To Marry a Scottish Laird Page 8

  "Ye're jesting, are ye no'?" he asked with disbelief. "Woman, ye're wearing tight braies that do nothing but emphasize what a fine behind ye ha'e. As fer yer hair, while I can no' see it now, I've seen it down and ken it's there. And yer face grows better every day."

  "Aye, but--"

  "I like ye, Jo," he interrupted quietly. "I like talkin' to ye, and travelin' with ye. I like the way yer mind thinks, I like yer laugh, and I like ye as a person." He shrugged helplessly. "It makes me want to hear ye laugh more, and find out what yer thinkin', and it makes me want to strip yer clothes away one by one and sink me cock into yer warm wet body over and over and over again."

  Joan stared at him wide-eyed, unconsciously licking her lips as his words bounced around inside her head, forming images that made butterflies flutter low in her belly.

  "But I ken I should no'," he added solemnly, raising his hand to run one finger lightly over her lips in the trail left by her tongue. "And I shall try to behave meself fer the rest o' the journey, but I must insist ye ride with me. Ye saved me life lass, and I'll no' make ye risk yers by travelin' alone because ye're afraid o' me."

  "I'm not afraid of you," Joan admitted on a sigh as she turned her head away. "I'm afraid of myself. I don't seem to be able to resist you and know I should. It seemed better to avoid the temptation than to fail again at resisting it."

  "Well, I ha'e no' helped with that. But from here on out, I'll do me best to keep me hands to meself. Deal?" he asked.

  Joan glanced back to him, managed a smile and nodded.

  "Good," he said and then urged his horse off the trail.

  "Where are we going now?" she asked with surprise.

  "Back to our camp. When I realized ye'd left, I mounted up and hurried after ye without thinkin' to grab me bag or the pheasant."

  Eyes widening, Joan glanced around, wondering how she could have missed that he'd turned back the way they'd come when he'd taken her up before him. Obviously, she'd been distracted, Joan thought, not really that surprised. The man had a powerful effect on her . . . and she knew she was foolish to give in and not continue on her own, but she just couldn't seem to say no, slip off his mount and walk away.

  Joan rationalized it away by telling herself that it wouldn't happen again, that now that they'd talked, they would resist the attraction they had for each other. But she knew that was a lie even as she thought it. If Cam kissed her, she would kiss back, and there was no doubt in her mind where it would go from there. She also knew that he would kiss her eventually. It might not be tonight, it might not even be tomorrow, but eventually, he'd kiss her and they'd both be lost again. She knew all of that, but it was easier to lie to herself so she did.

  "The pheasant is still here."

  Jo glanced around as they rode into the clearing and noted the pheasant still over the fire, as well as his saddle bag beside the dead fire, but she merely nodded and slid off the horse as he brought it to a halt. Once on the ground, she simply stood there, unsure what to do. Were they staying, or just gathering the pheasant and bag and setting out?

  "We'll stay here again tonight and set out at first light," Cam announced as he dismounted and began to unsaddle his mount.

  Well that answered that, Jo thought wryly, but found herself staring at Cam as he worked. He hadn't bothered with his shirt when he'd dressed to come after her. In fact, his plaid was merely wrapped around his waist rather than donned properly. It left his chest and back bare and she couldn't seem to stop watching the play of muscles in his back as he worked. The man was a feast for the eyes.

  And this was going to be a very long journey indeed, she thought grimly as her gaze dropped to his naked legs below the plaid. There was no way she was going to resist him. She may as well just give in and enjoy him while she had the chance. Joan was pretty sure no other man would stir her as he did. Cam would probably be the only lover she ever had, a fond memory to keep her warm on countless cold nights. She may as well make as many memories as she could, she reasoned.

  "If ye do no' stop looking at me like that, lass, ye're likely to bring on something ye do no' want," Cam warned suddenly, turning to eye her with his hands on his hips in a manner that suggested he was annoyed.

  "Mayhap I'm wantin' to start something," Joan said quietly.

  Cam stilled briefly and then tilted his head, confusion playing on his face. "Did we no' just agree we'd try to behave?"

