“Ye’ve been in my camp for nigh on a fortnight and yet I havenae met ye,” the man said, coming to a halt before Helena.

She had to crane her neck back just to meet the Scotsman’s sharp, dark eyes. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry and her tongue wooden.

“It isnae yer camp,” Logan said, coming up behind the man. “And ye ken why the lass has kept to my hut.”

With the fierce fighting she’d just witnessed fresh in her mind, Helena tensed, expecting at any moment for fists to start flying, but to her surprise, the man looming over her cocked a droll eyebrow at Logan before turning back to her.

“I am Ansel Sutherland,” he said, tilting his head in greeting. “And though this camp truly belongs to Robert the Bruce, I run it.”

“Helena,” she squeaked, dipping into a quick curtsy.

“Helena what?” Ansel asked bluntly.

“Just Helena,” Logan cut in. “That is enough for now.”

She turned grateful eyes on Logan, only to find her gaze lingering on his bare chest. This close, she noticed a light dusting of freckles across his shoulders. A few bruises darkened his ribs, no doubt from one of these brutal training sessions. He stood as tall and broad of shoulder as Ansel, and yet something about his form mesmerized her.

“Lady Helena.” Kirk had approached as well, though he’d donned his shirt. He tipped his head, his piercing blue eyes never leaving hers.

“Please, just Helena,” she said.

If Logan had so quickly noticed that she was not a commoner, no doubt Kirk would too, for his sharp gaze seemed to miss naught. Yet if Helena was truly going to start over, to escape the life she’d had—and the death she’d foreseen—at Craigmoor, shedding her title was necessary.

The others were slowly gathering around, staring curiously at Helena as they slipped on their shirts and moved closer.

A big bear of a man, whose red hair was liberally splashed with gray, pushed through Ansel and Logan without hesitation.

“Milady, I am Angus MacLeod,” he said with a bow.

“Kirk’s uncle?” she asked, glancing at Mairin, who stood in silence a pace behind her.

Before Mairin could confirm what she’d told Helena, Angus himself barked a laugh. “My reputation precedes me, as it often does with the lassies.”

Ansel snorted at that, and Kirk actually rolled his eyes.

Angus went on as if he hadn’t noticed them. “Aye, I am the laddie’s uncle, and the resident old codger here at camp. Someone has to keep these young bucks in line.”

The youngest of the men stepped forward then. “Niall Beaumore,” he said, bowing.

Helena gasped. Niall spoke with a distinct English accent. An Englishman amongst the elite warriors training for Robert the Bruce was the last thing she’d believe, but it seemed she should expect the unexpected when it came to the Highlands.

Niall lifted his russet head, a smile in his bright blue eyes for Helena before he riveted his gaze on Mairin. Then the lad’s face transformed from easy warmth to nervous awe.

“Mairin. How do you fare today?”

Mairin dropped her eyes to the forest floor and lifted one shoulder in a silent shrug. Because she was standing closest to the girl, Helena noticed that her mouth was outlined in white where she pressed her lips together.

His face slipping into disappointment, the young man stepped back, though he continued to watch Mairin with those bright, perceptive eyes.

The last of the men moved forward then, and Helena almost stepped back from the dark scowl he gave her. His sandy blond head stood as tall as Logan’s, and the breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his arms told Helena that he had a few years on Niall, but the glower turning down his mouth and furrowing his brow didn’t seem suited to one in his prime.

One blue-green eye fixed on her. The other was covered by a black patch of cloth.

“Will Sinclair,” he said flatly. He tipped his head, but before she could even speak a greeting to him, he spun on his heels and strode off across the practice field.

Ansel watched Will go for a moment, then turned a scrutinizing gaze on Helena.

“I have a few questions for ye, Helena,” he said.

Logan practically shot arrows at Ansel with his steely eyes.

“But they can wait,” Ansel amended, once again lifting an eyebrow at Logan. “Ye have quite the champion in Mackenzie here. He seems to think we can trust ye.”

“You can,” Helena said quickly. “I will not cause trouble. I simply…needed a fresh start.”

“And ye think ye can have that here—in Scotland, the Highlands no less, amongst men serving King Robert the Bruce?”

Helena did not miss the skeptical criticism in his voice. She was English, after all, and these men had dedicated themselves to the Bruce’s cause for Scottish freedom from England’s tyranny.

“Aye,” she said, straightening to her full height and holding Ansel’s searching stare evenly. “I would never betray you, and I’ll work hard to prove myself to you and the others.”

Ansel grunted, pursing his lips for a moment. He glanced up and assessed the midday sun.

“Take the rest of the day for yerselves,” he said over his shoulder to the men. Without addressing what Helena had said, he gave her a curt nod, then turned and strode away.

As the others dispersed, Logan retrieved his discarded tunic and donned it as he returned to Helena and Mairin’s side.

It was then that Helena noticed just how fatigued Mairin looked. Her honey-brown head and shoulders drooped, and her dove-gray eyes were taking on that hollow, haunted look that foretold of her struggles.

The three of them walked back to the hut in silence. Once they were inside, Mairin immediately retreated to her chamber, murmuring that she was going to rest. When her door closed and the hut fell quiet, Helena found herself gazing longingly at the sunlight pouring in around the shutters.

“It is a fine day,” Logan said, following her eyes. “If ye have the energy, would ye walk with me awhile?”

“Aye,” Helena breathed, grateful for the opportunity to be out of doors once more.

It was also an opportunity to be alone with Logan.

Though she knew it was wrong, warmth spiked low in her belly.

Drawing in a breath, she placed her hand on his extended arm and let him lead her from the hut into the shaded woods.