she cursed herself for it. The man deserved no more of her tears. "Let's just say my father and I see the world differently."
He studied her as Kaden and Abigail brought their horses alongside Brianna and Simon.
"Is there a problem?" Kaden asked.
"Of course not," Brianna replied, catching the look of concern on Abigail's face. Abigail understood.
Simon's gaze continued to probe Brianna's.
She straightened and looked away, hiding her pain.
"Trust in me, Brianna."
She glanced back at him. She could almost believe him. Sweet heavens, she needed someone with whom she could talk who understood her need to pick up a sword. She was so alone.
Brianna shook herself. What was she thinking? After the turmoil she'd been through, had she learned nothing? She could trust no one. She smiled with an effort. "I need nothing from you, Simon."
A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. "Then if we have nothing to discuss, let us proceed."
Brianna shook her head. "You and Kaden will go alone. Abigail and I shall remain here and set up camp for the night. By the time you get back, darkness will be upon us."
Anger darkened Simon's features. "Have it your way then. Set up camp and, by the heavens, you had better prepare our evening meal before we return."
She looked directly into his eyes. "Good fortune with my father; and by the way, beware the dead wolfhound that haunts these grounds. Mauthe Doog has terrified many a man away from Rosslyn Castle with his eerie baying and sudden ghostly appearances."
His gaze narrowed. "I am not scared of ghosts, your father, or you, Brianna. Be forewarned yourself."
Brianna felt a gust of cold wind as he and Kaden sent their horses cantering over the bridge toward her one-time home. Her gaze followed Simon's broad, mailed back. Trust him ? The last time she had trusted him, he had exposed her secret identity to the Templars, and broken her heart. She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the man's strength and power. A part of her realized he'd had no choice but to betray her. That perhaps things might be different between them now. What would it feel like to have an ally? She was terribly weary of battling her dreams and desires alone…
"He would be kinder to you than your father."
Brianna opened her eyes and glanced at Abigail. "Or he will tear me apart." She shook her head. "I don't want to think about my father or anything else right now except making camp." Brianna dismounted and drew her horse to a thicket of grass. She tied the reins loosely to a nearby branch so the animal could feed. "I will see to the shelter if you prepare a meal."
Abigail slid from her horse. "Or, you could allow me to teach you how to cook over a fire. There will be a day that you might need to know how to cook, Brianna."
She ignored, once again, Abigail's attempt to domesticate her. "I'll go find us a hare."
Abigail sighed, and handed Brianna her horse's reins. "All right, child. But someday…"
Brianna felt her lips pull up in a smile. Not if she could help it.
The sound of baying filled the night air.
Brianna stared up at the twisting shadows cast by the moonlight through the woven ferns and sticks overhead. The shelter she had built for herself and Abigail, and another further away for Simon and Kaden, protected them from the rain and mist, but not from the sounds of the night keeping her awake.
She wasn't scared of Mauthe Doog. She'd seen his apparition twice before in her life: Both times had been on nights before her father had sent her away, first to the abbey, then to the woods.
Darkness closed in on Brianna, wrapping around her like a shroud of black cloth. Thick, lifeless, and deceptively soft, it covered her nose and mouth, pressed against her lungs, suffocating her with memory. She drew a gasping breath and glanced around wildly, trying to see something, anything that would not feed her fear of being sent away again.
Her heart thudded in her chest, pounded against her rib cage as she
He studied her as Kaden and Abigail brought their horses alongside Brianna and Simon.
"Is there a problem?" Kaden asked.
"Of course not," Brianna replied, catching the look of concern on Abigail's face. Abigail understood.
Simon's gaze continued to probe Brianna's.
She straightened and looked away, hiding her pain.
"Trust in me, Brianna."
She glanced back at him. She could almost believe him. Sweet heavens, she needed someone with whom she could talk who understood her need to pick up a sword. She was so alone.
Brianna shook herself. What was she thinking? After the turmoil she'd been through, had she learned nothing? She could trust no one. She smiled with an effort. "I need nothing from you, Simon."
A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. "Then if we have nothing to discuss, let us proceed."
Brianna shook her head. "You and Kaden will go alone. Abigail and I shall remain here and set up camp for the night. By the time you get back, darkness will be upon us."
Anger darkened Simon's features. "Have it your way then. Set up camp and, by the heavens, you had better prepare our evening meal before we return."
She looked directly into his eyes. "Good fortune with my father; and by the way, beware the dead wolfhound that haunts these grounds. Mauthe Doog has terrified many a man away from Rosslyn Castle with his eerie baying and sudden ghostly appearances."
His gaze narrowed. "I am not scared of ghosts, your father, or you, Brianna. Be forewarned yourself."
Brianna felt a gust of cold wind as he and Kaden sent their horses cantering over the bridge toward her one-time home. Her gaze followed Simon's broad, mailed back. Trust him ? The last time she had trusted him, he had exposed her secret identity to the Templars, and broken her heart. She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the man's strength and power. A part of her realized he'd had no choice but to betray her. That perhaps things might be different between them now. What would it feel like to have an ally? She was terribly weary of battling her dreams and desires alone…
"He would be kinder to you than your father."
Brianna opened her eyes and glanced at Abigail. "Or he will tear me apart." She shook her head. "I don't want to think about my father or anything else right now except making camp." Brianna dismounted and drew her horse to a thicket of grass. She tied the reins loosely to a nearby branch so the animal could feed. "I will see to the shelter if you prepare a meal."
Abigail slid from her horse. "Or, you could allow me to teach you how to cook over a fire. There will be a day that you might need to know how to cook, Brianna."
She ignored, once again, Abigail's attempt to domesticate her. "I'll go find us a hare."
Abigail sighed, and handed Brianna her horse's reins. "All right, child. But someday…"
Brianna felt her lips pull up in a smile. Not if she could help it.
The sound of baying filled the night air.
Brianna stared up at the twisting shadows cast by the moonlight through the woven ferns and sticks overhead. The shelter she had built for herself and Abigail, and another further away for Simon and Kaden, protected them from the rain and mist, but not from the sounds of the night keeping her awake.
She wasn't scared of Mauthe Doog. She'd seen his apparition twice before in her life: Both times had been on nights before her father had sent her away, first to the abbey, then to the woods.
Darkness closed in on Brianna, wrapping around her like a shroud of black cloth. Thick, lifeless, and deceptively soft, it covered her nose and mouth, pressed against her lungs, suffocating her with memory. She drew a gasping breath and glanced around wildly, trying to see something, anything that would not feed her fear of being sent away again.
Her heart thudded in her chest, pounded against her rib cage as she
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