  "Aye," she said and then shrugged helplessly. "But I don't want to. That's why I was leaving, because I knew so long as I was with you I'd want you. And it just seems to me we aren't likely to succeed at behaving, at least not for more than a day or two. Then we'll give in to it, but we'll have wasted those two days, so why bother? Besides, 'tis not as if you can put the eggs back in the shell once you've cracked them."

  "Eggs?" he asked blankly, and she clarified.

  "My innocence is gone, and I can't get it back. Denying ourselves will not change that. 'Tis a long journey and--"

  That was as far as she got before Cam closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. Joan went willingly with only a pinch of regret and self-recrimination. There would be much more of that at the journey's end she was sure, but for now, her conscience was content to wait.

  "WAKE UP, LASS. WE'RE IN SCOTLAND."

  Joan blinked her eyes open and peered sleepily around, confused at first as to where she was. But then she realized she was sleeping in Cam's lap on his horse. She'd obviously dozed off and shortly after they'd set out, from what she could tell. At least she didn't recall being awake for long after they'd broken camp and set out. Joan wasn't terribly surprised that she had, they'd been up most of the night as Cam had taught her several ways to find the release he gave her.

  "I'm sorry," she murmured, straightening in front of him.

  "Fer what?" he asked with surprise.

  "For falling asleep on you," Joan explained. "You must be tired too after last night."

  "I slept all day yesterday," Cam reminded her gently. "I am fine. And ye've naught to apologize for. Ye need yer rest. In fact, I only woke ye because there is an inn just around the bend that I was thinking we could stop at fer the nooning meal."

  "Oh," Joan said with surprise and smiled. "That sounds nice."

  "Aye. I thought so," he said with amusement and urged his mount to move faster now that she was awake.

  The inn they stopped at was a pretty little building that sat all by itself on the side of the road. There must be a village or town nearby, but Joan had no idea where it was. She couldn't see any other buildings about. Cam left his horse with a stable boy who ran out to greet them, then ushered Joan inside. The door led into a good sized great room lined with rows of trestle tables and a stairwell leading upstairs where she was sure there would be bedchambers to rent. The great room was empty when they first entered, and Cam was seating Joan at one of the benches that ran the length of the table when a door at the back of the room opened and a big bellied man with a wide smile stepped out to join them.

  "Good day, good day, sirs, and what can I get fer ye on this fine day?" the man said cheerfully as he bustled over to them.

  "Ale fer myself," Cam said.

  "And fer the lad?" the man asked when he hesitated and glanced to Joan in question.

  "The same," she said, trying for a deeper voice than her own. It wasn't until the man used the word boy that she recalled how she was dressed. Funny how she managed to forget about that around Cam.

  "And would ye be wantin' something to eat too?" the man asked happily. "Me wife has made a fine chicken stew and a bean pottage."

  "That'll do," Cam said when Joan nodded. "Two please."

  "Good good," the man said rubbing his hands together. "Sit down, me laird, and I'll let me wife ken to serve up two trenchers, then fetch the drinks."

  Nodding, Cam settled at the table. Once the man was out of earshot, he half-whispered, "I keep fergetting ye're dressed as a boy. Truthfully, now that I ken ye're a girl I'm amazed
I ever believed otherwise, braies or no braies."

  Joan smiled faintly at the compliment and shrugged. "As me ma always said, people see what they expect to. See someone in braies, and most would automatically count me a boy."

  "Aye, I suppose so," Cam murmured, but shook his head just the same, suggesting he still didn't understand how everyone didn't at once recognize her as a woman.

  Their host returned with their drinks, followed closely by a curvaceous little woman carrying their food. The stew was delicious and hearty and after commenting on how good the meal was, they mostly ate in a companionable silence until Joan asked, "How long do you think 'twill take us to get to MacKay?"

  Cam was silent for a moment, and then shrugged mildly. "A week and a half or two weeks."

  His answer made her eyebrows rise. She'd expected it to take that long walking. They were on horseback.

