Unfortunately, here and now she was Robbie, and his men were watching. He didn’t want them to guess he was in love with a scrawny lad who possessed the remarkable ability to grow a mustache.
“Ye were smiling there for a moment,” she murmured.
“So I was.” His lips curled ruefully. “I was thinking what I wanted to do to ye.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” She shot him a grin. “I was admiring yer arse dimples.”
Unbidden, his finger dropped to his lower back, searching for the dimples she claimed he had on either side of his spine.
Her laughter stopped him, and he found himself chuckling and shaking his head.
“Ye’re a joy, Robena,” he murmured.
“I am.” She winked at him. “Wait ‘til ye hear my next song!”
* * *
That eveningthey made camp beside a stream which ran into a copse of trees. The men were at ease, knowing they were deep within an ally’s land, although Kester made certain they were divided into the usual watches.
Auld Gommy was roasting a brace of hares Giric had taken with his bow, and the mood was light.
“Ye ken, Laird,” Weesil said suddenly, his attention on oiling his blades. “We’re no’ so far from Murray land.”
“Are we going in circles, then?” rumbled Mook. “We’ve been traveling for days and we left the Murrays back home, I thought.”
“Aye, ye big dobber.” Giric smiled as he tossed the big man an apple. “But Weesil’s talking about the other side of their land. We’ve been forced to travel around it, but we’re coming up on the other side of the Murrays.”
“Oooh.” Mook bit into the apple. “So, they dinnae ken about us over here?” he asked as he chewed.
Auld Gommy’s head popped up wearing a wickedly contemplative grin, and Giric glanced at Weesil, his brows raised.
“He’s right,” Weesil murmured. “They wouldnae be expecting us over here.”
Giric fair beamed excitement when he turned to Kester. “What about it, laird? We could cause some mischief to those bastards, make ‘em remember us. ‘Tis petty, aye, but ’twould be nice.”
Kester, who was resting with his back to a boulder as he idly flipped his dagger from one hand to the other, glanced at Robena. She was either totally engrossed in her lute or she was doing a good impression of paying them no attention.
Auld Gommy shook a spoon at them. “That bastard Murray deserves all the trouble we can offer him, Laird! That alliance isnae final until ye sign the marriage contract with Lady Elspeth! Let us take some revenge for ye, eh?”
Robena hunched further over her instrument. Kester wished he could see her expression, although he suspected from the tightness in her shoulders that it wouldn’t be pretty.
Slowly, he nodded. “I cannae deny ‘twould be nice.”
“Just a bit of fun, Laird,” Weesil wheedled, “afore ye’re shackled to a wife ye dinnae want.”
“Puir bastard,” muttered Giric.
Mook crunched on the apple. “Better him than us.”
Kester shrugged, unable to deny the appeal of one more chance to make Murray pay. Because of that old bastard, Kester was forced to choose between what was best for his clan and what felt best for himself. He knew he would do what his clan needed…but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
“I’ll consider it, aright?”
Giric hooted and punched the air. “The day after next, we’ll be alongside their land! Let’s come up with some ideas, lads!”
Robena’s head had jerked up at Giric’s announcement. “Then…we’re so close to the Games?”
She knew her maps. Kester shouldn’t be surprised. “Aye, la—lad. Only a few more days’ travel and we’ll be there.”