Ravished By A Highlander Part 8

"But they do concern me," she countered, trying to muster the control she now knew ran through her veins.

She had misjudged this quiet, una.s.suming lad. First by thinking him any less striking than a dark stallion on the verge of charging. Second, by forgetting that he was there, speaking little and observing more. "They concern us all, do they not?" She forced a smile, aware that she had to be more vigilant with this one.

"Nae, no' all. Most la.s.ses I know concern themselves with cooking and sewing. Most la.s.ses I know"-he looked her over with suspicion searing his green eyes to gold-"save fer my sister-and ye."

"Rob told me of Mairi. She-"

"I know why politics concern her." Colin stopped her before she could sway the conversation. "But why ye?"

She s.h.i.+fted her gaze to Finn and found that he too was waiting for her answer. "What else would you have me care about?" she asked them both quietly and looked down at her lap. "I've lived each day knowing that the people I loved would most likely die because of me. Nothing I ever had was tangible. Everything could change in one horrifying instant. And it did." She looked up at them and now it was Colin's turn to look away. "I read, Colin. I immersed myself in my lessons because what I learned belonged to me and my enemies could not touch it. And I learned about the king because I did not have a father."

Oh, d.a.m.nation, why was she going to cry now? She narrowed her eyes on Colin, angry with him for making her think on her past. "One more thing," she said before she ended this talk. "I can cook and sew as well as any woman."

Leaving them both staring at her, she flipped around in Rob's direction, shoved her hands under her head, and closed her eyes.

Rob watched her beneath the moonlight. She was so close that his fingers ached to reach out and wipe away the tears escaping from under her lids. He'd heard everything Colin had asked her, and her reply. The emptiness in her life pained him to the marrow. He was fortunate to have had so much growing up, so many who loved him and who he loved in return, without fear of losing them. Gazing at her while her sweet lips moved in prayer and then as she drifted to sleep, Rob wasn't certain which of the two was a greater loss in her life: the absence of her family, or of any sense of permanence.

"I'll remedy it all, Davina," he whispered, finally lifting his fingers to the curve of her cheek. "Fer G.o.d has a.s.signed me to it."

Chapter Thirteen.

Rob woke with a start, instinctively reaching for Da-vina. She wasn't there. He bolted to his feet. His dream of a faceless Admiral s.n.a.t.c.hing her from his arms was still fresh in his mind. He looked around the campsite for Asher, expecting Davina was with him. He wished it didn't, but it boiled his blood to know that the captain had spent the last four years with her-knowing her secrets, knowing what made her laugh, what frightened her. How many times had he comforted her, held her in his arms, mayhap kissed her?

Thankfully, she wasn't with the captain now, but Asher's eyes were fixed on something to his right, just beyond the trees. Rob followed his gaze and soon found Davina standing with Will, his cousin's bow and arrow poised in front of her face.

Rob watched as she widened her stance beneath her skirts. Skirts? b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! He glared at every man around him, wondering where and when she had discarded her robes for the s.h.i.+ft and kirtle the Abbess had given him-and if any of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds had dared look at her while she did. None of them looked guilty, but they all had their eyes on her. He couldn't find fault with that, not when she looked so d.a.m.ned bonnie in her new, close-fitting, womanly attire. Leaning his shoulder against a tree, he crossed his arms over his chest and joined the others watching her.

Her fingers were thin and graceful, winding around the shaft of Will's arrow. Her shoulders, straight and relaxed as she pulled back on the bowstring. She closed one eye, aimed, and then fired.

Rob wasn't surprised when the arrow struck Will's makes.h.i.+ft target fifty paces away dead on. His shoulder bore testimony to her skill. The others cheered, and Will, rogue b.a.s.t.a.r.d that he was, whispered something in her ear that made her laughter spread across the glade.

Rob was considering the best way to skin his cousin alive when Davina turned, as if sensing him there, his hooded, burning eyes on her, and aimed her smile at him. Suddenly, nothing existed in the world but her.

"You sleep late," she greeted him, curling her weapon under her arm and moving toward him.

Rob had to call upon every last shred of strength he possessed not to push off the tree and drag her into his arms. "I was awake most of the night."

Her smile vanished as she reached him and tilted her face to his, wreaking havoc on his senses. "Not your shoulder, I hope."

He shook his head but said nothing else while his gaze drifted over her features, settling on the full pout of her lips. He'd frightened her the first time he kissed her, and paid the price for it. But he longed to taste her again, not like some possessive, hot-tempered beast, but as a lover, tender and pa.s.sionate.

When his gaze returned to hers, he found her searching his eyes as if she caught a glimpse of something kinder, softer, and wanted it as badly as he.

