Read The Master Of Strathburn Online

Authors: Amy Rose Bennett

The Master Of Strathburn (17 page)

BOOK: The Master Of Strathburn
13.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Robert held her gaze. ‘What you are wearing is nowhere near adequate for this kind of weather. I can feel how cold you are already and it’s only going to get colder in here.’

A small frown of suspicion creased her brow. ‘Yes …’

He took another deep breath.
In for a penny, in for a pound, Robert.
‘We should lie together and share our body heat beneath the blanket and our plaids.’

As he spoke, her eyes had grown wide. She shook her head vehemently and wrenched her hand away. ‘You and I … I don’t think that would be appropriate. At all.’

‘Jessie, I swear this is not some ploy to seduce you. If we don’t do this, we may very well freeze to death. You must believe me.’

She bit her lip and stared hard into his eyes, searching. She must have been satisfied with what she saw as then she moved over to give him room beside her on the heather and bracken bed. ‘All right, Robert Grant. But if I catch yer hands wandering where they should no’, I’ll use yer own dirk on you. Do you understand?’

Robert held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Understood. I shall be nothing but the perfect gentleman.’ He eased himself down next to her and then tucked his plaid, and the blanket around them. Jessie lay stiffly beside him, barely touching him. She was still trembling and her teeth had started to chatter.

This wouldn’t do. Slowly, carefully, he gathered her into his arms, the front of her body pressing against his side. He heard her sudden intake of breath but she didn’t try to pull away.

‘It’s better this way,’ he whispered softy into her ear. Her hair smelled faintly of heather and wood-smoke. ‘You’ll tell me if I’m hurting your arm, won’t you?’

She nodded, her hair tickling his cheek. ‘I’m all r-right,’ she whispered. Her breath was warm against the hollow of his neck. He fought the familiar urge to kiss her but he vowed to himself that he would not do anything to break her trust. He prayed she wouldn’t notice that he’d already started to get an erection.

‘Goodnight Jessie,’ he murmured and slowly, he felt the tension ebb from her body. She relaxed into his embrace and her shivering eased as she quietly drifted into slumber. The palm of her left hand drifted upwards to rest against his heart and with a faint smile on his lips, he closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.

Chapter Seven

When Jessie awoke the next morning, it was with the startling realisation that her limbs were entwined with Robert’s—and that she was warm, even comfortable. In fact, she was too comfortable. Curled into Robert’s furnace-like heat, her head rested against his shoulder whilst one of his thighs lay over her hip. Even more shockingly, one of Robert’s hands gently cupped her breast. She should be affronted and swat his hand away. Untangle herself from his legs and use his dirk on him like she’d threatened to last night. But she knew she didn’t want to—and that thought disturbed her, more than just a little. Robert had been joking yesterday, but perhaps she was a wicked wench.

She moved slightly and Robert stirred. His hand moved away from her breast to brush her hair away from her cheek. ‘This seems to have become a bit of a habit, us spending the night together. How did you sleep?’ His voice was low and husky, a caress against her ear.

Jessie found her voice, also husky with sleep and another emotion she didn’t care to name. ‘Better than I expected … an’ you?’

‘I slept well,’ he murmured, sliding his hand from her head to her shoulder, then down to the curve of her waist. ‘Better than well.’

Oh my
. Jessie pushed away from him, attempting to create space between them, to break the intimacy. It was a mistake. His blue eyes were soft and dark in the dim light of dawn, his smile languid. No one had a right to look so handsome first thing in the morning. She swallowed, dragging her gaze away from his mouth. His wide beautiful, inviting mouth. She was definitely wicked. And this was dangerous. Very dangerous. She needed to get up. Start the day.

Get to Edinburgh.

Robert’s thoughts must have drifted the same way. He sighed then dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. ‘As much as I would enjoy lying here all day like this, I think we really should get up. Besides, Tobias may be back at any time and—’

‘Good mornin’, milord. Miss Munroe.’

Tobias.
Jessie shrieked and scrambled awkwardly from the bed, ignoring the pull of her stitches and the soreness of her stiff ankle. Her face blazed as she adjusted her plaid and wrapped her cloak tightly about her. Tobias hovered awkwardly at the entrance of the cave.

‘Ah, good morning to you, Tobias.’ Robert followed Jessie out from underneath the bedclothes and stretched lazily, seemingly unperturbed by being caught abed with her. ‘I trust your fact finding trip was worthwhile.’

