The Ranger by Monica McCarty Read Free Book Online

her voice to ring out with the words that would condemn him to death ... and to failure.
    But the furrow only deepened.
    And then in one reckless moment he knew what he had to do. He had to be sure.
    Slowly, he lifted his gaze to hers.
    He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink as their eyes collided unhindered for the first time. Gazing into her eyes, as dark and deep a blue as the sea, he felt himself drowning. Lost, if only for an instant.
    When she gasped, he knew it was all over.
    But she quickly dropped her gaze, and a soft pink blush spread over her cheeks.
    Arthur nearly sighed with relief. The lass hadn’t recognized him. She was simply embarrassed to be caught staring.
    His relief, however, was short-lived. The girl might not have denounced him as a spy, but she’d unwittingly done exactly what he’d hoped to avoid: brought him to her father’s attention.
    “Which brother are you?” Lorn asked, his dark, beady eyes having missed none of the exchange.
    Dugald answered for him. “My youngest. Sir Arthur, my lord. Beside him is my brother Sir Gillespie.”
    Both men nodded, but Lorn was focused on him—like a cur with a meaty bone. “Sir Arthur ...” he murmured, as if trying to recall the name. “You were knighted by the king himself.”
    Arthur met his enemy’s gaze for the first time, giving no hint of the hatred seething inside him. “Aye, my lord, King Edward knighted me after Methven.”
    “De Valence—Pembroke—thinks much of you.”
    Arthur bowed as if the praise pleased him, though it did anything but. Knowing, as he did, that the English commander’s praise had come at the expense of his friends. He did what he could to avoid battling Bruce’s men, but at times it was inevitable. To stay alive and to maintain his cover, he had no choice but to defend himself—sometimes to the death. It was the part of his mission he didn’t think about but that stayed with him nonetheless.
    Lorn gave him a long look, before finally turning his gaze.
    The next group of men stepped forward and Dugald led them away. But Arthur could feel the weight of eyes on his back the entire way. The girl’s, he thought, not Lorn’s. But neither was good for his mission.
    One thing was certain: He needed to stay far away from the lass.
    Anna MacDougall. His mouth hardened with distaste. Nothing killed a bit of unwanted lust like learning that the woman who’d fired his blood was the daughter of the man who’d killed his father.

Three

    Anna wasn’t watching where she was going. She’d returned to the castle with barely time to bathe and change her gown for the feast. A feast that had been her idea as a way to welcome the baron, knights, and men-at-arms who’d answered her father’s call to Dunstaffnage.
    With war hovering on their doorstep, a celebration might seem strange to some—such as her brother Alan, for example—but Anna knew how important it was to put aside the doom and gloom if only for one night. To remember what they were fighting for. To feel normal, if just for a little while—or what passed for normal in the midst of war.
    Fortunately, her father agreed and thought the feast a fine idea. She suspected he was also anxious to show his men that he’d recovered fully from his illness. But whatever the reason, Anna couldn’t have been more excited. There would be decadent amounts of food and drink, music, a
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to regale the crowd with a history of the clan, and dancing. Dancing! It had been so long since she’d danced.
    She and her sisters had spent hours deciding what to wear, planning every last detail.
    And now she was late.
    Not that she regretted it. Beth’s new baby was adorable, and Anna knew how much her recently widowed friend needed help. She felt a pang of sympathy for the child who would never know her father. There were so heartbreakingly many of them. Yet one more reason why she couldn’t wait for this blasted war to be over.
    She heard the first chords of the