"Well done, my lady." Asher appeared at Davina's side, shattering what had just pa.s.sed between them. "You are as deadly as you are beautiful." The reverence in his smile faded when he turned it on Rob. "Do you not agree, MacGregor?"

Aye, Rob agreed, but he wasn't about to drop flowery compliments at her feet every time she was in his presence the way Asher did. The man was a captain in the mightiest army in the world. Where was his pride, for h.e.l.l's sake?

Instead of answering the question-which he'd already surmised was not asked out of friendly curiosity-Rob unfolded his arms and pushed off the tree. "We need to go."

Davina's hand on his wrist stopped him. "Oh, but don't you want to give it a try?"

"What?" Rob asked, taken aback for a moment that she would so boldly seek a compliment from him.

"The bow." She held hers up to him. "I'd like to see if you are as good with it as you are with a blade." Her smile widened into a grin. "It will be fun."

Rob shook his head, thinking of a thousand different things he'd rather do with her for fun. "We have nae time fer pleasure. We have to keep movin'." He looked over her shoulder rather than at the disappointment on her face. "Will, get rid of that target and let's get this place cleaned up."

He didn't look back at Davina again as he strode away. 'Twas best not to, else he might end up like her captain, languis.h.i.+ng after something that was forbidden. h.e.l.l, he'd had a hard enough time remembering that she was a novice of the Order when she was draped in His robes. Her soft curves, so delicately defined now in her kirtle... He stopped and turned back to where she was still standing with the captain.

"Where did ye change yer garment?"

She pointed to a thick stand of trees in the distance then looked down at herself. "It's a bit snug. It must have belonged to one of the younger novices."

He knew he was scowling but he couldn't help himself, just as he couldn't stop himself from thinking no la.s.s in all the world ever looked so fine in something so plain.

"It looks... ye look bonnie in it." He tightened his jaw to keep himself from smiling at her like some besotted, dimwitted fool. But he knew 'twas already too late.

The next few days were h.e.l.l for Rob. More difficult than any raid or training time with his father had ever been. He ate little and slept less, battling with himself night and day against feelings that threatened to control him. He was happy that Davina had put aside her grief and was enjoying herself on their journey. Though she sometimes fell into a silence so deep he thought he could almost hear her thoughts, 'twas her laughter that filled the air, and his heart, while she practiced archery each morning with Will or tried to learn how to ride a horse on her own under Colin's careful instruction. But despite his best efforts to prove to Davina that he too was good-natured, Rob found himself snapping at the others for minor offenses. The fact that he was trying to prove anything to her at all goaded his temper, but riding with her was the true cause of his foul mood. It wasn't the feel of her pressed to his chest and clutched in his arms that did it, although he was certain that having her so near, as if she were his, helped to fan the flames.

It was Asher. The captain rode at their side constantly, usurping Finn's place. At first, he pretended interest in the MacGregors, but soon his true purpose for rubbing stirrups with Rob became clear. He talked to Davina ceaselessly, preventing her from speaking overmuch to Rob, or him to her. At first, Rob told himself he didn't mind. Davina and her captain were friends. They shared a past together. It meant nothing. He certainly wasn't going to let some childish emotion cloud his reasoning. But Asher did nothing to hide the fact that he was in love with her. Da-vina knew it and cast all her smiles Asher's way. She even laughed when he reminded her of a day two summers ago, when he had tried to shear one of St. Christopher's sheep and the woolly beast bit him on the a.r.s.e.

Rob wanted to punch him in the mouth. What kind of man couldn't shear a d.a.m.ned sheep? It wasn't any better when they stopped to eat or sleep. In fact, 'twas worse. Every step she took found Asher right behind her. Twice Rob had to block his path when she left to relieve herself. That had almost cost Rob his temper, but his resolve held firm... and he was d.a.m.ned proud of it.

When Asher didn't have her ear, Finn usually did, and if the lad wasn't so young, Rob would have worried most about the effect that particular male had on Davina. Twice Rob was sure he'd seen her wipe tears from her eyes while she stared at the lad, thinking she went un.o.bserved.

Not so. Rob's eyes were ever on her, taking in every gesture, every smile, every flawless curve that shaped her. He knew how she breathed because he lay awake at night watching her sleep, aching to hold her, kiss her, make her his own. She was crafted of stardust and secrets and he was lost. He knew it, and he didn't like it.

