Rogue's Challenge (10 page)
Michael pointed toward shore. “We're coming in tae dock."
"You tend the horses while I escort the lady to shore,” Ian said. He looked down and noticed Jenny rubbing her brow, her eyes clamped closed. “Are you ill?"
She sighed and straightened. “Just a headache. I'll be okay once we get on the road."
He grinned at her determined nature. Odd that she wasn't afraid like any other sensible woman. But then Jenny Maxwell was not like any woman he had ever known.
They made their way ashore and he paused before lifting her to her mount. It would be best if they could put some distance between the men from the boat and themselves. He gave a nod to Michael who seemed to grasp his intent.
Ian mounted his horse as Michael stole up behind Jenny. The lad then snatched her by the waist and planted her firmly behind him.
"What—"
"Hold on,” Ian said, as he grabbed her hands and wound them around his waist.
Within seconds they were galloping out of the small town with Michael just behind leading her horse. Ian had not counted on the woman gripping him so tightly, nearly cutting off his breath, but he suspected she was terrified with the harried ride and he would not ask her to loosen her hold.
Miles away, they slowed to a steady lope then to a walk. Jenny had yet to loosen her grip. He twisted in the saddle and pulled her around to sit across his lap.
"'Tis over, I promise,” he said softly, her head pressed beneath his chin, her fists clutching his doublet.
"Are y-you s-s-sure?"
He rubbed her quivering limbs. “Aye, little one. Very sure.” He cursed himself for terrifying her so, but they'd had little choice. Her rare beauty was attracting too much attention. The more distance he could place between them and others the better. He could deal with anyone who sought to harm or abduct her on the road more efficiently than when surrounded by a league of unknowns.
She lifted her head and peered about. “How long can I—I mean, how long do I have to ride like this?"
He bit back a chuckle. She was far too afraid to ride alone, even at a slow walk, but she refused to admit it. His horse was strong, however, and could carry them both for a while.
"I think we should ride double for a few more miles. Does that not suit you?"
"No, that's fine. Fine,” she said with a small sigh and relaxed in his arms. The more he held her the more he felt she belonged there, but he knew that was not the case. Their differences were too vast, their lives too dissimilar, and he was not looking for a wife.
Liar, a voice whispered in the back of his mind.
Do you not recall your jealousy of Colin's life but a few days ago?
He clenched his teeth at the memory, but allowed the truth to settle over his brain.
Aye, he craved what his friend had, and could almost believe it possible someday, but this woman was not the one. He may lust after her, feel an overwhelming need to protect her, but he did not love her. Not as Colin loved Amelia. No, what Ian needed was a woman he had similarities with, a woman who shared his view of the world, one who had a thirst for adventure, and would keep him from ever wanting to wander. For if he ever did marry, he would be faithful. He would not be his father.
Ian vowed to prove the harpies of his youth wrong. He may look like Wallace Southernland, he may have his blood running through his veins, but he was his own man. But where does a bastard such as himself find a woman who could look on him in such a way?
"Can we stop for a minute?” Jenny asked, lifting the melancholy easing over him as she peered at him with those enchanting eyes of hers. “My leg's falling asleep."
"Aye. And I think ‘tis safe enough for you to return to your horse.” Better there than in his lap where his body bade his mind to follow down a path he could not go.
The way she'd tended him as he fought against seasickness, the feel of her small hands in his hair, her warm body pressed to his. No, all would be better served if he kept a much greater distance between them. He was a man, after all, and could only resist so much temptation. For he suspected she was a woman who would keep him well and content in his bed.
They rode until the sun lay low in the sky before stopping for the night. Unfortunately, the weather had turned wet, but thanks to Amelia's incessant harping about Jenny not being accustomed to such travel, Ian had packed a large piece of cloth to suspend between a few trees for her privacy.
Yet with the weather as it was, he decided ‘twould better serve if he hung the thing so they all could sleep in relatively dry conditions. The only problem, he feared, were the close quarters. Temptation lay nestled between him and Michael, her breast rising and falling with each soft breath. Amazed, he was that she had succumbed so quickly to sleep.
"Do you truly think someone is after the lass?” Michael asked quietly.
