urge to hit him so strongly that her fist actually clenched beneath his hand, and it took every effort she had not to break free of his hold and raise her fist to his godlike jaw.
As if sensing her indecision, he glanced down at his hand over hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “I will make ye a deal, lass.”
Fiona released a laugh, but not with humor; it was a frustrated sound that burbled from her throat. “I’m no’ in the mood for making deals. I’m in the mood for completing my mission. And ye’re getting in my way.”
Three
Brogan had never felt the desire to strangle a woman before. And it wasn’t as if he wanted her to die, or even to hurt her. Nay, he just wanted to…throttle her. To shake some sense into her. It was the oddest sensation.
He gritted his teeth.
Why was Fate putting this woman in front of him two times in the span of less than a day? And both times with her being less than honest?
The hour in which he had patience had long passed. He was tired, hungry, angry as hell over the way the battle had played out, and on top of that he wasn’t entirely certain what was going to happen next, which was bound to make him snap at any moment.