Rogue's Challenge (11 page)

She'd be better off, she thought with a nod, and made her way outside.

Michael, already up and sitting outside the barn eating breakfast, told her where the privy was. She made her way across the barnyard and stumbled inside the boxlike structure. After dealing with the uncomfortable accommodations as best she could, she figured she was lucky she couldn't see well. The image of every nasty microbial she'd ever studied flashed through her thoughts.

Her task accomplished, she hurried out of the privy and started back across the yard as a figure burst from the barn in a bit of a panic.

Ian. She'd recognize that golden head anywhere, but what was he harassing Michael about? Did he usurp Ian's place with the farm girl last night? No, Michael wouldn't do that. He was too deeply in love with Fiona. Then what had her reluctant escort so upset?

Grabbing Michael by the shirt, Ian hauled the worthless lad to his feet. “Where the devil has she gone?” he demanded. “I told you she could ne'er be out of sight!"

The young fool swallowed his food and grinned stupidly. “I do love tae be right,” he said.

He shook the insolent youth. “Where is she, man?"

With a chuckle, he pointed across the barnyard to where Jenny was carefully making her way in their direction. While her eyes squinted toward the ground beneath her feet, she kept one hand on the fencing at the edge of the yard, and the other holding her skirts up entirely too high, gifting him with a view of her lily white legs, sleek and slender.

Ian forced down the surge of lust as he shoved Michael aside then dashed off toward her. The terror pounding in his heart and in his head when he awoke to find her gone would be a memory he would not easily forget. He tried valiantly to attribute it to nothing more than a fear that he'd failed in his duty to protect his charge, but something deep inside said otherwise.

"Are you all right?” he said, grasping her arms and startling her.

"What? Of course I'm all right,” she snapped, swatting at his hands.

"You are not to go anywhere alone,” he seethed.

She shot him a cool, hard glare. “I had to
go.
Michael could see me the whole time,” she said, squinting toward the barn. “I think,” she muttered.

"I am responsible for you, woman, and would greatly appreciate better care on your part. When I say you are not to be alone, I mean you are not to be alone!” Twice she'd terrified him and he did not care for the feeling in the least.

"I'm not about to have you or Michael hold my hand while I'm—I'm indisposed!"

"Someone should have been standing guard by the bloody door!"

She rolled her eyes heavenward with a huff and resumed her precarious trek through the mud.

Time being of some importance, Ian plucked her from the muck and strode off toward the barn.

"I really wish you'd quit doing that,” she growled. “I have two perfectly good legs."

"But not two perfectly good eyes."

She stiffened, and he regretted his words. She had two beautiful eyes, eyes he enjoyed looking into, although he shouldn't.

Michael came out of the barn with their horses saddled and ready to go. As Ian approached her mount, he tried to find a way to apologize, but for once in his life words failed him.

He placed her atop her horse but did not move away. There had to be something he could say to make amends. “I did not mean to offend you, little one,” he said lowly.

"It was the truth.” She turned to him, but her gaze refused to light on his face.

"In that they do not function well, aye. But that is all.” He rested his hand atop hers on the pommel. “I rather like your eyes."

She stopped a tremulous smile. “They're just plain brown eyes. Nothing special."

Ian smiled. Even this woman, learned, stubborn, and constantly at odds with him, needed to hear a compliment, as women often do. “They are not plain, but quite extraordinary. As is the woman they belong to,” he said truthfully.

She looked at him then, her smile a bit wider, then it quickly fell as her gaze lit on something over his shoulder. He turned, a moment of alarm that some criminal lurked there beat through his chest then settled to a normal rhythm as his eyes lit on Innes coming toward them. Ian smiled, although it was not a true one, and greeted the girl.

"I brought ye a few biscuits fer yer trip. ‘Twill keep ye from hunger ‘till ye next stop."

"I thank you,” he said with a small bow.

She winked and went back to the house, a more happy sight Ian was hard pressed to see. He felt a bit like a rabbit having escaped the snare. Silly really, when he'd dallied with her and other maids of her ilk before. But this time the slightest hint of spending time with the girl didn't feel right.