"I know not, but I shall not take nary a chance. Once we reach Edinburgh and an inn, we shall take turns standing guard outside her door during the night. Until then, we cannot let her out of our sight for one moment."
Michael chuckled. “She willna like that, I'll wager. She's a bit like Tuck with her independence."
"Aye, that she is. But she will have no say in the matter."
"Do you no’ think those two men were eyein’ her over much? Odd, I thought."
"Why odd? She is a beautiful woman."
"Och, no’ nearly as pretty as my Fiona. But aye, she would be a prize tae some men. And most in the village know you've no wife and that I'm tae marry Fiona. She looks tae the world free fer the takin'. Still, she's so small and frail, and canna see. A mon wants a woman who willna break so easily. One that can work alongside him and give him strong bairns."
Ian cast a glance to the woman lying peacefully between them. “That frail woman held on with a firm grip during our dash from port. And I would not account it all to her fear of riding. No, she is not weak, my young friend. She has the sort of strength you cannot see, the sort many men would envy. And with her fey-like beauty she would be a prize on the arm of any man."
"I think you've gone daft on the lass,” Michael said with a low chuckle. “But I've no’ of a mind tae bandy that about,” he added quickly. “I'd like tae keep my head. ‘Tis your business and hers what goes on betwixt you."
Ian shook his head with a wry grin. Even love struck Michael could see his desire for Jenny. How many others saw the same? Colin knew of his attraction for her, but what of Amelia, and Lord save him, Elspeth, that matchmaking woman? And what of Jenny herself?
He glanced at her sleeping form, the subtle curve of her hip, the gentle rise of her breasts, that seductive bow-like mouth, begging to be kissed. It was a good thing she had no spectacles at present. She would see quite clearly every thought now speeding through his mind, and she would not be happy about it.
Trying to push his libidinous thoughts from his mind, he lay alongside her, his brow creased. What the devil was he going to do when she could see?
Duck, he thought, with a small chuckle.
The next day after a quick breakfast and a few hours of riding, they ate in the saddle. Not a pleasant way to spend one's lunch, but Jenny understood Ian's worry over their safety. A puzzle she had yet to decipher. Why would anyone in this time want to grab her?
Ian motioned for her and Michael to stay back as they came upon a farmhouse. A man came out of the barn just as Ian approached. Jenny couldn't hear what they were saying, but it looked congenial enough. The man wasn't pointing his rake or whatever it was at Ian in a rude manner. As a matter of fact they seemed well acquainted.
After a few moments, Ian motioned for them to come forward. “Donald here has given us permission to use his barn for the night."
Sleep in a barn. Oh joy. Well, barn or not, they'd be dry and would have more room to spread out. With a sigh she allowed Michael to lead her inside while Ian made some other arrangements.
At the moment, she could care less what they were she was so tired. Her knee hit a hay bale and she happily sank to the scratchy seat. Rubbing her lower back, she stretched and did her best to work out the kinks. What she wouldn't give for a hot bath and some clean clothes, and ... food. Her nose twitched with the scent of something not the result of the many animals sharing her temporary hotel, and it smelled delicious.
"Innes, here, has some victuals for ye,” the farmer said.
Through tired uncooperative eyes, Jenny spied a woman with a tray. With a sickening giggle, the girl handed Michael and Ian bowls of some sort. When it was Jenny's turn, she got a quick shove of whatever it was into her hands. The girl didn't stand there long enough to even see if Jenny had a good hold on it before rushing back to Ian's side.
Jenny chewed the inside of her cheek as she watched the girl hang all over him. She supposed the girl gave Michael a good deal of attention too, but Ian was her primary target. They were one big blurry blob. What bugged Jenny most was she couldn't tell if the girl was pretty or not. Only that she seemed to be tall, a bit on the buxom side, and long limbed.
Without tasting the fare, Jenny shoved spoonful after spoonful into her mouth. She didn't want to know what she was eating, and she didn't really care if it tasted good, her mind was otherwise occupied, as was her fuzzy vision. At least she resisted the urge to squint. It wouldn't help anyway, Ian and the girl were several feet away. No amount of squinting would bring any clarity to the picture before her, but she was well equipped with an imagination and knew that Ian was smiling and winking at the girl. All that nauseating giggling was proof enough.