‘Aye, milord.’ Tobias, his face also beet red, looked only at his master. ‘I do indeed have news that will interest you.’

Robert glanced her way, his expression now serious. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Jessie.’ He inclined his head toward the entrance of the cave. ‘Lad, how about you and I go and check on my horse.’

Her heart sinking, Jessie watched the men disappear into the early morning fog drifting in the frigid mountain air. Despite the deal she’d struck with Robert last night, he still didn’t trust her. She suspected some of Tobias’s intelligence must be about her; at least there would be independent corroboration of her claim she was the factor’s daughter and that she had been summoned by her cousin—even though that, in and of itself was a lie. But she prayed the information would improve Robert’s opinion of her, even just a little. Which meant he might still uphold his end of the bargain.

God willing, in a few hours, she would be on the public coach to Edinburgh.

She had to be.

* * *

The fog remained impenetrable as Jessie, Robert and Tobias descended with painstaking slowness from the snow-shrouded upland glen to the lower wooded braes and Loch Kilburn. Jessie rode with Robert, his arm encircling her. She wasn’t sure if it was for support or restraint.

After the men had returned to the cave, Robert had been subdued and distant. Every now and again Jessie had caught him looking at her speculatively, making her worry anew about what he had learned about her, and whether or not he would let her go. In the rush to get ready and leave, there hadn’t been an opportunity to talk with him about his proposed strategy for gaining safe entrance into the castle, or what her role would be. As they drew closer to Lochrose, she was more than a little frustrated with Robert for not sharing what he had planned. But railing at him wasn’t an option, not when stealth and subterfuge were paramount.

Thankfully they encountered no one along the way. The world around them was still, silent and grey; trees loomed out of the fog like ghostly spectres. Robert had insisted she leave her scarlet cloak behind as it would be too noticeable against the snow-dusted landscape. Even though Robert shared his plaid with her now, Jessie shivered with cold—and bone deep dread.

She was acutely aware that every step of Robert’s horse brought her closer to Simon. Anxiety tied knots in her belly and frayed her nerves to the point that she felt nauseous. It probably didn’t help that all she had in her stomach was dried beef again, but even if a feast was waiting for her at Lochrose, she doubted she could have eaten a thing.

At last she began to identify familiar landmarks as they materialised out of the fog. They were skirting the loch, heading for the direction of Lochrose’s main gate and the Gate-House. She clutched the pommel in front of her and began to gnaw at her bottom lip. The going had been so frustratingly slow, she was now terrified that time was slipping away from her. She estimated that she only had a few hours at most to get to Grantown-on-Spey. She really couldn’t stand not knowing the plan any longer.

She turned her head toward Robert. ‘Where are we headed?’ she asked quietly, hating that she couldn’t hide the breathy edge to her voice. ‘I canna imagine that you are going to ride straight up the drive.’

Robert waited a heart-beat before responding softly against her ear. ‘Your house, Jessie.’

‘Oh.’ Her brow plunged into a deep frown. He’d truly surprised her. ‘But why? Are you going to share yer plan so I can help? Dinna you remember our bargain?’

‘Of course I do. But all will be revealed in good time.’

Jessie hoped so. She really hoped so. There wasn’t much time left.

When they got to within fifty yards of the Gate-House, Robert and Tobias reined in and tethered the horses within a dense copse of larch and fir trees at the dwelling’s rear. Robert helped her to dismount and she found herself pressed up against the hard planes of his body, his hands holding her firmly around the waist. Despite her trepidation, she felt her body respond to his nearness—her breath hitched and although she was chilled to the bone, warmth suffused her cheeks. Her physical attraction to Robert must be mortifyingly obvious. And despite the wide gulf of misunderstanding and mistrust that stretched between them, she also sensed that Robert wanted her too.

She chanced a glance at his face and Robert smiled. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to home, Jessie,’ he said softly as his eyes searched hers. ‘I’m trusting you not to give me away.’

Jessie’s heart leapt in the oddest way. She offered a small smile in return, hoping Robert could see she was truly sincere. His good opinion of her mattered, more than she had hitherto realised. ‘I willna let you down. And in case you have forgotten, we can enter the Gate-House from the back. I left the rear door unlocked.’

Robert glanced at Tobias who stood nearby, seemingly busy with his mount’s harness. A silent communication passed between them. Tobias nodded and then Robert tuned back to Jessie. He took her hand. ‘Lead the way then,
mo ghaoil
.’

