His blood went hot.
God’s teeth, but the woman was so damn attractive.
A man strode into the tavern and made his way to the table just behind William. “I’ll need a hearty ale tonight after what we’ve been told,” he said to his companion. “We’re being sent to bloody Scotland.”
“For how long?” Another voice asked.
Kinsey’s eyebrow quirked up, and William knew she’d heard it too. He reached across the table and took her hand in his, as lovers would. She flinched and tried to pull her hand back, but he gave a slight shake of his head and discreetly indicated the men behind him with his eyes.
“Until their imposter of a king is defeated,” the man replied.
William stroked his thumb over the back of Kinsey’s hand. It was an act, but one he played willingly. Her skin was like silk beneath his touch, save for her fingertips, which were callused from her bow. Her eyes were a brilliant, pale blue. Stunning.
A tender smile played over her lips as she gazed back at him.
It was a bit stiff to be truly convincing, but it would do.
“What about the castle?” The man behind him asked.
His companion scoffed. “You know how things are at Mabrick.”
Kinsey stiffened somewhat at the name of the castle. Her lips moved without sound, repeating the same, and her brow furrowed like she was searching her memory.
“’Tis too hot in here,” she said.
Before William could ask what was wrong, she’d already stood up, pulling her hand from his, and walked out the door of the tavern.
4
Kinsey’s heart slammed in her chest. Mabrick Castle. She knew that name. It was the castle nearest Werrick Castle, where Drake worked as Captain of the Guard. She pushed through the heavy tavern door into the cool night air. Even absent the thick odors inside, she still found it hard to breathe. She needed a moment with her thoughts.
A middle-aged man with a hairline that had receded halfway over his pate approached her with a swagger. “I saw you when you came in.”
Kinsey put up her hand. “Nay.”
He stopped and frowned.
She had to get away, to think. How could she attack a castle so near Drake? What if he’d been sent to help and she shot him by mistake?
The man turned away, and she went in the opposite direction, slipping into a narrow alley in the hopes of losing herself in the shadows. Piles of refuse littered the sides of the building amid muddy puddles and a fetid sourness hung in the air.
“Kinsey.”
The erratic pounding of her heart stilled. Sir William had followed her out.
A large, warm hand wrapped around her arm. “Kinsey.”
She spun around at the familiar voice. Not William. She stared up at her older brother. “Drake.”
“What are ye doing here?” The heavy shadows cast over his face and made him appear ferocious. “Who is that man ye’re with?”
Suddenly Kinsey felt foolish to admit what she’d done. How she’d left Clara and their Mum to take back land from the English, especially when Drake’s money came from them. The money that afforded them a safe manor and ensured they were well cared for. And now she was fighting against all of that, siding with her passions rather than her family’s best interest.
“I…I…” she stammered.
His brow crinkled. “It must be bad if Kinsey Fletcher is at a loss for words.”
She gave him a disparaging look.
“Did ye run off with him?”
She scoffed. “I’m no fool to lose my head over a man. Especially not one so arrogant.”
“Are ye in trouble then?” Drake asked, his tone serious. He had more of a Scottish burr to his speech than any of them. Whether through being older when they spent time in Scotland when they were younger, or from all his time with Scottish reivers prior to working for Lord Werrick. And it always became thicker still when he was irked.
She shook her head. “I left home.”
“Why?”
To rise against men like the one who employs ye and has kept us all safe.
She bit the inside of her cheek, unable to bring herself to speak the truth.
“Kinsey,” he said in a warning tone. It was one he hadn’t used on her since she was a child.
He never scolded her. He didn’t have to. After all, it was never his wrath she dreaded, but his disappointment.
“I’ve joined the Scottish rebellion.” There. She’d said it. Her gaze settled warily on his face to gauge his reaction.
His jaw clenched. “I would discourage ye from doing this.”
“’Tis already done.”
“Ye know I work for an English earl.” His stare bored into her.
She wanted to look away, to block the force of his emotions. He’d never been one to say what was on his mind, but it was always there in his eyes. Right now, there was anger, aye—a rare emotion, but there regardless. But there was also discontent, and there was fear.
She nodded slowly.
He gritted his teeth as if in pain. “And ye know if ye attack Werrick Castle, I’d have to fight ye.”
She swallowed and nodded again.
“This is foolish, Kinsey.” He rubbed the back of his neck, finally breaking his burning eye contact with her. “The English know ye’re coming. They’re preparing for Scottish attacks.”
“We’re well trained.” Kinsey didn’t let her confidence falter. Not for one moment.
“Dinna tell me where ye’re going or what ye’re doing.” He put a hand up as though to silence her. “I dinna want to know, so I canna be asked for it or forced to lie for ye. His lips pressed in a thin line as he considered her. “Kinsey…”
“I won’t change my mind,” she said stubbornly.
He shook his head. “I know ye too well to assume ye would.”
The way he said it made her want to look at her shoes and toe the dirt. Though she kept her head