Finally done with her meal, Jenny rose, crossed to the pair and shoved her empty bowl into the girl's hands. “Thanks."
With that she returned to her bale of hay, propped her back against the wall, and wrapped the tartan Tuck had given her tightly around her, shutting them and everything else out. If Ian wanted to make an ass of himself, fine. It was none of her business how he handled his love life. But for some dreadful reason it hurt.
Ian watched as Jenny nodded off to sleep mere moments after she'd sat down. How she managed it was a mystery.
Once again, he tried his best to disentangle Innes from his arm. “Thank you, my dear. That was a fine stew.” The last thing he wanted or needed was a scorned woman chasing after him. And truth to tell, as pretty as the girl was, he wasn't the least bit interested. Not this time.
"Is there no’ else ye need?” she asked, her eyes filled with promises.
He cleared his throat. “Nay, but I, and my companions, greatly appreciate your hospitality. As always."
"Doona ye want tae go outside. Behind the barn? I have something verra interestin’ tae show ye,” she whispered.
He caught sight of Michael's broad grin before he turned his head. The lad would pay in the lists when they returned to Arreyder.
"My thanks, Innes, but I cannot—I cannot break my vows,” Ian quickly lied.
"Och, ye canna mean it! Doona say ye married that one,” she said in harsh whisper. “I ne'er thought ye'd e'er settle fer one woman."
That stung, as it was far too close to the very thing he did not wish to be—his father. But he only kept company with one woman at a time, and only a certain type of woman, at that. The kind sitting beside him. Not the sort he truly wanted.
His gaze strayed to the sprite seated across from him sound asleep. “Aye, I am quite leg shackled,” he said softly, hoping not to disturb Jenny. And it wouldn't do for her to jump up and declare him a liar.
Michael, although still grinning, nodded in agreement. “Aye, well and done."
"Och, ye poor thing,” Innes said with a tsk and patted his knee. “A braugh mon like yerself shouldna’ be burdened with a puny thing such as her. ‘Tis a pitiful waste.” She sighed and rose, still tsking and shaking her head as she left.
Ian turned to Michael who sat ready to burst with laughter. “'Tis not humorous."
"Nay, of course no'” the lad said, failing to hide his mirth.
Ignoring him, Ian shot to his feet and made a pallet nearby, then gently lifted Jenny and placed her on the makeshift bed. She made not a sound as he covered her with a blanket. How could anyone call her puny? She was slight of frame but well proportioned and strong of spirit. And a lovelier creature he'd be hard pressed to find.
A warmth at her back made Jenny want to snuggle in deeper, but the strong scent of hay filled her nostrils and reminded her of where she was. The question, however, was who or what was at her back.
An arm fell over her waist as a warm breath teased her neck. Okay, a man was at her back, and she knew full well it was Ian. She was grateful that it wasn't some barn animal, of course, but why did the man have to torture her this way? In all likelihood, he was completely unaware of her overwhelming attraction to him. The logical conclusion was that he'd grown cold and she was handy. He wasn't about to wrap his arms around Michael for warmth. But why not snuggle with his girlfriend?
Deciding that none of it mattered, not at the moment, she rose from her bed, one she didn't recall getting into, and left him to his dreaming. She didn't want to think of all the things he might have done or still wanted to do with Innes. Sensing a previous relationship between them had been as far as she let her mind wander. Further than that, her imagination would create some very vivid pictures in her head, although the main players would still be fuzzy since she'd not actually seen either of them.
"And I don't care to,” she grumbled, knowing it for the lie that it was. She wanted to see Ian in the worst way. Aching to know if he was as handsome as Tuck described, as she imagined him to be with nothing but her blurry vision as a guide.
How many times had she looked at him and drawn in the details of his face with her mind's eye? Like a child's coloring book, she'd taken his outline and filled in everything. A smile that would make his eyes twinkle, lips just full enough to bring all sorts of decadent ideas to her head, and oh so much more. What if they did find her a pair of glasses and he wasn't as wonderful as she dreamed?