Unfortunately, his brother Colin knew it, too, and did his best to rea.s.sure him not to fret about it, they all were a wee bit lost to her-a truth that only made Rob more irritable. Still, he hadn't cracked any heads yet. He worked harder than he ever had in his life at harnessing his emotions. When he didn't, bad things usually happened; like breaking Donald MacPherson's arm after he shot Tristan with his arrow, or when he left Davina at Courlochcraig and then had to kill six men to get her out.

There was one bright light in his gloom, though. He was pleased to discover that Davina had indeed taken notice of his balanced temperament when they stopped for the night outside of Dumbarton.

He was sharing a word with Will after they made camp when she came up behind him. "You've been very patient with Edward."

Rob wasn't entirely happy to hear her bring up the captain-since it was the first time in days her guardian wasn't stationed at her side-but he refused to behave like a sulking boy. "Why should I no' be patient with him?"

She shrugged her shoulders and offered her usual smile to Finn when he sat across the fire. She hadn't smiled at Rob in days. "I just thought that his not including you in our talks might have angered you."

"Why should it?" Rob asked her, sparing her a brief, uninterested glance before he turned back to Will. He wasn't completely certain that if he continued looking at her above the firelight he wouldn't crack and confess to already having thought of a solution to Captain Asher.

"You might," she said with a marked sting in her voice, "because it can seem a bit rude and you have been snarling about like a bear with a thorn in his paw."

Rob turned to her, a smile of detached amus.e.m.e.nt narrowing his eyes. "Ye just told me how patient I've been."

"I was being pleasant"-she smiled back at him to prove it-"with the hopes that it might rub off on you."

h.e.l.l, the last thing he wanted to do was grin at her like some heart-struck lackwit, but he enjoyed her flashes of temper, even at the cost of Will chuckling at him. She had strength in her she wasn't even aware of, pa.s.sion he wanted to feed.

"I simply wanted you to know," she said, trying to look as uninterested as he, "that Edward means no offense. He has been at my side for a long time and it's difficult for him to just hand over my well-being to you-especially when you hold me as if..."

"As if what?" he prodded when she grew silent.

"As if I belonged to you." She didn't look anywhere near as angry as she tried to sound. "I don't, in case you had forgotten."

He hadn't, and that was part of the trouble. He wanted her-G.o.d forgive him, and he was growing tired of fighting it.

With an oath on her lips she was sure would cost her a month of confession, Davina returned to the fire and took a seat across from Finn. She tried to keep her eyes on the hare roasting over the spit, but they kept flicking back to Rob. Saints, but the man was as rigid as an arrow. She knew how close Edward had come on several different occasions to getting swiped by the snarling bear. She'd felt the tightness of Rob's muscles behind her whenever Edward commanded all her attention. Why was he trying to convince her that he was unfazed by it? On the other hand, what if she was wrong? What if he truly didn't care one whit if Edward tossed her over his arm and kissed her senseless-the way Rob had at Courlochcraig? And, dear G.o.d, why couldn't she get that out of her mind? Every blasted time she looked at his mouth, she wanted him to kiss her again. He didn't. What if he didn't like her and was just following some sense of duty? It would explain why he scowled at her whenever she caught his eye. She really shouldn't have been cheeky with him. Whether he admitted it or not, he didn't like Edward. If he didn't like her either, there would be nothing to stop him from leaving both of them where they sat while he returned home. "Please G.o.d, don't let him do it."

"Don't let who do what?" Edward appeared over her, holding a handful of red berries and wearing a tender smile that should have been soothing. It wasn't. How could she tell him how just being near Rob made her feel safe and cared for without wounding Edward to his heart?

Rather than lie to him, she took the berries he offered and patted the ground beside her, inviting him to sit. When he did, she moved a bit closer so that the others could not hear her. "I would like you to try and get along better with Rob. He isn't trying to take your place."

Unlike Rob, who was as difficult to read as the Latin scrolls burnt to ashes, along with everything else at St. Christopher's, Edward's emotions played openly across his face.

"Can he take my place?"

"Of course he can't, but he isn't trying to, Edward." She took his hand, trying to convince him. "I don't think he even likes me." He certainly didn't look at her the way Edward did, with his whole heart exposed at her feet.

"He has gone out of his way for someone he doesn't like. Wouldn't you say?" Edward chuckled mirthlessly.

"Not really," Davina told him with a soft sigh that she didn't know she expelled. "He's a n.o.ble man with a deep sense of duty to those around him. That's all. Will told me that Rob is firstborn and will someday lead his clan. The task of protecting them will fall on his shoulders. He is merely doing what he has been taught to do-the same as I."

"You sound disappointed that it is not more than that," Edward said softly, looking away from her gaze.

"Edward, please don't be a fool." She hushed her voice when Colin and Finn glanced at her over the sizzling hare. "You know that my life is not my own."

