Page 13 of Savage Kilted Highlander (Temptation in Tartan #9)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

C onstance was awoken the next morning by the extreme cold and the sounds of Bane moving about the cabin. She opened her eyes to the fire burning brightly and Bane already fully dressed and making tea. He saw she was awake but said nothing. When the tea was ready, he passed her a steaming cup. She sat up and accepted it gratefully, cradling in in her hands, welcoming the heat.

She sipped the hot liquid, relishing the sweetness of the honey, just as she liked it. She could not help but be touched that he remembered how she liked it. “Is it still snowing?” she asked, still blurred from her restless sleep.

“Nay, ’tis blown over. ’Tis cold, but the sun’s come out and the snow has settled, but ’tis nae too deep fer travellin’. We cannae ride just yet, but we should still make better time today. A few more miles and we’ll be out of yer faither’s lands,” he replied, setting out some more oatcakes, butter, and cheese for breakfast. “But we should leave as soon as we’ve eaten.”

She was reluctant to leave the fire and brave the cold again but did not bother to protest. She knew it would do no good. They ate in relative silence and drank their tea. Then, while Bane prepared the horses, Constance rose, put on her boots, and tried to distract herself from the coming ordeal by clearing up their meal and putting the things they had used away in Bane’s pack. She handed it to him then returned to shake out and fold up the blankets. He nodded his approval as she brought them over to him. She told herself she was stupid for caring about what he thought.

While he finished loading up their gear, she wrapped herself up as warmly as she could for the journey ahead. She saw that he had folded her previously wet clothing into a neat pile and left it on his blanket near the fire.

“Thank you,” she said, once more moved by his thoughtfulness despite herself. She picked them up and found them only still a little damp. She stowed them in her saddlebag and secured it to Lucy’s saddle, pausing to pet the mare while she was at it. As before, she drew strength from Lucy’s stoic calm in the midst of her predicament. She was glad that despite his hard exterior, Bane seemed to care more for the beasts’ comfort than his own. It hinted that he had a soft spot for animals, which she happened to share.

When they were finally ready to go, she was disappointed when Bane insisted on tying her wrists again. Though the conditions were hardly ideal, she still had the idea of escaping lodged firmly in her head. They left the cabin behind, each leading their own horse, for she agreed with Bane that it was still too hazardous to risk riding because of the poor conditions underfoot.

They moved slowly, their boots crunching in the crisp snow as they traversed a stretch of moorland beneath a pale, wintry sun. Constance soon found that the exercise warmed her up. Compared to yesterday’s nightmare journey, it was positive bliss. When the sun reached its zenith in the sky, they reached a forested area. Passing beneath the trees, Constance noticed there was hardly any snow on the track ahead. When they came to an open, grassy spot with a burn nearby, Bane announced they would stop there for something to eat and let the horses rest.

There was lush grass for the beasts to eat, while she and Bane drank water and ate some more of the dry bread with cheese, and what Constance now knew was dried goat meat. She was so hungry, she ate it without protest.

Their meal was soon over, and she stood up while Bane went down to the burn to refill the waterskin. They were high up, and as she looked around, over the forest that stretched out below, she thought she saw something that made her heart leap with hope. There was a curl of grey smoke off in the distance, beyond the trees. She blinked to make sure she was not imagining it in her desperation to get away. But no, there it was, rising into the sky, a sign of human habitation.

How far away it was, what it was, a farm perhaps, or a cottage, she did not care. There would be people there, people who could help her . It beckoned to her, a beacon of hope, something to aim for.

This is my chance. But I must act quickly.

While Bane was crouched by the burn, she crept over to the horses, snatched the saddle bag containing all her worldly possessions from Lucy’s back and slung it over her shoulder. Checking over her shoulder that Bane had not seen, she picked up her skirts and took off, biting at the knots around her wrists to loosen them as she ran as fast as she could into the trees.

As she plunged into the tree line, the rope fell away. With her hands free, fuelled by a mixture of fear and determination, she pelted over the uneven ground beneath her feet, leaping over tree roots, ignoring the branches that whipped at her face and snagged at her cloak as she raced into the depths of the forest, looking for a hiding place where he would never find her.

However, her optimism soon faded because her lack of familiarity with the terrain proved to be her downfall. She was sprinting ahead so fast, she did not notice when she came to a steep embankment. When she did, it was too late. Teetering on the edge, she slipped and lost her footing. She ended up on her backside, plummeting uncontrollably down through rocks and bushes and plunged straight into a fast-moving river.