  "With the two o' us on his back, I do no' want to make me horse go too quickly," Cam explained and then grinned. " 'Sides, why rush? I ha'e nothing to hurry home fer." He paused and then asked, "Is there a rush on delivering the message? Was it to be there by a certain time?"

  "Nay," Joan admitted.

  "Good." He relaxed and smiled. "Then we shall take our time and enjoy the journey."

  Joan nodded and returned her attention to her food, but she knew he meant to enjoy the journey in more ways than one. She also knew she would enjoy it too, so didn't mind. In fact, she was rather pleased to know she had another week and a half of his company, or maybe even two weeks.

  "Have ye thought on what ye plan to do once ye've delivered the message?" Cam asked suddenly and Joan glanced to him blankly.

  After a pause, she shook her head slowly. "Nay. Return home to Grimsby I suppose."

  "Grimsby, aye, ye said ye were from there," Cam murmured, his gaze on his food.

  Joan didn't comment. She'd told him she had been born and raised in Grimsby during one of their earlier conversations.

  "But ye've no family there, do ye?" he asked.

  "Nay," she admitted. "Me mother was the only family I had."

  He nodded, and then took a deep breath and said, "Ye're a talented healer. 'Tis a valuable skill. Mayhap ye should consider settling at Sinclair and working there."

  Joan paused and lifted her head slowly to look at him, but he was peering at his food with a concentration that was completely unnecessary. Avoiding her gaze as he made the suggestion? Did that mean he wanted her to stay at Sinclair or not? Was he just making the offer because he felt bad for her? Or because he didn't want this . . . whatever this was, to end?

  Joan didn't say anything to that. In truth, his suggestion had quite taken her by surprise. She hadn't expected it. Joan hadn't even considered that this relationship they had, whatever it was, might continue beyond this journey. And she wasn't sure that it was a good thing if it did. She had no desire to be his mistress, so there was no future for whatever they were sharing just now.

  "I'll be right back," Cam said suddenly and she glanced up to see him getting up from the table. Joan nodded and watched as he walked over to the tavern owner. Her curiosity rose when he put his head close to the other man's to murmur in a voice she couldn't hear. Joan actually caught herself straining to hear what he was saying, but it was impossible from this distance. Forcing herself to relax, she turned her attention to finishing the last of her meal and was just swallowing the last bite when Cam returned.

  "If ye're all done we should head out," he said gently.

  Nodding, Joan stood and started toward the door, but stiffened and glanced nervously around when he put his hand on her back to direct her. The tavern owner was nowhere in sight, however. She relaxed slowly and allowed him to usher her out.

  "Wait here. I'll fetch the horse," Cam murmured as they stepped outside.

  Joan nodded, and watched him cross the courtyard to the stables at the side of the building. He was quick about it, seeming barely to enter when he was coming back out, leading his mount. He hadn't taken more than a couple steps though, when the tavern owner rushed up to him with a small sack in hand. Cam took the sack and turned to hook it to his saddle. He then reached into his saddlebag and retrieved something that he turned and gave the tavern owner. Judging by the man's beaming smile, she'd guess it was probably coins and wondered what Cam had bought as she watched him nod at the man, before mounting and continuing over to collect her.

  Joan took the hand he offered, and settled herself on the saddle behind him when he pulled her up. She didn't ask why he'd placed her behind him. She already knew. The tavern owner was watching. She was supposed to be a boy; sleeping cuddled in his lap wasn't the usual spot a peasant boy would ride with a laird. So she simply settled herself in a comfortable position and slipped her arms around his waist.

  They rode until late afternoon before Cam found a spot for them to make camp. Another clearing, but this time without even a river nearby let alone a waterfall. It would do though, she supposed as Cam helped her off his mount.

  "I'll go hunt up some dinner," she announced as Cam dismounted.

  "No need," he said at once, retrieving the three bags hooked to his saddle and setting them on the ground. "I bought some roasted mutton from the tavern keeper ere we left. We're set fer sup tonight."

