“Aye,” Lachlan replied, moving the apple again. “Because I ken his da is a terrible shot and his arrow would have nae been near the child, but ye dunnae ken that.”
“What’s taking so long?” Quinn shouted.
Lachlan waved a hand in the air. “The apple is nae wanting to stay. One more move and it will be perfect.” Lachlan moved it again as his gaze held hers. “Ye vowed to me ye’d take a care with yer safety.” His desperation vibrated the words of his request.
She swallowed hard. “I will be more careful,” she whispered. He gave her a satisfactory nod before turning and striding back toward Quinn.
The Scot stepped up to shoot, and despite Lachlan’s assurance that the man’s arrow would not come anywhere near her, her heart pounded in fear. But the minute Quinn released his arrow and it arced wide to the right, well away from her, Bridgette released her breath in a rush of relief.
When Lachlan prepared to shoot, he gave her a reassuring look, but he need not have bothered. She’d seen him shoot, knew his skill, and trusted him implicitly. Lachlan’s shot was quick and perfectly aimed. The apple flew off her head when the arrow lodged in it, and when she bent down to retrieve it, it was perfectly split in half. She could not help but be impressed at his abilities.
When she turned back around, Angus, Neil, and the other men in the courtyard had gathered around Lachlan and Quinn. Lachlan stood facing the man, a hand on his shoulder. He was shaking his head, and Lachlan gave him a pat before the man ambled off, his head hung low.
She knew she should make her way back inside and stay away from Lachlan, but she could not keep away. She walked slowly toward him, noting Helena still standing off to the side. Helena watched Bridgette approach with barely veiled scorn that curled the woman’s lips and made her eyes narrow into twin slits. It hit Bridgette that the woman was most definitely jealous of her. Did Helena sense the desire between Bridgette and Lachlan? The thought frightened her. If Helena sensed it, others might, as well. And if Helena was so jealous, was it because she had grown to care for Lachlan despite his belief that she had pledged herself to him for a deceptive purpose? Perchance Helena had grown to care for Lachlan because he had joined with her? Perchance he did so every night? Bridgette’s stomach roiled. She did not think she could accept that and dismissed it from her mind.
Helena moved toward Bridgette and stepped into her path, offering a false smile. “Yer bravery was astonishing, Bridgette.”
Bridgette offered her own false smile. “Thank ye, Helena.”
“Graham is a blessed man to be marrying anhonorablewoman such as ye.”
Bridgette stiffened at the scorn in Helena’s voice. Any doubt she had that the woman suspected something between Bridgette and Lachlan disappeared. The question now was if Helena would create trouble without proof and say something to Graham when he returned. Bridgette had a burning desire to throttle Helena, but instead, she said, “If ye will excuse me, I need to refresh before supper.”
“Oh, aye, I do, too,” Helena said and surprised Bridgette by linking her arm through Bridgette’s. “We can walk together to the castle and talk on the way.”
Bridgette simply nodded, not wishing to stir Helena’s suspicion further by refusing to walk with her. As they strolled past Lachlan and the other men, Helena stopped and yanked Bridgette to a halt alongside her.
“Lachlan!” Helena called.
He looked away from Angus, who he had been talking to, and toward them. His gaze narrowed, but he came to stand in front of them. “Aye?”
“I need ye to help me dress for dinner. I dunnae care for the servant who has been helping me.”
Lachlan’s gaze darted to Bridgette. His discomfort was painfully obvious. “I’ll ensure that another servant attends ye,” he finally said, and Bridgette barely contained her sigh of relief.
Helena shook her head. “Nay. I like yer hands upon me. It must be ye.”
The worry of earlier washed over Bridgette, and all her fears seemed to be glaring back at her. She gave her arm a tug and stumbled back from Helena. Lachlan and Helena looked at her at once. “I just remembered I told Marion I’d attend her,” Bridgette lied.
Helena smirked, and Lachlan’s gaze strayed to Bridgette’s lips. When she realized she had sucked her lower one between her teeth as he had told her she always did when she lied, she immediately released it. “I’ll see ye both at supper,” she mumbled before turning and rushing away.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Marion said as Bridgette entered the great hall, where Marion was sitting all alone in a chair knitting for the bairn growing in her belly.
“Aye.” Bridgette did not want to lie to her friend, and after the encounter she had just had with Lachlan and Helena, she needed to confide in her friend now more than ever.
Marion’s eyes widened. “I rather thought you might deny it.”
Bridgette sighed as she rubbed at her temple. “I likely would have, but I just had a terrible encounter with Lachlan and Helena, and I dunnae want to lie to ye. My gut already aches with the lies in my heart.”
Marion set down her embroidery, walked over to Bridgette, and took her gently by the arm. “Come,” she encouraged, as she tugged on Bridgette.
“To where?”
“The thicket of trees. I need to search for an herb, and we will have privacy there.”
They walked in silence out of the castle, into the courtyard, and down stone steps that led to an expanse of thick bushes and trees. “What are we searching for?” Bridgette asked.
Marion bent over and peered at the ground, and then she reached out and began to move, staying hunched over as she riffled through the shrubbery. “I’m searching for opium poppy to mix with some cherry bark.” Marion stood and faced Bridgette. “I am to make a paste to loosen Helena’s tongue so Lachlan is not forced to seduce her to get the information he and Iain need.”
