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Josephine watched his face, the strong lines of it, and she began to feel the pangs of attraction again. Something about the man had attracted her from the beginning, whether or not she realized it, and it was something that was only growing stronger with time.

Thank you,” she said after a moment. “That would mean a great deal to me.”

Andrew carefully put the necklace in the money pouch on his belt. When he looked at her again, he couldn’t help but notice she was still looking at him with that same soft expression. Gratitude , he thought. Or… something more…

Perhaps that was only wishful thinking.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said after a moment. “Now, Lady Josephine, may I escort you safely back to Torridon?”

Josephine returned his smile; she couldn’t help it.

She placed her hand in his extended one and he lifted her effortlessly onto the saddle in front of him.

When she was settled, he squeezed the horse lightly and it walked forth into the forest, heading back to the main road.

As the animal picked its way among the bushes and roots, Josephine was very conscious of Andrew’s own warm body next to her.

It was making her heart race simply to experience it.

The forest around her was alive with sunlight flickering and birds singing, and she smiled as a pair of butterflies flitted past her.

But among it all, she found herself enjoying Andrew’s presence.

It was comforting, warm, and settling. She felt safe, as she’d never felt in her life.

Her eyes wandered up to the trees as the horse carried them into the shadows, and the situation they left behind them seemed like a wild, impossible nightmare.

Andrew had been magnificent from the start.

From the moment he appeared and had charmed his way into the camp, he had been in complete control, only Josephine had been too blind to see it.

She had been too wrapped up in her own outrage to even realize that he had come to help her.

That had taken some time, but she was still sorry she’d doubted him.

Like a white knight, he’d ridden to her rescue.

How he even found her didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that she had trusted him completely.

And she had; well, after a few minutes, anyway, once she figured out that he’d come to help her.

Then, her own foolishness nearly destroyed his attempt, but he’d salvaged it beautifully.

And the fight; it had been like watching him at practice as he’d neatly dispatched the men thrown at him.

To watch him made her chest feel strangely tight, her heart beating in her ears.

It had been pure excitement to watch him, despite her concerns and the danger involved.

Josephine would admit, only to herself, that she was glad The Red Fury had come to Torridon. He was proving to be a welcome diversion for her during a period that seemed to hold little more than anxiety and grief.

As Josephine was lost to her thoughts, Andrew had some thoughts of his own with her sweet body pressed up against him.

He, too, was secretly glad he had come to Torridon.

Much to his surprise, he had never felt more at peace than he did now, riding through the peaceful trees with a gentle breeze lifting tendrils of Josephine’s hair until they tickled his cheek.

Feeling her against him was the most natural thing in the world.

He had never in his life experienced such things, not with any woman he’d ever known.

Somehow, Josephine was different. He found himself looking forward to the coming months and wondered what they would bring.

He wondered how long he could stretch out his contract at Torridon.

“How did you find me?” Josephine’s question distracted him from his thoughts.

He had to focus on what she was asking, so carried away with daydreams he was. “We followed you as you chased after the two children,” he said. “Why were you chasing them, anyway?”

She felt foolish explaining what had started the ruckus. “They had stolen two pies from the kitchen,” she said. “I did not want them to get away with it, so I ran after them. I would have caught them, too, had I not been hindered by this heavy surcote.”

He smiled, looking off into the forest. “All of that was over two pies?” he asked. “I thought they had stolen the family jewels, at least. Or, mayhap coin. Or, Christ, the gold plate straight from the great hall, or even….”

“I get the point,” she said, cutting him off with a grin and turning in the saddle to look at him.

He was dangerously close, closer than was advisable.

Her initial intent had been to throw him a threatening look, but the expression faded at the sight of his beautiful face and she found she had to turn away quickly lest he see the blush in her cheeks.

But, in retrospect, the taking of two pies by two hungry children did seem like a foolish reason for endangering her life and the lives of those sworn to protect her. She began to feel a little sheepish and decided to change the subject.

