leaned against the massive tree beside him, her shoulder touching his arm. “I’ll not push, Toran, but know that I’m here if ye ever wish to talk.”
He turned to the side, leaning his shoulder against the tree and looking at the shadows that framed her face.
“When did ye know ye wanted to be a rebel?” he asked.
“I didna come here to talk about me.”
He grinned. “I know.”
She sighed and turned as well so they faced each other. She ran a hand through her hair, pausing a moment. “When we were wee lasses, my friends and I—Annie and Fiona—made a pact that no matter what, we’d take up the cause. We would continue to fight as our ancestors had, as our sires had.”
“A lifelong conviction.”
“Aye. What is a conviction unless ye can make something of it?”
“Nothing.”
“Exactly. And what of ye? What convictions have ye made, besides those I’m already aware of?”
“No one has ever asked me that.” Toran tucked the cinnamon stick away, and she handed hers back to him.
“I am honored to be the first,” she said.
“Keep it,” he said, then referring back to what she’d said, “Clan and country have always been my focus.”
“Until they were no’.”
“Even that I’m no’ so certain about.”
She raised a brow in question.
“I might have been on the wrong side, for the wrong reasons, but I was still fighting for my mother, for my brother and sister. I wanted them all to be free from what I’d believed was a death sentence.”
“And now? Do ye believe our fight is a death sentence?”
“For some, aye. But if our cause is no’ one worthy of dying for, then it would no’ be worth it at all.”
Jenny nodded, her eyes cast down, chin tucked to her chest. “I have a healthy bit of fear for what’s to come,” she admitted. “I know the risks, and I know that there will always be an opponent out there stronger than me, faster, more skilled. I hope I dinna meet them. But that is not what has me scared most of all.”
“What is it?”
“That would be meeting Hamish on the field.”
Toran took hold of her hand, her fingers cold in his grasp. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her small knuckles. “Ye willna have to fight your brother.”
She cocked her head, thinking. “What was it like when ye saw Archie at the garrison?”
“Like being gutted with a rusty, blunt knife.”
“I was afraid ye’d say that.” She and her brother had never gotten along as children and had been at odds as adults, and even now she hated him for the decisions he’d made. But all the same, the idea of killing her own brother didn’t sit well with her. If she had to, if it came down to it, she could do her duty. But it wouldn’t be without heavy scars.
“No one would expect ye to fight your brother on the field.”
She laughed bitterly. “The thing is, Toran, that where I might turn away and show my brother mercy, he is no’ likely to do the same. If I face my brother in battle, he will try his damnedest to cut me down. He will see me no’ only as a political traitor but as having betrayed him personally as well. He will see me as the enemy, one who could topple everything he’s lied, cheated, stolen, and killed for. He will need to show the English that he took my life to prove that his own was worth something.”
Heedless of whoever could see them, Toran tugged her into his arms. She let him, circling his waist with her arms and laying her cheek against his chest.
“Bastard,” he said.
“He is.”
“I willna let him hurt ye, Jenny.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in her scent, hints of cinnamon swirling between them. “He canna take ye out of this world. Ye’re too valuable to everyone.” To me.
“I feel so ridiculous,” she murmured against his chest. “I’m the leader of a regiment I recruited myself. I’ve fought dragoons, outsmarted them, and here I’m practically blubbering like a bairn over a skirmish with my big brother.”
Toran chuckled softly. “’Tis no’ just a skirmish, lass, and even the toughest of warriors sometimes have to break down—if only to build themselves back up again. Ye’re stronger than ye know. Just look around ye.”
She pulled away, peering into the woods at the dozen or so fires where men talked, slept, ate.
“Ye’re their leader, Jenny, whether ye’re blubbering against my