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knew the truth.
    Fear clawed at her spine.
    “Can I get ye something?” One of the guards stepped from his post to speak to her. His form was tense, stiff, as though he thought she might strike him.
    Mariana gifted him with one of her flirtatious smiles—the one she used when King Edward was ranting about the Scots. “Thank you, monsieur , but I only wanted to find a creek to wash my hands and face.” She held out her hands, showing the soot, and hoping to gain his pity.
    He nodded. “Just a dozen or so yards that way.” He pointed behind her.
    Before the man could change h is mind, she dipped him a curtsy and rushed into the trees. Two yards in, she was tripping over the copious amount of fabric that was Brandon’s cloak. A disgruntled growl left her lips as she yanked it from beneath her feet, and then from a branch it had caught on—and a loud tearing sound rent the air.
    “ Mon dieu !” she snapped.
    Mariana carefully pulled the fabric from the branch and examined the damage. A jagged three inch tear. She exhaled, annoyed that her clumsiness had ruined his cloak. Well, she’d have to apologize and then promptly ask for needle and thread. Though she wasn’t the best at sewing, a tear this size couldn’t be too hard to repair.
    Gathering the billowing fabric in her arms, she trudged forward in search of the stream the guard mentioned. She could hear water trickling and knew she was getting close. She quickened her pace, but an odd feeling had her stopping mid-stride.
    The hair raised on the back of her neck and gooseflesh covered her arms. Her breath quickened. She sensed she was being watched, but the feeling was menacing, as if she were going to be pounced on.
    Trying to breathe evenly, and not succeeding, she glanced around several trees. There was nothing untoward in sight. But Mariana wasn’t stupid enough to think that an enemy who intended her harm would simply show themselves. That would be as unwise as her undressing and standing nude in front of a bunch of lusty warriors. Nay, the feeling skating uneasily along her limbs was that of prey being stalked by an animal of higher power.
    Soot be damned, she was going back to camp. Perhaps Brandon had returned from his chat with Wallace and would escort her back to the water.

    Brandon stood in a tight circle with Wallace, Ronan and Julianna, the latter of whom kept tossing suspicious glances behind him to the spot where he’d left Mariana. It took all of his willpower not to look. Irritation bit at the edges of his nerves, but truthfully he couldn’t blame Julianna. The warrior-woman was usually right. She had great instincts and wouldn’t be the Bruce’s personal guard if she wasn’t. And as much as he hated to admit it, Brandon was beginning to believe there was something not quite right about Mariana’s situation. But, he wanted to be the one who handled it—not Julianna. Best to catch the woman off guard. He’d found Mariana and he would get to the bottom of her secrets…and possibly steal a kiss or four in the process.
    Clearing his throat, Brandon glanced at Wallace who nodded. “She’s spoken of Ross,” Brandon told the small group. They’d moved out of hearing distance from anyone else, but even still he glanced over their shoulders to make certain no one had tried to sneak closer—namely Mariana. The lass knew he was going to speak to them about her situation, but he’d rather she not hear it. “She reported that Ross has gone. He fled after setting the fire, with instructions for her to remain behind and report back to him, as well as an army in the eastern woods and the bait ye found by the burn.”
    “And no others?” Ronan asked skeptically.
    Brandon narrowed his brows, pressed his lips together. “There were others, she said. But they perished in the fires. She was trying to help, but eventually ran, and that’s when we found her.”
    “Who is she?” Ronan crossed his arms over his chest, the way he did when trying to