“Where were you born, Andrew?” she asked.

Andrew hadn’t missed the flush of her cheeks when she’d turned away.

He thought he might have had a bit of a flush in his, as well, mostly because the last time she’d been that close to him, he kissed her with a hunger he’d never before experienced.

He’d like to try it again sometime, hoping she wouldn’t bite him again if he did.

Somehow, he suspected she wouldn’t.

“England,” he said after a moment.

“Where in England?”

“Near Haldane,” he said distantly.

She should have picked up on his reluctant tone, but she didn’t. To her, it was a pleasant conversation. To Andrew, it was dredging up things he worked hard to forget.

“Haldane is almost in Scotland,” she said. “You look decidedly more Scot, with your red hair. You do not speak like a Scots.”

“Nor do you.”

Josephine shrugged. “My mother thought we should not speak so,” she said. “She had an English lady-in-waiting who taught my brother and sister and me how to speak the way of the English. And what of you? Why do you not speak like a Scots?”

“Because I fostered in England.”

“But you seem to be based in Scotland,” she said. “Do you have kin in Scotland?”

His soft brown eyes darkened. “My mother was Scots, but she spent most of her time in England,” he said. “My father was English. That is how they met.”

“Oh?” Josephine’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “Where was your mother from?”

“Dumfries.”

“But she lives in England now?” Josephine asked, oblivious to the dark memories she was awakening in him. “What says she to your mercenary way of life?”

He didn’t want to talk about things that upset him, and he most certainly didn’t want to talk about his mother. Her chatter was growing annoying now. “I have not seen my mother in several years,” he said, his tone bordering on sharp. “I believe she is dead and we will not speak on her.”

Josephine was a little shocked at his tone and shut her mouth immediately.

Realizing he’d sounded harsh, Andrew was sorry he had snapped at her.

He’d not meant to, but where his mother was concerned, he was emotionally unsteady.

The last time he’d seen his mother, she was being dragged to her chambers by his brother’s men and there wasn’t a damned thing Andrew could do to help her.

Nay, he didn’t want to talk about the gentle Elaine.

The woman he’d failed those years ago.

The destrier came out of the woods and stomped up onto the dirt road, heading towards Torridon, which loomed in the distance.

For a ride that had been so pleasant a short time ago, Josephine could not wait for it to end.

She had no idea why Andrew was angry with her and, in truth, he had hurt her feelings with his sharp tone.

But why did she care if he was angry? Whatever she’d said to anger him, she didn’t care any longer.

She wanted to get back to Torridon, off of the horse, and away from the moody Andrew d’Vant.

So much for the warm attraction she felt for him. It had been a fleeting thing.

They rode to the castle in silence and entered the outer bailey. People were milling about, hurrying to their destinations, and a flock of loose chickens squawked in panic as the horse walked through them. Somewhere overhead, she heard a knight bellowing orders up on the wall.

A sense of relief and familiarity flooded into her as they crossed into the inner bailey.

She was glad to be home. But her anger and confusion had not abated and, immediately upon crossing the threshold into the inner bailey, Josephine pulled herself from Andrew’s grip and slid to the ground.

Without so much as a word, she marched off across the mud and straight into the keep.

Andrew watched her ramrod-straight back as she mounted the stairs and disappeared into the bowels of the castle.

He knew he had hurt her feelings, but he could not apologize without including an explanation and he wasn’t ready to do that yet.

His past, his secrets… they were for him and him alone.

They weren’t for him to share with someone he’d only known a few days.

Even if he was wildly attracted to her.

As Andrew turned the destrier towards the stables, a smile played on his lips.

All was not lost; he would see Josephine at the evening meal and, mayhap, he could make amends without apologizing for his shortness with her.

Women had always told him that he possessed uncanny charm.

If that were truly so, then it would come in handy tonight, as the thought of Josephine angry with him strangely disturbed him.

He didn’t want her to be angry with him.

Tonight, he would do what he could to change that.