Read Celtic Maid (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 2) for Free Online Page B

life.
    Titus had a commanding presence that was overbearing at times, but he’d never acted like a tyrant. Sitting beside his hearth, taking care of his kit, she’d seen a gentler side of the warrior. He’d often look up from his work and watch her. Oddly, his stare didn’t abhor Elspeth. She knew he wouldn’t harm her—he respected her. Goodness, I ken Pict men who would have tried to force themselves upon me given the same situation .
    Oft she’d glance up and swear she read longing in those dark hazel eyes. The corner of his mouth would tick up, and he’d let out a little chuckle, and then return to his work. Something about that grin always warmed her insides. And that warmth had her heart twisted in knots. She continuously had to remind herself she hated Romans, which she did. The hardest part was hating Titus. She couldn’t force herself to do that, but she could hold him at arms-length and avoid revealing too much about herself.
    Unfortunately, if the Romans decided to invade Pictland, Titus could find himself on the wrong end of a Pictish lance. Should it come to an invasion, mayhap I’ll be able to find a way to avoid a battle altogether. Mayhap he’ll trust me by then. I wouldn’t want to see him killed . The thought shocked her, and she reminded herself her loyalty was to the Picts. Sure, she’d prefer if Titus could live. But if given a choice between him and Greum? Titus and any one of her Pict brothers and sisters? It was an obvious choice. And yet the thought of making it made her stomach twist.
    Ignoring her thoughts, she blinked twice to make her eyes focus on the Romans. Spying from a distance was gaining her no information at all. She needed to be in the milecastle listening to Titus’s plans. Elspeth had no doubt his men would have their forts repaired and ready to make an offensive in short order.
    Titus and his men remained at Fort Halton Chesters that first night, and Elspeth found a grove of trees in which to hide. She hobbled Tessie beside a burn and settled for a meager meal of dried meat from her satchel and mushrooms she found nearby. She dared not make a fire, for she and the Romans were trespassing on Saxon land. She would most likely be raped and burned if found. She shuddered. Although the thought of rape sent sickly chills to her bones, she could not imagine the torturous pain of burning alive.
    The meanderings of her mind left Elspeth restless and unable to sleep under the stars. She rested upon a bed of leaves with her head on the saddle, clutching her bow in her left hand with an arrow in her right. Every noise piqued her ears, from crickets calling to leaves rustling in the canopy above. An owl hooted. Common sense told her an owl wouldn’t hoot if there was someone lurking about, but it made her uneasy. With a jolt, she decided that she needed a weapon more suitable for defending herself in close proximity if attacked. She reached down to her calf and slid her dagger from its hidden scabbard. Yes, she had spent many a night in the wild, but she had always been with kin. Alone, the nocturnal sounds taunted her like an evil spirit waking the dead.
    At some stage, she’d fallen asleep, and she awoke with a sliver of light warming her face. She squinted against the blinding sun and rolled to her side. Then her eyes popped open. Sunlight that warm could only mean one thing. Elspeth had overslept. She threw back her cloak and bolted to the burn. On her knees, she swished a handful of water around her mouth and splashed her face. She dashed back to camp and snatched a branch, raking it across the ground to cover evidence that she’d been there. Once saddled, Elspeth had little difficulty picking up the cohort’s tracks with the pummeling of the ground a few dozen horses made. Of course she could have guessed it, since the contingent naturally headed toward the next milecastle.
    As she meandered toward the fortress, movement caught her eye. A deer skittered through the trees. Her