Conall: The 93rd Highlanders, Book Two Read Online Free

Graeme
froze at the contact, heat racing down his arm to his fingertips.
He felt his cheeks warm. “Munro,” Conall said. “Many thanks for
taking up for me like that, especially considering my behavior
today.”
    Graeme turned slowly,
breaking Conall’s hold on his shoulder. “It was the
truth.”
    “ I appreciate
the support and the respect you gave me.” Conall smiled ruefully.
“I’ll try to deserve it.”
    “ I know you
will,” Graeme told him, staring over Conall’s shoulder, afraid if
he met his eyes he’d give too much away. “You do already.” He
couldn’t resist Conall’s pull and finally looked at him. Why this
man? God knew, redheaded, blue-eyed Scotsmen were abundant here.
But none like Conall, none with his sense of loyalty and bravery
and honest emotion. “It’s more than respect,” he said. Without
waiting for a response, he walked off, leaving Conall staring after
him.
     
     
    “ And you’re
back,” Avril said with disgust, standing there holding back the
door of the hut with one hand, the other hand on her hip. “It’s
only hours since I sent you off. Checking up on me, are you?” She
stepped out of the way and waved a hand at the empty interior of
the hut. “No men here. Just me. As usual.” She let the door go, but
Munro caught it and stepped inside before letting it close behind
him. Avril let him in. Truth told, she’d missed his conversation.
He’d been her constant companion since Conall had gotten hurt and
been shipped off to Scutari.
    “ I missed
you.”
    She turned slowly and
faced the captain. Never once had he admitted any sort of feeling
for her. Now Conall was back and he was practically declaring
himself.
    “ Staking your
claim, eh?” she asked suspiciously. “Since you’ve not taken
advantage of what I’ve offered, I can’t figure out what you’re
about. Trying to make Conall jealous?”
    “ No.”
    She waited in vain for
him to say more, suddenly remembering most of their conversations
had been her talking and him grunting every now and then. “Not
going to tell me, then, I see,” she said. “You’ve always been one
for your secrets.” She sighed. “Well, don’t be hoping Conall will
show up. By now he’s realized I’m a tart and there’s prettier,
younger, more virtuous women about, and more fitting to his
station.”
    “ No, there
aren’t.” Munro looked at her with those eyes of his. In the dim
light of the stove he ought to have been menacing, with his dark
coloring and size, but she didn’t fear him. Never had. He was
fierce, it was true, but he’d always been kind and gentle with
her.
    “ Flattery
will get you everywhere,” she said sarcastically, and had the
pleasure of seeing a small grin on his face. This one didn’t smile
often. “Here, then,” she said, “give me your coat. I can see plain
you’ve got a button coming loose.”
    He looked down, and for a
moment she had a flash of what he might have looked like as a boy.
Without another word he began to unbuckle his scabbard. She turned
away. She didn’t know what she’d do, honestly, if she were to watch
him undress even that much. She took a deep breath and closed her
eyes and prayed for strength.
    “ Here,” he
said. She turned and took his jacket from him. He’d taken off his
gloves, and when their bare hands met she shivered. She barely
glanced at his chest, now covered by just a thin shirt.
    “ Take this,”
she told him, grabbing her one blanket off her cot. “It’s not much,
but it’ll warm you.”
    “ Thank you,”
he said.
    She sat down on a small
stool someone had given her. One of her soldiers. There were many
who came to her for the little things, like cooking and mending.
She didn’t mind. They paid her, and she was storing the coins away
for passage back home.
    She pulled out needle and
thread from her small box of sundries and began to work. The
silence between them was easy, as though he sat and watched her
work often. She supposed he had done so