Page 12 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire (Kilted Kisses #2)

CHAPTER TWELVE

G race woke the next morning to find the fire blazing merrily, and Ewan on the other side of it, his hands busy as he butchered a rabbit. For a moment, she wondered when and where he’d caught it, then she remembered the snare he’d said he’d set. She sat up, grimacing slightly. She could feel sore spots from sleeping on the rough ground, and her body felt stiff.

She had learned, however, that the best way to ease the stiffness was to rise and begin moving. With difficulty, she pushed herself to her feet and stretched, glad that her braid was still intact and her hair hadn’t become an unruly nest again. Her eyes felt heavy with sleep, and she rubbed them.

“There’s a stream, nae more than a hundred or so paces in that direction, if ye want tae wash up and clear the sleep from yer head. ‘Tis frigid enough tae wake the dead though, so fair warnin’ tae ye.” Ewan’s quiet voice startled her. He usually didn’t speak much in the mornings.

She walked in the direction he had pointed, and found the stream easily enough. There was a small path of broken branches to mark his passing, and that made it easier. The water was cold enough to make her shiver and gasp, but it was refreshing and woke her completely. She washed her face and hands, dried them on her skirt, and returned to camp.

She found Ewan wrapping meat in fresh green leaves and setting it close to the edge of the fire. “What are ye doing?”

“Roastin’ the meat. Some o’ it we’ll eat for breakfast. Some o’ it we’ll eat on the road later.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Usually, I’d make a stew with the rabbit an’ some oat cake tae thicken it, an’ whatever herbs I can find, but then we’d be half the day afore we began.” He paused. “O’ course, if ye’d prefer that…”

“No. I would far rather reach Niamh as soon as possible.” Grace shook her head. “Should we gather our things while the meat roasts?”

Ewan hesitated, then nodded. “Aye. An’ refill the water skins.”

Together, they shook out the blankets, brushed the horses, saddled and bridled the animals, loaded up the pack horses, and took care of the other tasks that needed doing. Grace did her best to help, but Ewan still did the larger portion of the work.

Several times, she thought she caught Ewan gazing at her, but as soon as she tried to meet his eyes, he would look away. It was a small thing, but it made her that much more aware of Ewan, and it confused her.

It felt as if he was also treating her differently. With more respect, perhaps, or more consideration. The differences were subtle, but she felt them keenly. They mirrored her own sense that Ewan was not the man she had thought he was.

Her first impression of Ewan had been of a man who was a gruff, sullen warrior, who cared only for fulfilling a duty - and an unwelcome one at that. But she’d come to see a different side of him - kind, gentle, patient. He might be taciturn, but he was not as cold and unfeeling, or even as rude as she had first assumed him to be.

Her mind went back to the story he’d told the night before. He’d told it quietly and calmly, but she’d heard the notes of pain in his voice, and the grief that he carefully controlled. He’d spoken of how the loss of his father and his brother’s betrothed had affected his brother, but she had been able to tell from the tone of his voice that he grieved as well.

She knew grief, and she knew what it was like to lose a father. She’d never thought they’d have such a thing in common, and it made her feel closer to Ewan.

The more she learned about the dour Scotsman Niamh, or rather her husband, had chosen as her escort, the more she found herself admiring him. She was even beginning, however reluctantly, to enjoy his company.

And, unless she was greatly mistaken, it seemed as if he might feel the same way.

She’d said the previous night that she wouldn’t fall in love with him, and she was certain that was the truth, but she couldn’t help feeling that she might be able to become friends with him.

“Somethin’ on yer mind?” Ewan’s question startled her so much that she jumped and nearly spilled her water skin.

“I was just wondering if where we currently were.” She wasn’t about to admit where her thoughts had truly wandered.

“Och. Highlands. I thought I said so yesterday.”

Grace blushed. “You did, however, I wanted to be sure. And you said we are within a seven-day of your home?”

“Aye.” Ewan nodded. “So long as the weather holds good and clear.”

By the time they finished loading the horses, the rabbit was done. To Grace’s surprise, it was far more tender and flavorful than she’d expected. She blinked at the small green shreds in on the rabbit. “What is this?”

“First spring onions, an a bit o’ water cress. Ye can find it in the rivers.”

“It is tasty. Is all Scottish food like this?”

Ewan actually smiled. “Scottish food is what each clan an’ each man or woman makes o’ it. I’ve kent men who never make more than charred bannock an’ charred meat on a stick when they cook over a fire. An’ men who can make a full feast with nay more than what they scrounge up in half a candle-mark.”