The icy water knocked the breath from her body, and fast currents took hold of her, dragging her downstream. The saddlebag containing all her clothes, money and jewels was torn from her hands and snatched away by the rushing waters, but that was the least of her worries. With her heavy skirts and cloak weighing her down, she struggled to stay afloat, alternately taking in great mouthfuls of water then gasping for air as she was swept along and repeatedly dunked.

In the brief moments when she could snatch a breath, she screamed as loud as she could above the sound of the water, “Help!” praying with all her heart that Bane would hear her and come to rescue her.

She could not remember ever being so grateful to see anyone as she was when she saw him tearing out from the between the trees, sprinting down the riverbank, and without a moment’s hesitation, diving into the river. She was tiring, fighting to take in air, her skirts dragging her under repeatedly. But each time she surfaced, she saw he was a little bit closer, steadily cleaving his way towards her through the tumultuous waters, his powerful arms rising and falling like pistons.

She was crying with relief when he reached her, and his strong arms pulled her from the current, turning her on her back, one arm cradling her chin to keep it above the water as he swam with one arm, angling them towards the bank, using the current to take them gradually to the riverbank and calmer waters. He staggered out to firm ground with her in his arms before putting her down and collapsing next to her, both of them gasping for breath.

It took Constance longer to get her wind back than Bane. When she did, though she knew she owed him her life, she was almost afraid to look at him. Drenched, shivering, and still terrified from almost drowning, she felt terribly guilty and fully expected him to unleash his anger or scorn upon her. And she felt she deserved it. She realized her rash decision to run had been foolhardy and had put them both in danger.

I could have died! And he could have died trying to save me.

But instead, he sat up and asked, “Are ye hurt?”

She shook her head, still too shaken to speak. Nevertheless, he began examining her for injuries, inspecting her hands, her face and neck, lifting up her arms and legs. She glimpsed a flicker of anxiety in his eyes as he checked her over though, since she was fully clothed, her cloak and dress a waterlogged mess tangled around her, what he could tell from his examination she could not fathom. But in truth, she welcomed his reassuring touch and was grateful to be alive.

Once he was satisfied that she was largely unharmed, he sat back, his brows knitted, and said in a chastening tone, “That was a stupid stunt tae pull. Where did ye think ye were gonnae go, miles from anywhere, with nay horse, nay food, and snow everywhere? If ye hadnae drowned, ye would have certainly frozen tae death. It was plain reckless. It was lucky I heard yer screams, eh? I hope ye’ve learned yer lesson and willnae try anythin’ like that again.”

Constance could only stare at him in dazed wonder. It was hardy the tongue lashing she had been expecting, and his tone lacked any hint of true anger or malice. They sat looking into each other’s eyes for several long moments, water running off them, both starting to shiver from the cold. It was the oddest thing, but she felt he was looking deep inside her, into her soul, that he knew her. At that moment, something shifted inside her, and things suddenly clicked into place.

Over the last few days, he had driven her hard, it was true. But all along, he had given her hints of the man beneath the gruff exterior—the small attentions to her comfort and well-being, his care for the horses. Now he had saved her life, and even though she would not have been in this position if he had not abducted her, that counted for a lot. He had proved that she could trust him with her life.

As she looked into his beautiful eyes, it dawned on her that Bane was not a monster at all, not the savage Scottish brute she had so aften accused him of being. He did not want to hurt her, he was doing this not for money but because he was being driven by something he believed he had to do. Whatever it was, she could not help but admire him for it.

Constance suddenly became aware of a strange tension crackling in the air between them, a certain awkwardness that had not been there before.

She thought Bane might be feeling it too, because he spoke as though to break it. “Well, have ye?”

“Have I what?” she asked blankly, unable to take her eyes from his.

“Learned yer lesson.”

She nodded. “Yes, I think I definitely have.”

“Grand, because if ye try that again and I’m nae there tae save ye, it’ll be a death sentence. Ye dinnae ken this country, and ye cannae navigate the Lowlands alone, especially nae in this weather.”

“I see you were right about that. I am sorry for being so foolhardy, for putting you in danger like that. I am very grateful that you were there to save me.” She said every word with prefect earnestness.

“Right, let’s get back tae the horses. Ye’ll need tae change intae some dry things again.”

“ I don’t have any dry things. I lost the saddle bag in the river. Everything was in there, all my clothes, jewels, and money are gone,” she explained, almost in tears.

