A Sword Upon The Rose Read Online Free PDF Page A

on both knees in the frozen snow, she shivered—but not from the cold. She was terribly aware of the Highlander she was trying to help. His presence—his proximity—seemed overwhelming. “Your wound needs cleaning. It needs stitches.”
    His blue eyes were ice. “Why would ye help me—a stranger?”
    She had no answer to give. She did not know why she was compelled to aid him. She did not know why she was worried. But he had clearly survived the attack—and she was relieved.
    She had no explanation for her relief, either.
    When she made no answer, his eyes darkened with suspicion. He struggled to stand. Instantly he reeled, as if he were a tree buffeted in the wind.
    “What are you doing?” she gasped, left holding the bloody linen. She rushed to him to brace him to stand.
    “Dughall, tell the men to raise our tents. We will spend the night here.” He did not glance at her, shaking her off, his gaze on the burning manor. It was mostly rubble and smoldering ash now, although some timbers still burned. He appeared satisfied. “No one will use this place against us now.”
    Alana recalled what she had heard about Bruce—how his armies left no stones standing. So it was true.
    He turned to Alana. “So yer an angel of mercy.” He was mocking.
    She flushed. He did not seem grateful for her aid. He seemed highly skeptical.
    “I could not let you bleed.”
    He turned as if he hadn’t heard her. “And, Dughall, get a needle and thread.”
    “Aye, Iain.” Dughall raced off.
    Her pulse was racing. His name was Iain. Why did that seem to matter to her? “I can see a simple knife wound will not kill you. You should sit back down, my lord.”
    “A true angel.” He eyed her. “Why not, mistress? Why not let a stranger bleed to death?”
    She did not know the answer herself!
    “Why were ye in the woods? Did ye flee the manor when we attacked?” He spoke sharply.
    “No.” She hesitated, now thinking about the fact that Eleanor was hiding in the woods, and it would be dark in another hour. And he was fighting for Robert Bruce. He had been in battle with Duncan’s men. It would be dangerous to reveal who she was, or where she had been going—or why. He was the enemy, even if she had been compelled to help him. “I was on my way to visit kin in Nairn.” A version of the truth would surely do.
    “Ye journey alone?” He was obviously doubtful. “And then ye rush into a battle, to aid a stranger?” His stare was unnerving.
    She wet her lips. She could not blame him for being so suspicious. “I am not alone. My grandmother is in the woods, where I left our mule and the wagon. We heard the battle....” She stopped. Now what could she say?
    “And ye decided to come closer? Ye’ll have to tell a far better tale, my lady.” But now, his gaze swept over her, from head to toe. “Who are ye? Whom do ye visit in Nairn?”
    “I am not from the castle,” she managed to say. Had he just looked at her as if she were in a brothel and awaiting his pleasure? “We are simple folk, farmers....” She could barely speak. Men did not look at her with male interest—they were too frightened to ever do so.
    For a moment he stared.
    “My grandmother carries healing potions.” That much was true. She could finally breathe, somewhat. “If you will allow it, we will clean the wound and put a healing salve on it, then stitch it closed. I must get her, my lord. She is old and it is cold out.”
    He turned. “Fergus, go into the woods and bring back an old woman and a wagon.”
    A Highlander with long blond hair rushed off to obey.
    Alana hoped that was the end of the conversation, but it was not. He said, “Ye still cannot explain why ye rushed into the battle, mistress, when all other women would hide in the woods and pray.”
    She again had no answer to make.
    His gaze narrow, he took her shoulder and guided her with him to the largest of the tents that had just been erected. He gestured and Alana preceded him inside.
    It