Grace smiled. “You seem to do well enough.”

“Thank ye.”

They finished the meal and washed up, and began the day’s travel. Grace found herself watching Ewan as he rode, admiring the smooth movement of his muscles and the easy way he sat on his horse. She was a fair rider, but Ewan rode as if he had been born in the saddle. He had an easy way of handling himself and the horse that made it seem as if he’d been riding all his life.

They spent the day following the narrow trail until it reached a wider track, and then a rough-hewn road. They stopped for lunch at a tavern, and for the night at a small inn, then woke to repeat the pattern the next day, and the day following that.

Grace tried to keep her thoughts on Niamh, and what she would say once she saw her friend. Then she tried to think of what her uncle would be doing now. Would he have sent out searchers? Did he believe the letter she’d written, or were there Lancaster men even now searching the surrounding countryside for her?

But thinking of Lancaster soldiers only brought her thoughts back to Ewan, and her certainty that he would easily overpower her uncle’s men - though she doubted they would venture so far into Scottish lands to look for her. Her uncle would never think that she would go directly into enemy territory, much less travel so far into such a dangerous place.

Their fourth day took them through a moderately sized village. The houses were stone, and there were an inn and tavern with two floors. Ewan shrugged. “Tradin’ hub between clans. ‘Tis one o’ the neutral villages. We’re only a day or two from Castle MacDuff.”

Grace followed him to the stable and the two of them dismounted. Ewan handed the stable lad the reins and a few coins, then led her toward the door. They were halfway there when someone shouted. “Och, look out!”

Grace started to turn. She caught a glimpse of horses, heard a high-pitched whinny, saw the horses lunge forward…

Ewan caught her and dragged her hard against the building, protecting her with his body as the cart thundered past. Grace heard Ewan grunt as the back corner clipped his shoulder and shoved him closer to her. Then the cart was gone, with several men hurrying after it.

Slowly, Ewan straightened. “Och… must have been a sharp stone. Or a bitin’ fly. Or a thistle blown under the bridle.”

Grace didn’t care what had caused the horse to bolt. She was looking at the way Ewan straightened. His back and shoulders were stiff, and his expression was tight in a way she’d last seen after the fight with the bandits. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll live.” His gaze sharpened. “Ye’re hurt.”

His thumb touched her cheek, light as a butterfly’s wing, and it was then that she felt a sharp stinging across her cheekbone, half an inch below her eye. “I’ll get the salve fer ye.”

“Only if you agree to permit me to determine if you have any wounds that need tending.” Grace frowned at him. “You were hit by the cart.”

Ewan grimaced. “Och, I’m well aware o’ that. I’m nae prideful enough tae pretend it didnae clip me shoulder. An’ it feels like it might have tak’n the hide off my back. It’s sure tae bruise as well.”

The two of them retraced their steps to the stable, where Ewan sent the boy to get his pack, and then collected the salve. He dipped his finger into the ointment and swiped it across her cheek. The cool sting settled in and alleviated the sharp burn of pain. Ewan hesitated, then handed her the salve. He unlaced his vest, then tugged off his sash, vest and the sleeve of his shirt. “How bad is it?”

Grace winced. “It is… you are likely to be very uncomfortable for a time.”

Ewan’s left shoulder was already red, darkening to the dark blue-black of bruising. Across that surface, there were half-a-dozen cuts. Most of them were minor, but two of them were deep and bleeding, the slow red drops trailing down the tanned and toned skin of his back. Grace swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as she studied the muscles as they shifted.

“I need some cloth to stop the bleeding.”

Ewan grunted and handed her a cloth from somewhere, and his water skin. Grace tipped some water onto the cloth, and began to carefully clean his shoulder. Once the bleeding had stopped, she applied the salve in a thin, even layer. “I have no idea how to bandage this.”

“Ye dinnae need tae. With the salve, ‘twill be enough. Me shirt and vest will keep the dirt out o’ the wound til it heals.” Ewan shrugged his way back into his clothing.

He tucked the salve into his belt pouch, and the two of them returned to the street. After a careful look to ensure there were no more carts, they made their way to the tavern. Inside, Ewan directed Grace to a table, while he went to the bar to request two plates and a tankard for himself and a glass of cider for her.

Ewan had just settled at the table when a slender young man walked to the table and dipped his head. “M’laird Ewan?”

Ewan turned. “Aye?”

