from the effort of her movements. She batted at the sides of her face with the back of her hand. "I am done here." She stiffened and turned away, as though afraid to look at him.
Simon studied her downcast face. She was hanging on to her self-control by a thread, trying so hard to be invincible. But he could see past her facade. And the scared, lonely woman standing before him tore at his heart. He recalled his own moments of doubt as a young man who'd been sent away from home to learn how to become a warrior. He remembered the cold, lonely nights in the monastery, staring into the darkness, praying for something more.
The fear and painful loneliness was something he understood. An almost aching tenderness unfolded within him. He needed to reach out to her, to weave his fingers around hers. He wanted to take her into his arms and, without words, let her know she wasn't as alone as she thought.
"Brianna?" Her name, spoken so gently, hung between them.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. In her eyes he saw a faint, hesitant stirring of hope. "Couldn't sleep?"
She shook her head as she sheathed her weapon. "I thought exhaustion might help."
He curled his fingers at his side, fighting the urge to draw her near. "Did it?"
She released a tired sigh and leaned back against a human-sized boulder at the edge of the field. "Not in the way I needed."
He strode toward her and positioned himself next to her with his back against the rock. Her nearness sent a jolt of warmth down his spine. He looked up at the night sky, seeking a distraction. Above him stretched an inky cloak speckled with thousands upon thousands of stars. "It seems we both failed to attain our goals this eve." He brought his gaze back to her.
She turned her face to him. Even in the meager moonlight he could see the paleness of her skin, the slight lines of worry that bracketed her mouth. "I am sorry my father refused to see you. What did you come to ask him?"
"Are there truly catacombs beneath Rosslyn Chapel?"
She nodded and her lips lifted in a partial smile. "They are deep and many. It's where I used to practice with my old iron sword as a young lady when my father and brothers stopped allowing me to train with them." Her smile faded. "That was until my father caught me and sent me away."
It was his turn to frown. "He sent you away?"
She nodded. "To a convent. He was determined to make me a lady, one way or another. When Abigail's teachings failed, he thought the sisters might have better luck." A lost, almost tortured expression passed through her eyes.
"I didn't know."
She shrugged and pushed away from the rock. "There are many things you don't know about me."
He stared into her huge, pain-darkened eyes and felt as if he were drowning in the need to hold her. She stood right beside him, so close and yet distinctly separate, alone as always, untouchable. And now he understood the pain that was ever-present in her eyes. She waited for the world to attack her, to blindside her, to betray her yet again.
He moved awkwardly toward her as pain snagged his heart. She expected him to betray her as well. "I didn't understand before, but I do now."
Even in the darkness he could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
Neither did he. He needed distance if he were to keep his thoughts focused on their mission. Simon drew a sharp breath of the cool night air into his lungs, the coolness reminding him with crystal clarity what his true purpose was: to locate de la Roche and stop him from harming anyone else. Both he and Brianna had a task to do. That duty allowed for no interference from their past. He straightened and pushed away from the rock. "Do you think you are tired enough to dream now?"
She turned away. "The only way to find out is to try to sleep."
"Then let's return to camp," he said, his words sharper than he'd meant them to be. Her dreams were the key to their success.
And nothing else besides finding de la
Simon studied her downcast face. She was hanging on to her self-control by a thread, trying so hard to be invincible. But he could see past her facade. And the scared, lonely woman standing before him tore at his heart. He recalled his own moments of doubt as a young man who'd been sent away from home to learn how to become a warrior. He remembered the cold, lonely nights in the monastery, staring into the darkness, praying for something more.
The fear and painful loneliness was something he understood. An almost aching tenderness unfolded within him. He needed to reach out to her, to weave his fingers around hers. He wanted to take her into his arms and, without words, let her know she wasn't as alone as she thought.
"Brianna?" Her name, spoken so gently, hung between them.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. In her eyes he saw a faint, hesitant stirring of hope. "Couldn't sleep?"
She shook her head as she sheathed her weapon. "I thought exhaustion might help."
He curled his fingers at his side, fighting the urge to draw her near. "Did it?"
She released a tired sigh and leaned back against a human-sized boulder at the edge of the field. "Not in the way I needed."
He strode toward her and positioned himself next to her with his back against the rock. Her nearness sent a jolt of warmth down his spine. He looked up at the night sky, seeking a distraction. Above him stretched an inky cloak speckled with thousands upon thousands of stars. "It seems we both failed to attain our goals this eve." He brought his gaze back to her.
She turned her face to him. Even in the meager moonlight he could see the paleness of her skin, the slight lines of worry that bracketed her mouth. "I am sorry my father refused to see you. What did you come to ask him?"
"Are there truly catacombs beneath Rosslyn Chapel?"
She nodded and her lips lifted in a partial smile. "They are deep and many. It's where I used to practice with my old iron sword as a young lady when my father and brothers stopped allowing me to train with them." Her smile faded. "That was until my father caught me and sent me away."
It was his turn to frown. "He sent you away?"
She nodded. "To a convent. He was determined to make me a lady, one way or another. When Abigail's teachings failed, he thought the sisters might have better luck." A lost, almost tortured expression passed through her eyes.
"I didn't know."
She shrugged and pushed away from the rock. "There are many things you don't know about me."
He stared into her huge, pain-darkened eyes and felt as if he were drowning in the need to hold her. She stood right beside him, so close and yet distinctly separate, alone as always, untouchable. And now he understood the pain that was ever-present in her eyes. She waited for the world to attack her, to blindside her, to betray her yet again.
He moved awkwardly toward her as pain snagged his heart. She expected him to betray her as well. "I didn't understand before, but I do now."
Even in the darkness he could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
Neither did he. He needed distance if he were to keep his thoughts focused on their mission. Simon drew a sharp breath of the cool night air into his lungs, the coolness reminding him with crystal clarity what his true purpose was: to locate de la Roche and stop him from harming anyone else. Both he and Brianna had a task to do. That duty allowed for no interference from their past. He straightened and pushed away from the rock. "Do you think you are tired enough to dream now?"
She turned away. "The only way to find out is to try to sleep."
"Then let's return to camp," he said, his words sharper than he'd meant them to be. Her dreams were the key to their success.
And nothing else besides finding de la
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