Chapter 13
The next morning dawned bright and cold, and Hamish felt particularly energised without knowing why.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he thought of the kiss he had shared with Amanda the night before, the soft gaze in her brown eyes before his mouth touched hers.
Then there was the feel of her lips, tender and warm as they yielded to his with a little moan of what he hoped was desire.
He had relished the chance to touch Amanda’s skin as he massaged her arms, shoulders, and neck and felt her relax under his touch. It felt just as he had expected—as soft as velvet and perfumed with her own musk, the scent that was becoming so familiar to him and which he loved.
She had haunted his dreams that night in a series of erotic ways that made him desperate to possess her.
Sometimes Hamish practised his swordsmanship with one of the other men, but it was mainly for their benefit because he had plenty of experience already. This morning, however, he felt so worked up that he might injure anyone who fought with him.
When he picked up his sword, he felt as though his heart was pumping his blood faster than usual, and power was pulsing through him as if some spirit of pure savage strength had taken hold of him.
The men watched as he took up his sword and began to slice it through the air with lethal precision, and his footwork was so graceful it was almost like a dance.
Some women stopped to watch him, including Fiona, who could not keep her eyes off him.
Hamish was bare to the waist, and was considered a treat for the ladies’ eyes.
Gregor joined in after a while, stepping in front of him with his own sword raised, ready to do battle.
“Hey, big man!” he cried. “Dae ye have time tae be knocked out this mornin’? I’m just in the mood tae gie ye a good skelpin’!”
Hamish gave a fierce growl and bared his teeth in a mock snarl. “I’m game if you are, wee man!” he cried. “But I’m warning you, you will not win!”
Gregor threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Bring it on!” he cried eagerly.
They began their bout, and although their swords were blunt, Gregor was surprised by the savagery of Hamish’s attack, wondering if he had forgotten that this was not a real fight.
“Hamish!” one of the guards cried. “Ye’re aimin’ at the wrong place!” He pointed to a spot between his legs and all the others fell about laughing.
Gregor grinned. “Aye, right!” he cried.
“Just you try!” Hamish answered. “You will never father another child!”
The two men went on, thrusting, parrying, occasionally pretending to stab each other in the heart, and dancing around each other till both were exhausted. After half an hour or so, both men were too tired to go on and put their swords back in their sheaths before going to eat breakfast.
Gregor handed Hamish a plate of porridge, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What has got intae ye this mornin’?” he asked as he watched Hamish wipe the sweat from his flushed face. “I thought ye were goin’ tae start a war a’ by yoursel’!”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Gregor,” Hamish replied, smiling. “I felt so full of energy today, and I needed to work some of it off. You’re quite safe, since I haven’t declared war on anyone except my brother.”
Gregor laughed grimly. “Aye, dinnae worry, pal. Ye will have a fair old army behind ye. The men are a’ gettin impatient with every day that passes. Everybody is ready tae get their swords wet wi’ Struan’s blood.”
“We will, I promise,” Hamish said. “But we have to be ready and come up with a good plan.”
He stood up and began to walk around the camp, and many of the young boys came running up to him with their wooden swords ready to engage him in play fights.
One of the boys in question came running up and almost tripped him up as he charged straight at Hamish’s feet, but Hamish roared and lifted his sheathed sword high in the air in order to bring it down on his opponent’s head.
The little boy, who was about seven summers old, dodged around him and drove the point of his wooden sword into Hamish’s backside.
Hamish whipped around, holding on to his rear end and screaming in pain, but this was the worst thing he could have done, since he had left his front open to his enemy’s sword.
“Surrender!” the boy cried, holding up his sword and frowning ferociously.
“Never!” Hamish growled.
The little boy let out a yell and charged forward, then drove his wooden sword onto Hamish’s stomach. It did no harm, of course, but Hamish staggered backwards with a bloodcurdling scream, then fell on the ground and lay still.
His opponent ran forward and put a foot on Hamish’s stomach, then raised his arms in triumph, whereupon his playmates and most of the guards cheered and clapped in appreciation.
After a few moments, Hamish magically rose from the dead, laughing, then put down his sword then went to talk to one of the women who was expecting a child. He always made a point of treating expectant mothers with special care and smiled as he sat down beside the young woman.
“Good morning, Annie,” he said pleasantly. “How are you feeling?”
Annie gave him a beaming smile. “Very well, Hamish,” she replied. “I think it must be a wee boy. He jumps an’ kicks like a spring lamb, an’ nothin’ settles him. I didnae have half as much trouble wi’ the last one. She was a girl.” She shook her head and tutted.
“I am so glad I do not have to carry babies,” Hamish remarked with a mock terrified expression. “Even the thought of it scares me to death.”
Annie laughed. “An’ men aye think they are stronger than women!” she said, shaking her head. “I would love tae see ye gettin’ wi’ child! Ye wouldnae last five minutes! Here.”
She took her hand and placed it on her stomach, and Hamish felt a series of rapid tap-taps under the palm of his hands. He felt astonished that this was an actual human being. He wondered for the first time ever if he would ever be a father. The notion both thrilled and terrified him.
