Page 44 of The Scot’s Secret

These were the second sort of men.

Alex saw the movement, as did Clara apparently. When the reiver grabbed the lance at his side, Clara’s sword arm darted toward the same spot Alex had already injured him.

“This lass,” she said, “is neither wee nor Scottish. Know ’twas an Englishwoman who ended your life.”

Alex watched as the man’s eyes widened just before the emptiness set in. Clara turned toward the river.

Alex walked up to both men to ensure they were, in fact, dead.

He stood there for a moment longer and finally made his way toward Clara.

Though the sun had risen, the sky stubbornly refused to lighten. Rain threatened, making the prospect of that day’s ride a wet one.

He found her bent at the riverbed, cleaning her sword.

“I’m sorry—” he began.

She turned, her face expressionless.

“’Tis my fault.” She turned her attention back to her task.

He disagreed. “I never heard them coming.” It was inexcusable that he’d allowed this situation to unfold, and it might have ended in both of their deaths. He had been so intent on her story, he’d allowed himself to forget that they were vulnerable.

Toren would never have made such a mistake.

“I should not have discarded Alfred so easily.”

Alex knelt down beside her. Clara’s hands were shaking as she wiped her weapon clean. Where had she gotten the linen cloth?

“Have you killed a man before?”

She’d obviously been trained to do so. But training and killing were very different.

“Nay,” she said flatly. She finished her task and looked at him. “How did you move so quickly?”

He shrugged. “Apparently my feet are quicker than my ears are keen to sound.”

That, at least, brought a smile to her face.

“Your tongue is as quick as your feet,” she said. “I didn’t mean. . . that is. . . your wit. . .”

“I understand, lass.” He stood when she did. “Are you all right then?”

It was no small matter to end a man’s life. Even if it was justly deserved.

“Aye. I mean, I think so. He was wrong to have attacked me. . . and then to say such a thing. . . I just. . . ’tis not fair.”

“’Tis the way of the world.”

He had heard the same complaint from his sister, who’d struggled with the harmful misconception that women were somehow inferior to men.

He, of course, knew better. It was a wonder any man with a daughter could not see the world as he and his brothers did.

“I will be Alfred once again.”

“Clara, no, I—”

“Nay, Alex. I will not be dissuaded.”