The young man bowed. “Master Devlin told me tae be waitin’ fer ye, me laird. Said ye’d come by this road, or back tae Castle MacDuff an’ I was tae watch fer ye. I’ve a message.”

Ewan’s whole demeanor changed. His shoulders stiffened, and any trace of levity or relaxation vanished from his face. “Aye?”

The young man nodded. “Aye. Two villages were burned, near the holdin’s o’ Master MacGavin an’ Master Aster. They’re thinkin’ ‘twas… well, Master Devlin didnae say. But he says ye need tae come home with all speed.”

Ewan swore.

He’d known there was a chance that something might happen, especially after Devlin’s first message had reached him. He’d hoped the issue of Gael MacTavish would wait until he returned, but he didn’t think that Devlin would have sent a messenger to seek him on the road if the fires had been caused by storms or bandits.

He hadn’t intended on taking Grace anywhere near MacTavish lands. He’d told the council he was seeking an alliance with Laird Cameron and that perhaps he would also be looking to court the daughter of a Lowland laird, upon suggestion of his sister-in-law. It was an excuse to stay away for a month without raising too much suspicion or discontent. Thus, if he turned up with a young woman riding beside him, they would assume a certain kind of alliance had been formed, that he’d chosen a bride as well as an alliance with Laird Cameron.

He’d never told Grace that his clan expected him to have a potential betrothal partner with him when he returned. And he’d never told his advisor Devlin or the rest of Clan MacTavish’s Council of Elders that the lass he would be returning with was English.

His original plan had been to take Grace to Castle MacDuff and leave her with Niamh, before returning to MacTavish Keep and the matter of Gael MacTavish. But the fires changed everything. If they were the result of bandits, then he had to be there to lead the troops in smoking them out and driving them beyond the borders of their lands.

If they were, in fact, the work of Gael MacTavish, then his presence was even more critical. The purpose of the fires would be to discredit him as an absent laird, and a weak man. When it was added to the fact that Gael supposedly had a family, then the would-be laird had a clear advantage.

The only way he could defend his position as the provisional Laird MacTavish, the Overseer, let alone hope to potentially become a laird in his own right, was to return to his own lands with all speed, and with Grace Lancaster by his side.

And even then, it was likely to be a difficult homecoming.

“Ewan?” A hand touched his arm, and he jolted out of his thoughts to find Grace and the messenger boy staring at him.

“I’ve the message, lad. Get some rest and food. We’ll ride for MacTavish Keep as soon as we’ve eaten.”

Grace startled. “But… I thought Niamh was at MacDuff Castle.”

“She is, an’ I’ll see ye safely there as soon as I can. But two fires on me lands is a problem I must see tae, without delay.”

An’ if I show up at the keep alone, then there will be too many questions I cannae answer.

“Your lands?”

“I oversee the lands o’ Clan MacTavish fer me braither. The laird passed away, an’ I’m the Overseer until a new laird is chosen at the Highland Gathering.” He considered stopping there, but Grace needed to know what else was at stake. “Me braither conquered the previous laird, so as his younger braither, I have the chance tae become Laird MacTavish, an’ bring the clan under our own as a cadet clan.”

“I… is this a common practice in the Highlands?” Grace sounded confused.

“Only if the laird dies with nae heirs, an’ if another laird defeats him in battle, an’ the battle is part o’ a feud or other conflict, instead o’ bein’ an unwarranted attack.”

“That sounds very complicated.” Grace frowned.

“I ken. But tis what it is. An nae matter who becomes the next laird, I’m responsible for the lands until then. If there’s someone settin’ fires, then I need tae be present tae help end it.”

“Of course. I would expect nothing less.” Grace nodded.

Some of his startlement must have shown on his face, because she smiled. “I may only be a lady, but I do understand the responsibilities of a lord to his people. I want to see Niamh as soon as possible, but I’m certain she will understand the need for the delay as well as I do. And I trust you when you say that you will see me to my friend’s side as soon as possible.”

Ewan nodded. He was grateful for Grace’s understanding. “I’ll send the messenger lad with word tae Niamh an’ Alistair as soon as we’re done eating. If we ride hard, we can reach MacTavish Keep by nightfall, or shortly after.”

An I wonder, lass, if ye’ll be as understanding when ye ken everything me folk expect o’ me… and what they’re likely tae expect o’ ye as well. Especially after how angered ye were when I introduced ye as me lady tae the farmer without yer consent, and ye told me why it upset ye so much…