Page 22 of Highlander’s Protector

His gaze slowly went up and down her body. “Yeah, I did. I guess I just didn’t give it much thought that I’ve been in the presence of a princess all this time.”

Something playful danced in his eyes, and the ice in her bones began thawing.

“I’m nae really a princess,” she said. “I’m a bastart, as ye must ken, too. My father has a legitimate daughter, Marjorie. She’s the princess.”

“You’re still a princess to me,” he said with a grin and peeled off another strand.

For the first time in what felt like forever, a lightness soared in her chest and the corners of her mouth crawled into a small smile. Who was this man? His manners, his voice, his accent were so different from anyone she’d ever met in her life. She hadn’t traveled much, but she had seen and met people from different corners of the world through the trade network of clan MacDonald.

And yet, never in her life had she met anyone like him. And no one ever said to her she was a princess. To everyone, she was a bastard. A royal bastard from the age of twelve. But still, a bastard. Some looked at her like she were a dirty rag. Some looked at her like she didn’t exist.

No one said she was a princess.

David finished peeling one parsnip and threw it into the boiling water. “Do you love your fiancé?”

She shifted, took a twig, and started drawing something in the dust on the floor. “I havena met him yet.” She watched as David’s hands moved slower. His gaze was dark and heavy on her. “My king needs me to do my duty for him and for my country. Love doesna matter.”

David gave a quick nod and peeled faster. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter for me, either. I’m not looking for it.”

His voice was odd, distant, and low.

“What are ye looking for?” she asked.

He threw the parsnip into the water and met her gaze. It was hard and direct and full of resolve. “For a way out. To go where I can be proud of myself. Where I can be myself.”

Anna blinked. She knew what it was like to push the true self down and away.

He picked up the last parsnip and drew his knife under the skin and pulled, watching the pale strip separate. “You’ve been in captivity for a few days. I’ve been in captivity for years. And I’m still living in it. And all I want is a way out.”

Something about it rang a tune in her very soul. “What does that mean, David? I dinna see ye in shackles. How are ye in captivity?”

He shook his head and looked down at the parsnip. “You wouldn’t understand. You were born here, and this is all the life you know. You’re at home here. I’ll never be.”

He threw the last parsnip into the cauldron, picked up another, smaller cauldron, and stood. “I’ll get some water from the waterfall to boil, for drinking.”

As Anna watched his tall, strong frame disappear behind the corner of the mouth of the cave, she frowned. He was wrong that she didn’t understand him. Being a bastard, she hadn’t felt at home one day in her life. She’d always needed to make an effort for people to love her and accept her. Love from her clan was never a given.

It was conditional.

And she didn’t even know if Robert the Bruce really wanted her, or if she was just a pawn in his political games.

Even though she hoped he would love her for herself, she suspected it was the latter, and yet she was ready to do anything for him.

What else could a bastard do?

CHAPTER 7

After they’d eaten, Anna went to the pond to wash. Moonlight sparkled in the waterfall like stars. A cake of soap David had given her in one hand and what he had called a toothbrush in the other, she stood, listening to the gurgling water and breathing the air. The griminess and the dirt were like a sickness on her skin, the smell of her own excrement still lingered on her dress, and she shook herself into action, eager to feel clean.

She took her rich, red dress off. The warm June breeze tickled her through her white linen shift, and she rejoiced in feeling the wind. Wind was freedom.

She took off her shoes and undid the lace garters that held her hose under her knees and removed them. The grass, stones, and a few twigs were sharp and yet pleasing against her bare feet.

She knelt before the pool and soaked her hose and her dress in it, watching the dark fabric thicken and sink. She foamed David’s soap, inhaling the pleasant scent. What kind of a traveler bothered to have soap with him? And an expensive one, clearly imported from Galicia or France. It smelled like heather and something else, something herbal and sweet. She rubbed the soap against the fabric and ground the dress against a rock at the edge of the pool.

What did she really know about David? Where was he going, what was that way out he was seeking? How had he come to find her cousin and Iàcob? What was it that they had promised him for helping them rescue her from the castle?

Soon, she finished with her dress, twisted water out of the heavy fabric as best she could, and hung it on the branches of a bush growing by the water. Then she did the same with the pair of hose. She looked back at the cave. She knew David wouldn’t come out as she’d told him she’d wash herself.