Page 10 of Savage Kilted Highlander (Temptation in Tartan #9)

CHAPTER TEN

S he sat back on her heels and looked up at him with an expression of bewilderment. “What on earth was that for?” she asked. “Do you not want tea, is that it?”

“Of course I want tea! ’Tis bloody freezin’, but ye should have waited and let me make it.”

“Ah, I think I understand. By taking it upon myself to make the tea, I have undermined your sense of control. You are the master here, and you wish to be the who says what I, your helpless prisoner, may eat and drink. How sad you are that it should mean so much to you.”

“That’s nae it at all!” Bane protested, annoyed with himself as much as her. “’Tis only that that’s all the tea we have, and once it’s gone, it’ll be a while ’til I can get any more. We’re miles from any village, and I’ve nay intention of stoppin’ any time soon fer supplies.” That was a lie. He could easily get more supplies if he wished to, but he wanted to spite her, make her feel some genuine hardship for once in her privileged English life. “We havetae make what we have last, but ye wouldnae ken anythin’ about that, would ye? Ye’re used tae getting’ everything ye want. But ye’ll nae be happy if all ye have tae drink is water.” He stuffed the packet of tea in his pocket, earning a baleful glare from those unsettling green eyes of hers.

“I am freezing to death because of you. I did not ask for any of this, and I am not used to living like an animal even if you are! You have dragged me across the country and forced me to sleep in a cave, and you begrudge me a cup of hot tea to try to warm up. If I die of cold, you’ll not get your ransom,” she snapped back.

It dawned on him why she seemed to have lost much of her fear of him. “Oh, ye’ve worked that out fer yersel’, have ye? I suppose ye think ye’re very clever, that ye can boss me around and I’ll nae hurt ye because I need ye in one piece tae bargain with yer faither.”

“Yes, you admitted as much yourself last night,” she replied with an air of triumph.

“That was only tae get ye tae dae as I told ye,” he retorted, bending down and snatching up the little knife.

She stared at him for a moment, and then she smiled. “Oho! So, that is what has made you so angry. It was not the tea at all. You thought I was planning to attack you with that little blunt knife! You were scared of me!”

“Dinnae be so stupid,” he growled, putting the knife in his pocket and sitting down on the blanket on the opposite side of the fire. “Why would I be scared of a wee waif like ye?”

“Is that so? That must be why you just took the knife away and put it in your pocket. You are a very poor liar. Do you not think that I have had many chances to attack you while we have been here? You forgot to hide the knife last night, and you left me alone with it this morning. How careless of you. You had better keep a tight hold on it from now on, lest I give into temptation.” She laughed, a light, mischievous sound.

Momentarily lost for words, feeling foolish because he knew she was right, Bane watched in silence as she divided the steaming tea into the two beakers. Then she opened the jar of honey and said, “May I have the knife, please, for the honey?”

“Ach, take it!” he muttered, pulling it from his pocket and throwing it down on the blanket next to her in defeat.

“Thank you.” She added a smidgeon of honey to her beaker and stirred it. Then she pointedly set the knife back down on the blanket and placed his tea next to it. The other beaker she took for herself, moving deliberately away from him to the other side of the fire, her expression one of amused scorn.

She sat down, sticking her small, straight nose in the air, making an almost comical show of gathering her dignity by pulling her grubby skirts and the edges of the blanket more tightly around her. Bane picked up his tea and drank, grudgingly admitting to himself that it tasted better than his. Covertly, he watched her over the rim of his cup, marveling at that way her wild locks tumbled about her face as she cradled the hot beaker between her delicate white hands and blew across the steaming surface of the tea.

Despite her frown, her features were still soft from sleep, but she looked worryingly pale and drawn. A strong urge to protect her welled up from deep inside him, and he struggled to push it down. ’Tis me that needs protectin’ from her, he thought to himself. Nevertheless, part of him wished things could be different. She was staring into the fire, so he allowed his gaze to move over the pale symmetry of her face undisturbed. It finally came to rest on her full pink lips, which sipped so delicately at her tea.