  So that's what he'd bought, Joan thought with a smile. It would be nice not to have to look for their dinner for a night. Besides, mutton beat rabbit any day. Bending, she picked up the smaller bag she'd seen the tavern owner give Cam and quickly opened it to look inside, wondering if the tavern keeper had included bread or anything else with the meal. The first thing she saw was a smaller sack on top of the food. Eyebrows rising, she pulled it out and opened it as well, then tipped the contents onto her hand.

  "What--?" she began with confusion and then glanced up with surprise when Cam was suddenly there taking the item from her.

  "Ye weren't supposed to see that," he said with what sounded like embarrassment as he tucked the item back in its little bag.

  "Pig intestine?" she asked with amusement.

  "Sheep intestine," Cam muttered and then sighed and said, "I ken 'tis a bit late, but I thought if we had no' already got ye with child, then I should don the intestine and prevent--"

  He paused when Jo covered his mouth with her hand. For a moment she didn't speak. His thoughtfulness touched her. It showed at least some caring on his part. Although, to be fair to the man, he had been terribly solicitous of her nearly from the start.

  "Thank you," she said finally, taking her hand from his mouth. "But there's no need for that. I have been chewing Devil's plague seeds every day since our first time together."

  "Devil's plague?" he asked with confusion.

  "Some call it bird's nest or wild carrot," Joan said, but he still looked blank. Apparently, no one he knew had used the seed before, or didn't tell him if they did. "It stops a man's seed from planting and bearing fruit."

  "Oh," he murmured eyebrows rising. "Yer mother . . . ?"

  "One of many things she taught me," Joan said quietly and then handed him the bag of food and slipped past him. "I'll gather wood for a fire."

  "Wait," Cam said suddenly, catching her arm before she could move away. When she paused and turned to him in question, she found him frowning. "It is no' dangerous is it? I've heard o' women taking things for such a purpose and dying, poisoned from the--"

  "Nay. 'Tis safe," she said reassuringly. "The women you've heard of probably took hemlock or some such thing, which will dislodge a babe but can kill the mother too. Devil's plague won't."

  "Oh . . . good." He let his breath out on a sigh, and then held out the bag of food again and said, "Take a look and see what we have. I'll fetch the wood."

  Joan automatically took the bag, but merely watched him walk away, wondering why the conversation had seemed to sober them both so much.

  Fear had made Joan chew the seeds the day before. She hadn't thought of them until she'd been preparing to leave him to set out on her own.
In fact, she hadn't even considered the fact that what they'd done could leave her with child until that point. Her concerns had been more about what had happened and why. She'd begun to fret and worry that she was just a convenience to him. That any female he'd found himself with would have received his attentions. Despite his claims that he liked her, she didn't understand how he could want her with her face swollen and bruised.

  Joan had forgotten that concern once he touched and kissed her, however. She couldn't seem to think of anything but the sensations he caused in her when he did that. It was only afterward, when she was awake and he was sleeping that she'd admitted that she just couldn't resist the man. One touch and she was lost. So it was better to travel alone and avoid the temptation he offered altogether. That was when other considerations had managed to surface in her mind . . . like the fact that she was now no longer untried. That hadn't bothered Joan so much. She never planned to marry anyway so hadn't worried about a future husband's upset at her lack of purity. But the possibility of being with child had occurred to her then as well, and that had worried her. Actually, it had scared her silly, and Joan had immediately dug through her bag of medicinals for the wild carrot seeds she knew were in there.

  Fortunately, she had a lot of them, hopefully enough to last out the rest of the journey, because she was quite sure she'd need them.

  Chapter 7

  JOAN NESTLED CLOSER AGAINST CAM WITH A sleepy sigh and smiled when his hand immediately slid down her back, massaging her through the material of her tunic. The smile slipped away and she wrinkled her nose, though, when he pushed the plaid they were cocooned in down to their shoulders, exposing their heads and shoulders to the cool morning air.

  " 'Tis chilly," she complained with a little shiver, trying to burrow closer.

  "Aye. The nights are growing cooler. Summer is ending," he added, not sounding pleased.

  Joan smiled at the complaint in his voice and shrugged as she said philosophically, "Everything comes to an end."

  When Cam went still beneath her, she lifted her head to peer at him in question.

  Cam stared back, his expression dismayed.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.