"I'd like to get going, if you don't mind,” Jenny said snippily.

Michael covered his chuckle with a cough.

Ian handed her the small bundle of biscuits then mounted his horse. They soon left the farm behind, but not Michael's grin.

Ian pulled his horse along side his. “Whatever you find so amusing, had best be well worth the cost, because once we return home, you and I shall have a go in the lists,” he said low and firm.

Michael chuckled. “You canna see what's before your eyes?"

He sighed, hating the fact that he couldn't let that remark go. “Pray, enlighten me."

The young man looked over his shoulder at Jenny where she sat nibbling at a biscuit. “The lass is jealous, you daft mon. ‘Tis plain as daylight."

"Ridiculous. She is not used to this form of travel and has grown irritable with the ride. And what could she possibly be jealous of?"

Michael shook his head with a chuckle. “She may no’ be able tae see Innes clearly, but a blind mon wouldna’ have missed the history betwixt you."

"Nay, ‘tis utter nonsense,” he muttered. Even if the woman was of a mind, she was a lady. One entrusted to his care, not to his bed.

"Innes has a point, though,” Michael said. “'Twill be difficult convincing others, those you know, that you married the lass."

"Innes did not appear too shocked,” he muttered, not believing a word out of his own mouth. She'd been very shocked. She may even have suspected it was a lie, her wink at their parting making him pause. “We will continue the farce. ‘Tis for her safety and reputation."

Michael eyed him. “If you were tae marry, ‘tis Mistress Maxwell the sort of lass you'd choose?"

Ian looked back at the lady riding silently behind them. If he had a choice of all the women he currently knew and had ever known would she be among them?

He looked forward at the road, his jaw growing tired with his incessant clenching. “She is lovely, strong, intelligent, and determined, but nay. She and I would not suit,” he admitted, hating the taste of truth on his tongue. Her stubborn nature, her need to live an orderly settled life, per Amelia's descriptions, was not for him, was not the sort of woman he could come to love. And, although he hated to admit it, he wasn't good enough for her.

Michael handed Ian the lead rein. “Then I suggest, Master Southernland that you leave the lass well alone, for she isna of the same mind.” He fell back beside Jenny and chatted about Fiona and some of the sights they'd see in Edinburgh and the type of gift he should search for.

The lad was right about him leaving her well alone, but did he truly mean that she had feelings for him? Ian couldn't believe such a thing. Her jealousy, if it was truly that, did not necessarily mean she cared for him.

Still it made him wonder.

[Back to Table of Contents]

The day dragged on and Ian and Jenny barely spoke a word to one another. She was furious with herself for letting him make her feel this way. If he just hadn't complimented her, then she would've been able to forget all about him.

Do you enjoy lying to yourself, Jen?

"Oh shut-up,” she mumbled.

"What's that, lass?” Michael asked.

"Nothing. I was just thinking out loud."

He chuckled and rode up beside Ian. She had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her, but wasn't sure what could possibly be so funny. They're trip had been anything but humorous. And it was all Ian Southernland's fault ... and that farm girl.

"Stop it,” she huffed softly.

"I'm thinkin’ we need tae stop for a wee rest,” Michael told Ian with a nod in her direction.

Ian looked back at her, and she could only assume, with a fierce frown. He sighed heavily and halted their little parade. It was just as well, her rear-end was numb and her stomach was grumbling.

Ian appeared beside her, his arms lifted to help her down.

"I can get down on my own, thank you,” she said, and prayed her horse wouldn't move while she attempted it.

"As you wish,” he said and stepped back.

With very little grace and no skill, Jenny grasped the pommel with both hands, lifted her leg over the saddle, and slowly lowered her foot to the ground before removing the other one from the stirrup. Only problem was there was no ground! And her skirts were riding higher and higher as she frantically wiggled her foot in search of it. Then her horse decided he'd had enough of her gymnastics and danced sideways.