I wonder what it would be like tae kiss her…

He shook his head to get a hold of himself.

Ach, I’m a bloody fool! I’ve nae business thinkin’ such things…. freein’ Tav is what’s important here.

Besides, she wouldn’t have kissed him if he were the last man on earth!

Once more unsettled by the response she drew from him, he felt the need to frighten her again. Annoyingly, she was right about that too, he did need to regain control of the situation. Of her. So, he injected as much menace as he could into his voice when he said, “If ye imagine ye can walk all over me just because ye think I need ye fer the ransom, ye’re very wrong. Yer faither will pay me what I demand… whether ye’re dead or alive.”

That had the desired effect. She almost dropped her tea, and her big green eyes flew wide with terror. “You-you horrible man! You are just saying that to frighten me into submission,” she choked out.

“Am I? I wouldnae be too sure of that. Ye dinnae ken what I’m capable of,” Bane replied coldly, noticing how she seemed to shrink into her blanket, her knuckles bone white as they tightened on the beaker. He knew he should have been happy that his callous lie had been so effective, but instead, he only felt bad for scaring her. He could not help thinking of Fia again and how scared she would be in Constance’s position. On top of that, he was pretty sure Tav would be furious when he found out his brother had abducted an innocent young girl to win his freedom.

But it daesnae matter if he hates me for it, as long as he’s a free man.

Bane clung to his resolve to save Tav, no matter the cost.

At that point, Constance’s stomach rumbled loudly. Bane watched as her cheeks immediately turned bright crimson. His anger drained away, and he stifled the urge to laugh, but he figured that might only lessen her fear of him again. So, with his cold mask firmly in place, he got up and fetched some breakfast provisions from the pack, returning with some oat cakes, butter, and more cheese.

He handed her a share of the food. “We need tae get goin’ soon if we’re tae make good time today. The rain’s stopped fer the time bein’, but ’tis still pretty wet out there. It’ll be muddy and hard goin’ today, and ye’ll need all yer strength. So, eat.”

She took the food, looking as though he had just handed her a dead mouse. But all she said was, “Then why do we have to travel at all? Why can we not just stay here?”

Why indeed? It was tempting to stay in the relative warmth and comfort of the cave, sparring with her. But it was impossible. “’Tis out of the question. We’re still well within Kerr’s territory.” Any delay in getting across the border would increases the chances of them being tracked and caught by Kerr’s men, but he didn’t want her to know that. He was not prepared to do anything that would endanger Tav’s release. He paused to drink some tea before adding, “We must go much further.”

“But we have already come miles!” she said quietly in obvious dismay. “How much further are you going to force me to go?”

“Today, I wantae cover another ten miles at least.”

Her face fell even further. “What! That is impossible! I will never make it.”

“Aye, ye will.”

There was short pause, during which she picked up an oatcake and examined it dubiously. “Well, will you at least tell me how many more days we have to travel before you demand the ransom? Frankly, it cannot come soon enough. I cannot wait to be rid of you.”

“Likewise,” he replied, wondering why he did not merely tell her to shut up and stop pestering him with questions. As it was, for some reason, he had found himself telling her far more than she needed to know. “Three or four. It depends on how fast we travel and if the weather holds. I have a place in mind that’ll be far enough.”

“And what will happen then?”

“I’ll contact yer faither and arrange an exchange.”

“And what will you get in exchange for me?”

“I’ve told ye before, mind yer own business.”

“And I have told you before, you have made it my business.” She held out the oatcake. “What is this?”

“ Ye’ve never seen an oatcake before?” he asked in amazement.

“If I had, I would not be asking you what it is, would I?” She hesitantly ate the cheese.

“’Tis a Scottish delicacy.” That was stretch. “Made from oats, obviously. ’Tis best eaten with butter, maybe a bit of cheese and pickles or jam, anythin ye like really.”

