My Highland Rebel by Amanda Forester

Author:Amanda Forester
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2016-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

Twenty-one

Breanna waited until Jyne’s breathing was even and she was certain the lady was asleep. She had managed to avoid talking as much as she could, but Jyne was curious, and Breanna didn’t blame her. Trouble was, Breanna wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say and what she was not. Fortunately, when Jyne returned from her encounter with Cormac as the Fire Lord, she spent a half hour pacing and expressing her deep dislike for the man, and Breanna found all she was required to do was agree.

After Jyne had several wide yawns, Breanna suggested she get some sleep, for the poor lass appeared exhausted. Jyne confessed she had slept very little in the past several days, and upon crawling into bed, was almost immediately asleep.

Breanna smoothed her hands down her borrowed silk surcoat and the proper linen veil. She felt fresh and shiny in her new clothes. Lady Jyne was a very good sort of person, and it made her feel all the more wretched for keeping her brother’s secret from her.

Breanna opened the door to the stairs a crack. She needed to have words with her brother and figure out more of what he was trying to do. She had agreed to keep his secret for now, but needed to be further convinced to maintain that falsehood. Of course, she was not at liberty to be too demanding. If Cormac refused to help, there was nowhere else for her to go. Just once in her life, she wished to be the one in control. Then she could take care of herself and her younger sisters.

Breanna walked up the stone stairs on silent feet. From below, the familiar whoops and hollers of Rex’s men assaulted her ears. She doubted her brother would be among them. She knew he disliked their company as much as she.

She rapped lightly on the oak door that led to the solar her brother had indicated he was inhabiting. The latch was not barred, so she opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her. “Cormac?” she whispered out of habit. Staying in the company of her father and his men, she had learned to be discreet.

The solar was long, with walls rounded from the curve of the tower. It was sparsely furnished, but at least it was neat and clean, a step up from their usual dwellings.

“Cormac?” she called a bit louder.

A man appeared from around the corner.

It was not her brother.

“Och!” She stared at the man dressed in the black robes of a monk. “By the saints, who are ye?”

The monk stared back at her, apparently as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He was a young man, perhaps in his late twenties, with short, curly black hair. The hair on the very top of his head was shorter than the rest, most likely because he had shaved it in the manner of monks, and now it was growing back. He held himself straight and tall, with a certain aura around him of one accustomed to being in power.

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