“Dae ye think the English lassie would help me wi’ the birth?” the woman asked Hamish. “We a’ thought she was goin’ tae be nasty just because she was a Sassenach, but I think we were a’ wrong. I heard what she did in Inchkeith.”
Hamish smiled. “I think she would be only too pleased to help you.”
With a pleased grin, he wandered around for a while meeting and greeting everyone, slowly making his way back to Gregor. After that, the two men settled down to eat their breakfast and make the kind of small talk that only good friends can before Gregor turned his head and nudged Hamish.
“Look who’s here,” he said, with a sly wink.
Amanda was walking towards them, eating a bannock, her face flushed, and her hair tousled by the breeze.
She looks adorable, Hamish thought, unaware that his soft smile was giving away his thoughts as surely as if he had spoken them.
Amanda had felt very reluctant to get out of bed, not only because she was so warm and cosy, but because she had dreamt about Hamish all night and wanted to carry on doing so.
However, she could hear all the morning bustle going on outside, and knew that she would have to rise and begin her work for the day.
After the previous day’s labour among all the villagers, Amanda knew that she needed to mix some more medicines, and perhaps go and pick more willow bark, which was the item she used most. She rose from bed and put on one of her dresses, the dark blue one, wishing she had a mirror to look at herself now that she had new clothes.
She was surprised to realise that she wanted to look good for Hamish, then told herself angrily that any woman would want such a handsome man to admire them. The feeling was quite natural and nothing to be concerned about; it was a matter of vanity and nothing else.
Amanda left the tent and moved to the middle of the camp to get her breakfast, passing Fiona on the way. As usual, she received a poisonous look, and as usual, she ignored it. She had long ago realised that the best way to deal with women like Fiona was to deny them the attention they craved.
She picked up her breakfast and wandered over to seat herself away from the fire.
Meanwhile, Gregor followed Hamish’s gaze and said, “Does she mean somethin’ tae ye, Hamish?”
Hamish sighed and looked at his friend; he could never keep anything from Gregor. “I have to admit to being a little fond of her. She is a very caring person. I saw that yesterday when we went to the village, and by the time we left she had helped many sick people and gained many admirers.”
“Fiona will no’ be pleased,” Gregor observed.
Hamish sighed irritably. “I don’t care what Fiona thinks,” he said. “She is not my wife or my betrothed, and I am not courting her.”
Gregor huffed. “I dinnae think she sees it that way,” he said, frowning.
Hamish made no answer, but strode over to sit beside Amanda. “Good morning, lass,” he said pleasantly. “Did you sleep well?”
Amanda nodded, but she was avoiding his gaze. “Yes,” she replied, with an awkward half-smile. “Did you?”
“I did—as always,” he answered.
The subject of the kiss hung between them, and neither wanted to be the first to mention it.
“Your dress suits you very well,” Hamish observed. “The brown one is pretty, but this is a better colour on you.”
Hamish, you’re babbling, he thought desperately. You sound like a complete idiot.
“Thank you, you’re very kind, Hamish.” Amanda could hear the slight nervous tremble in her voice.
“Have you heard from your sisters?” he asked, desperate for something else to say.
Amanda turned to him and treated him to a disapproving frown, then she gave a cynical laugh. “How can they get in touch with me when they have no idea where I am?” she asked in disbelief.
Hamish groaned. “Forgive me, Amanda,” he said, shaking his head at his own stupidity. “I wasn’t thinking. I can be such a fool sometimes.”
“We all can,” she replied. “May I start preparing some tinctures and tisanes for our next trip? I will probably need to go into the forest and pick some herbs.”
“Of course,” Hamish replied. “But you will not go in without an escort. You will take at least two of my biggest, strongest men with you. I will not have you falling in the river or being ambushed by any more creepy old men.”
Amanda nodded in agreement. “I’ve learned my lesson, don’t worry, Hamish.”
She stood up, but Hamish grasped her arm to stop her from walking away. “Come with me, please,” he said, with a smile.
Amanda frowned, puzzled. “Why?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” he replied.
Amanda dutifully followed him till they arrived at his tent, then she waited while he fetched something from his small desk. When he handed her several sheets of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink, Amanda gasped in surprise and pleasure.
“Oh!” she cried, and her face broke into a wide smile.
Hamish watched her, enchanted and warmed by the pleasure on Amanda’s beautiful face.
“I thought you could write to your sisters,” he told her. “I’m sure they would be glad to hear from you.”
Her eyes had lit up and as she looked up at him, she breathed, “Thank you, Hamish! You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Impulsively, she hugged him, then planted a soft kiss on his cheek before turning on her heel and running out of the tent to make a start on her letters.
Hamish watched her for a moment, feeling warm and happy inside that he had pleased her, although he wished that she had stayed with him for a little longer.
Whatever happened next, he resolved to spend as much time as he could with Amanda because the plans he had formed for the retaking of the castle might mean that his time was very short.