The house was deserted but it was obvious that someone had been there at some stage since Jessie had left. Someone who’d been very, very angry. The hair at Jessie’s nape stood on end when she saw that one of the kitchen chairs had been upended and her father’s whisky bottle had been smashed on the stone floor. Even more disturbing was the state of her bedchamber upstairs. There looked to have been a rough search through her small number of belongings. Her chest of drawers had been opened and items of her clothing had been tossed about the room.

Robert, standing beside her in the doorway, quirked an eyebrow. ‘Simon?’

Jessie nodded, clutching the door jamb, willing herself to swallow the surge of nausea rising to her throat.

‘He must be frustrated indeed that you left him, Jessie.’ Robert paused for a moment, frowning as he considered her face. Concern shadowed his eyes. ‘I imagine you would like to change. Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes?’

She found her voice although she couldn’t hide its tremble. ‘Aye, of course. I will be fine. I willna be long. I promise.’

Robert gave her a reassuring smile, and squeezed her hand. ‘Good lass. Call me if you need anything.’ She nodded then he disappeared down the stairs.

Although her nerves were completely tattered, and she had precious little time to waste—the clock on her mantel indicated it was almost nine—Jessie did not wish to squander this opportunity to wash and change into fresh clothes before she left. It mattered not that the water she’d left in the pitcher several days ago was icy cold as she splashed it over her face. With as much haste as she could, she then shed her hodgepodge of filthy garments before grabbing fresh undergarments from the clothing strewn about on the floor. She shuddered to think of Simon touching her most private items of clothing. But she had no choice than to use what was at hand.

From her wardrobe, she hastily selected a black wool cloak and her best travelling gown of emerald green worsted wool that had a small amount of ivory lace at each cuff and a matching fichu. It laced up the front with a black velvet ribbon over an ivory lace stomacher so it was relatively easy to don. Although her ankle was still stiff and sore, she managed to pull on soft, black leather ankle boots without too much difficulty as well.

She glanced at the clock. Five past nine.

Her hair … well, her hair was a disaster. Jessie sat before her dressing table mirror and dragged a brush through the tangled mess before pulling the curls into a low arrangement of sorts with a leather tie and black ribbon. There were dark shadows under her eyes, but at least she no longer looked like some wild harridan. She was presentable enough to catch a public coach.

If she made it in time. As long as she left by eleven, and rode like the wind, she should be able to get to Grantown-on-Spey by midday. All going well.

And if Robert keeps his promise.

And if I do no’ meet Simon.

Tears pricked and Jessie scowled at her reflection.
Stop it, Jessie. You dinna have time to cry …

* * *

Robert was standing by one of the mullioned windows in the small front parlour, scanning the drive when Jessie joined him.

In the weak light that filtered through the window, she noticed that Robert had also taken the opportunity to improve his appearance for his upcoming reunion with his father. Although he hadn’t shaved away the dark shadow of his morning stubble, he’d clubbed his hair back with a black velvet ribbon. He’d discarded his rumpled, travel-stained plaid and now wore buckskin breeches tucked into half boots, a fresh white linen shirt with an elegantly tied cravat, and his brown hunting coat; even though Robert’s attire was simple, one couldn’t fail to notice his innate air of authority. Robert Grant, the gentleman Jacobite; a worthy bearer of the titles Master of Strathburn and Viscount Lochrose. Jessie prayed the earl would see that too.

She drew closer to the window. ‘’Tis fortunate the fog is lingering. Is there any sign of movement outside?’

Robert frowned, his mouth a hard line. ‘Four Black Watchmen rode by, headed for the castle but two minutes ago.’ His gaze met Jessie’s. ‘Simon is persistent, I’ll give him that.’

Jessie clutched her black travelling cloak closer and her skin prickled with unease again. She’d considered stealing out the back to take one of the horses under the cover of the fog, but she was beginning to question whether it was all that wise to go anywhere unaccompanied, given that Simon was still actively searching for her. In fact, she was starting to wonder whether she might be better off staying with Robert. Despite the mistrust between them, despite her initial doubts about him, she couldn’t deny that he, above all others, made her feel safe.

BOOK: The Master Of Strathburn
13.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Demon's Plaything by Lydia Rowan
Paige and Chloe by Aimee-Louise Foster
The Vampire's Angel by Damian Serbu
Open Seating by Mickie B. Ashling
Hex Appeal by Linda Wisdom