“Ach, Constance!” It was the first time he had called her by her name, and there was something thrilling about it. Then he sighed and added, “Well, no use cryin’ over split milk, I suppose. Ye can have some of me clothes tae tide ye over until we can dry these ones out.”

She frowned. “But what about you? You need to change as well. If you get a chill, we shall be lost. Have you got enough clothes for both of us?”

“Aye, I’m sure we can make dae. And we have the blankets.”

So, they returned to the horses, and Bane doled out his remaining dry clothing from his pack. Constance took shelter behind a tree to change, but this time with no thought in her mind of escape. Of course, his clothes were far too big for her, and she had to make do with her soaking wet boots.

It was only when she emerged and felt for her locket that she realized it was gone. Immediately, she panicked. “Oh no! I must have lost my locket in the river,” she cried in distress, starting to frantically retrace her steps, hunting about on the ground to find it.

“What locket?” he asked.

“It was my mother’s. She died when I was eight, and she left it to me. It is the only thing I have left of her. I never take it off. Oh, what if it came off in the river, Bane? What will I do? I must find it!”

He obviously saw how upset she was because he said in a calm voice, “Well, if ye lost it in the river then I’m afraid ’tis gone fer good. But with a bit of luck, it fell off between here and the riverbank or when ye were gettin’ changed over there. I’ll go and check the path where we came back from the river.” He strode off to the trees, not hesitating to leave her alone. Constance did not even notice, she was so intent on finding it, feverishly searching the area around the tree.

She was in a terrible state by the time he came back, close to tears because she could not find it, thinking it was lost forever. He came up to her and held up his hand. The delicate gold locket was hanging from his finger.

“Oh, thank you, Bane! Thank you,” she cried, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I would never have forgiven myself if I had lost it.”

“Here,” he said, turning her about gently by her shoulder, “I’ll put it on fer ye and make sure ’tis fastened properly.”

Happy to have the precious article back, she docilely stood still while he lifted the locket over her head and lowered it around her neck. She gathered up her hair and lifted it out of his way. It seemed to take forever, his fingers brushing her skin gently as he fiddled with the tiny clasp, sending tiny shivers down her back.

“What’s inside the locket?” he asked.

“A miniature portrait of my mother,” she replied a little unsteadily, for her heart was starting to race.

“Och, it must be nice tae have a picture of her, tae remember her.” Tiny little glancing touches inflamed the skin of the nape of her neck, making her shiver.

“Um, y-yes, it is. That is why it is so precious to me.”

“Aye, I can understand that.” There was a short pause. “I lost both me parents when I was young as well.”

The confession moved her. “I am so sorry, Bane. It seems we have that in common.”

“Aye. Is that a wee birth mark ye have on yer neck there?” he suddenly asked, taking her by surprise. She was rather self-conscious of it, and on instinct, immediately reached up and touched the birthmark, meeting his fingers instead. A jolt went through her, and she snatched her hand away, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment at her reaction.

“Y-yes, it is,” she repeated, struggling to compose herself, her neck tingling from his touch.

“’Tis in the shape of a wee bird,” he said softly, turning her around and tucking the locket inside the collar of her borrowed shirt.

“Yes, so I am told,” she answered, gazing up into his eyes, feeling as though her insides were melting.

“Dinnae loose that locket again, eh? Next time, ye may nae be so lucky,” he remarked.

“It seems I must thank you again, Bane,” she replied gratefully, hoping he did not notice the strange effect he was having on her.

He said nothing to that but broke their gaze and suddenly reverted to his usual gruff self. “Right, time tae be movin’ on,” he said. He draped the blanket around her shoulders again, for which she was also grateful. But her heart sank when she saw the rope in his hands.

“No! I told you, I have learned my lesson. I’ll not try to run again. Please, it is not necessary to tie me,” she said pleadingly.

“I’m sorry, but I cannae quite trust ye,” he said, almost apologetically as he tied her hands again. “I’m takin’ nay chances.” But he did not tie the rope too tightly, so as not to chafe her wrists as before. “The good news is we’re safe tae ride while we’re in the forest. The worst of the rain will have drained away by now, so the trackways should be all right, and there’s hardly any snow under the trees,” he told her.

“Thank goodness,” Constance said, letting him lift her into the saddle in front of him, realizing she was actually quite looking forward to riding with his large, warm body encircling hers. That shocked her to her core, perhaps even more than seeing him half-naked. Once again, she felt her cheeks flushing hotly.

What on earth is happening to me? Whatever it is, I do not understand it at all!