Clutching the saddle as tightly as she could, she was about to let out a screech, when firm strong arms slid beneath her legs and around her back. She was once again in the single place she most wanted to be and should not be—in Ian Southernland's arms.

"Stubborn woman,” he muttered.

She shot him her hottest glare as a few choice words developed on her tongue.

"Brave, but stubborn,” he said, and strolled toward the trees with her still in his arms, her few choice words forgotten.

Another compliment. And yes, she thought with a sigh, she was stubborn. A streak she hadn't known she had until meeting this man. She surmised it was one of the reasons she was so well suited to research. The determination to not give up after a failed experiment, to forge on until all possibilities had been thoroughly tested. She'd just never realized how it might cause her to be less than congenial with people—with Ian. Perhaps it had more to do with her attraction to the man than her true nature.

"Sit here and rest while I retrieve our midday meal,” he said, placing her on a log. When she didn't answer, he paused before turning away. “Do you need to find some privacy?"

She shook her head, studying him with her imprecise vision. He nodded then strolled toward his horse, but she could feel his gaze on her. Watching her. For her safety, of course, but there was something else, something new, and she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know what it was.

"Oh, please. I'm making it into something else,” she said to herself. She knew full well that she was doing anything and everything she could to make herself into Cinderella. Wanting him to notice her, pay attention to her, because of her and not some unknown threat she was no longer convinced existed.

Whoever had been in the woods with her hadn't done anything, and she had no proof that he would have. Perhaps she'd startled him as much as he did her. She may never know. But he was the reason Ian was watching her so closely, taking such pains to make sure she was safe. And he'd promised that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. No, if there was any attraction on his part, it was all in her mind. It was enough to make anyone irritable.

Michael and Ian sat beside her and they ate their lunch.

"We will be in Edinburgh tomorrow,” Ian said.

"I thought it would be another two days, since you have to lead my horse."

He shook his head, the golden locks catching the few rays of sunlight piercing the cloudy sky. “Nay, our swift leave taking of the port made up for much of the time, as our taking the midday meal on horseback. ‘Twill be late in the day when we arrive at the inn, however."

"An inn, with a real bed,” Jenny said with a sigh that brought a few chuckles from her escorts.

They quickly finished their meal and returned to their horses. Ian lifted her up into the saddle, and she did all she could to put the feel of his arms from her mind. This was a necessity for him, not a pleasure.

"I really wish I could do this myself,” she mumbled.

"You are too small, I fear,” Ian said.

"If I had a shorter horse, I wouldn't be."

With a hearty laugh, he said, “Much smaller, little one, and you would be astride a pony."

The day waned and they finally found a small clearing off the road to bed down for the night. The sky was clear, and according to Michael filled with stars. Which meant it would be much colder than before. Jenny was grateful for being dry, but not too happy with the temperature drop. Especially since her libido kept explaining how warm she would be if she shared her blanket with Ian.

"Is something wrong, lass?” Michael asked.

"Uh, no. I'm fine. It's just going to be a cold night, is all."

"Aye, there will be a nip in the air, but what a beautiful sky.” He stretched out by the small fire Ian had made and said no more.

"Yeah, beautiful,” she sighed. It really stunk that she was freezing her butt off and didn't at least get to see the stars.

Ian said he didn't wish to draw too much attention with a large fire, but Jenny's chattering teeth must have changed his mind and he threw another log onto the red coals. She huddled as close as she dared to the dancing flames, the tartan wrapped around her.

So much had happened to her in the last few days. Her mind raced over them all, but inevitably ended where they shouldn't. On Ian Southernland. To want a man like him was the worst thing she could do to herself, but she feared she no longer had any control over her feelings. As if she ever did.

Exhaustion found her as it did every night since she'd arrived in this time, and she fell asleep huddled beside the meager flames while dangerous thoughts, silly wishes, and sensuous fantasies filled her dreams.

Ian watched her closely, noting the sparks dancing in her eyes as she stared into the flames before sleep took her. She was a brave, beautiful woman, and for the life of him he couldn't stop the crushing need to have her. Michael was right, he should leave her well alone, and would.