“Honey?” Her eyes lit up.

“Aye, ye can eat it with honey if ye like.”

She held out her hand. “Can I please have some butter and honey?”

Silently, he gave her what she asked for and watched while she slathered butter and honey over the oatcakes. Inwardly amused by her changing expression as she chewed and then swallowed, he found himself waiting for her verdict. She brushed the crumbs form her hands and said, “Mmm, that is surprisingly pleasant. I think I like oatcakes. With honey at any rate.”

Bane reached over for the knife and butter. “So, ye admit tae likin’ at least one thing that’s Scottish then,” he remarked, buttering his own oatcakes and eating them with the cheese.

“One thing,” she said with a meaningful look. “And it’s definitely not you.”

During the first part of the journey, they stuck to the forest trackways. Bane forced a protesting Constance to ride with him again, her wrists tied and hidden beneath her cloak, lest they meet anyone. Lucy followed behind, attached to them by a long leading rope. The tracks were muddy and interspersed with water-filled ruts. In order to protect the horses from mishaps, progress was necessarily slow.

Constance subsided into silence as they rode, which surprised Bane. He expected that at any moment, she would start complaining about the cold. He could not deny it was indeed cold, with pockets of freezing fog lurking in the hollows of the forest. In addition to that, Bane could smell rain in the air. When he periodically looked up through the canopy at the sky, it concerned him to see it growing increasingly overcast.

Rain would come soon, he was sure of it, and if last night was anything to go by, it would likely be another deluge. The forest would provide them some shelter, but once they came out into more open country, as they shortly would, he feared it might become of a problem. He worried that if the weather continued to deteriorate, they would not make his target of ten miles that day, and he did not know what they would do for shelter if that happened.

He had not bargained on the poor weather disrupting his carefully laid plans. He had gone ahead days before and prepared an old, deserted farm cottage for them to stay in that night, with plenty of firewood and a stock of food. There were even beds to sleep in, which he thought should please Constance. It would be far more comfortable than the cave, so she would have less to moan about.

But as time passed, and the rain began bucketing down again, he knew that without a miracle, they would not make the cottage that evening. He knew he was hardy enough to survive despite the conditions, but Constance? No. He had to find a shelter of some sort for her benefit and fast.

As he expected, once they emerged from the partial shelter of the forest, the rain hit them. Within minutes, their cloaks were soaked, though he did his best to shield Constance from the worst of it. She huddled between his thighs, pulling her hood about her head with a shiver.

Trying to ignore the icy rain drops slanting into his face, blurring his vision, he turned them up the track which ran up the side of a steep, rocky hillside to the top. On one side was a precipitous drop of a couple of hundred feet, scattered with shale, small rocks, and larger boulders.

“Oh, my God, do not make me go along there!” Constance cried when she saw it, her face a picture of terror. She covered her eyes. “It is too narrow and slippery. We shall fall and be killed!”

As though to emphasize her point, his horse chose that moment to catch its hoof on the muddy rut and slipped. Bane’s heart almost burst with fear as he clutched at the reins, half expecting they would indeed go plummeting down the hillside, just as Constance had predicated. But by some miracle, the sturdy beast managed to right itself and plodded onward through the driving rain.

More relieved than he would have liked to admit, Bane slowed down even further. He patted the horse gratefully and spoke encouraging words to it. And though, in truth, he shared Constance’s trepidation, he nevertheless sought to deliberately play down the danger so as not to frighten her even more. He worried she would become completely hysterical and thus unmanageable if he did not try to reassure her that they were safe.

“Dinnae make such a fuss. We’re nae tae near the edge. ’Tis just a wee bit muddy, ’tis all. Besides, we’re nearly at the top and it’ll be more sheltered there.” That was a bare-faced lie. They had at least another half a mile to go to the top. But he had to keep her calm somehow.