"Yes, I know it," Edward whispered and glanced across the flames at Rob. "But does he?"

"He doesn't know who I am, Edward," she said following her friend's gaze. "For whatever reason, I don't think he cares." She smiled, dipping her gaze to the flames. "It is odd, but it makes me feel as if I don't care either." And oh, how could she ever explain to Edward how wonderful it felt not to care? "I should tell him," she said, looking up into her dearest friend's eyes again. "He deserves to be told. I want to tell Finn that he is my cousin."

"You cannot tell them the truth," Edward warned her, s.h.i.+fting his gaze to Rob once again when the Highlander began to walk toward them. "Do you think he will still bring you to Skye knowing he might bring the entire realm down on his family's name once again?"

There it was, her fear spoken aloud. She shook her head.

"He is right. Skye is most likely the only place safe for you, my lady," Edward said quickly. "Remember who you are."

Davina stared at him until the sting behind her eyes began to ache. Then she dipped her gaze to her lap. She didn't want to remember. For once, she just wanted to be Davina, and not James of York's true firstborn daughter and heir to the throne of the three kingdoms.

Chapter Fourteen.

John Henry Frasier grinned when his wife bent to kiss his cheek, and then continued counting the coins stacked in his palm. "Thirty-three..." His thick, gray brows drew together in a moment of forgetfulness. "Or was that thirty-four?"

"Twenty-nine," his wife called over her shoulder, untying her ap.r.o.n behind her back as she left him.

"Twenty-nine?" He shook his head and drew out a long sigh. "'Twas another slow day in the tavern."

"I know, but soon the festivities in England will be over and our patrons will return."

He glanced up from his small bundle and smiled at his wife's generous rump swaying beneath her skirts while she climbed the stairs to their rooms above the small tavern. What would he do without his Millie, always reminding him of brighter things?

"Come to bed now, John. 'Tis late."

"In a moment, my love. Let me wallow in my poverty."

She laughed from the second landing, setting his poor memory to ruin once again. "You never wallow, John. Don't forget to lock up," she added, disappearing around a corner.

"Aye. Now where was I?" He plucked a coin up in his beefy fingers and gave it a thoughtful look. "Thirty-four, thirty..." He stopped counting when a gust of cool night air swept his silver hair over his forehead.

"My apologies," he said, turning in his chair toward the door. "We are closed."

The figure framing the doorway sent an even icier chill down his spine. The patron made no motion to suggest he heard John's words, but slowly stepped aside to allow four men behind him to enter.

John stood up and shoved his coins into the pocket of his ap.r.o.n. "I've only a few coin if you mean to rob me."

A low chuckle came from the doorway as the figure stepped into the soft light of the tavern. John narrowed his eyes, getting a better look at the man. He wore breeches and a coat that hung well past his knees. A wide-brimmed hat shadowed half his face, but his eyes flickered a pale gray in the firelight.

"Do I look like a thief, old man?" The voice rumbled from someplace deep within his wide chest. "My comrades and I have been on the road for many days and we could use some strong ale to heat our blood."

John eyed the other four cautiously, hoping the man spoke true, for they were all too big to fight off, even with the heavy stick he kept propped in the corner.

The jingle of coins coming from the doorway drew his attention. The man held up a small pouch and shook it again before he tossed it to John. "Five cups of your best ale. Or better yet, make it whisky. I've always wanted to taste what is claimed to be the finest brew in the three kingdoms." He sauntered into the tavern, his coattails swaying around his boots. When he reached John, his lips curled into a thin smile. "That is, unless you refuse to take my gold?"

"Gold?" John's eyes widened, as did his grin. "Why, I wouldn't dream of sending thirsty men away. Have a seat. Have a seat." He gestured to all of them, even pulling out a chair himself. "I have just the thing for good gentlemen such as yourselves, brewed it myself." He swept his fingers through his thinning hair and smoothed the wrinkles from his ap.r.o.n. "Make yourselves at home while I fetch your drinks."

What good fortune! Oh, wait until Millie heard of this. He kissed the pouch and shoved it into his pocket with the rest of his coins. Gold! He stopped suddenly on his way to the cellar, plucked the pouch back out, untied it and looked inside, then closed his eyes and kissed the thin leather again.

He returned to his generous patrons a short time later and set down a tray carrying five cups and a dark brown bottle of his very best whisky on the table before them. "Prepare to have your palates enchanted, gentlemen," he said, pouring their drinks.

He watched, smiling from one ear to the other while the man who paid him removed his hat and raised his cup to his friends.

"To the Prince."

"You mean the King, aye?" John asked, still grinning.