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that had nearly killed her.
    “Are you feeling all right, lassie?” Logan asked as he dismounted. “You’ve not looked well these past few miles.”
    “You’ve been keeping an eye on me, have you?” she asked as she, too, attempted to dismount. She felt slightly dizzy, however, and had to pause.
    “Let me help you.” Logan reached up to assist.
    Laying her hands on his broad shoulders, she slid down from the saddle and came to rest lightly on her feet before him. He was not as tall or muscular as his older brother, and certainly not as darkly menacing. His hair was the color of honey and his eyes were blue, but there could be no doubt about it. He was equally handsome.
    Logan’s hands still rested on her hips as he looked into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
    “I’m fine, truly.”
    Slowly, he shook his head. “I don’t think so, lass.” He untied a rolled up woolen blanket from the back of his saddle and took hold of her hand, then led her away from the water to the dark edge of the forest.
    “Plant yourself right here.” He spread the blanket out on the ground under a large sycamore.
    “Thank you.” Larena sat down, stretched her legs out, leaned back on her arms, and closed her eyes. “That’s better.”
    Logan dropped to one knee before her. “The surgeon at Kinloch said you might feel a bit woozy for a few days, on account of the swelling in your head.”
    “I have a swelled head, do I?” she asked, opening her eyes and giving him a look.
    Logan returned her smile. “You’d have every reason to suffer with that affliction, lass. You must receive many compliments, from men and women alike.”
    She raised an eyebrow at him which only encouraged him to continue. “Surely you know how beautiful you are. You have fine cheekbones, hair like a summer sunrise…and the most friendly eyes. They make a man feel at ease.”
    She regarded him uncertainly in the moonlight. “Are you flirting with me, Logan? I hardly think that’s wise. Aren’t you supposed to loath all Campbells?”
    “It’s my brother who cannot let go of the past,” he replied.
    Just then, Darach’s big black warhorse trotted onto the pebbly beach. They both turned their attention toward him as he rode straight to the water’s edge and waited for his horse to drink his fill before backing up and dismounting.
    Logan spoke with a hint of apology in his tone. “I should help set up camp. Will you be all right here for now?”
    “Of course. Thank you.”
    “I’ll take care of Rupert and bring you something to eat,” Logan added. “Just lie back and rest.”
    As he left her side, Larena was uncomfortably aware of Darach watching his brother take up his duties. Then Darach turned his dark, steely gaze to meet hers. He held her transfixed for a tension-filled moment before he looked away and began to unsaddle his horse.
    * * *
    A short while later, they were all seated around a small campfire eating bread, salt pork, and cheese. Darach was stretched out on his bedroll on the opposite side of the fire, leaning back on an elbow with his legs crossed at the ankles, while Logan sat beside Larena on a fallen tree.
    “How long will it take us to reach Leathan Castle?” she asked, directing her question at Darach.
    “Five days,” he replied as he tipped his leather flask up to take a swig of whatever was inside—that swift-kicking whisky, no doubt. “Six if the weather is poor and the rivers swell.”
    “Don’t worry, lass,” Logan said, leaning close. “We’ll be there in plenty of time to deliver the King’s pardon. Your father will live. No matter what it takes, we’ll make sure of it. Would you like some more wine?”
    “That would be very nice, thank you.” She held out her cup which he refilled from the bottle he’d brought along in one of his saddle bags.
    For the next little while, Logan engaged her in conversation about her upbringing. He asked questions about her brothers and how she’d