Rose froze again at that, but no one seemed to connect her to the woman who’d been seen with Lady Alice. She and Alice had both tried to keep their faces covered with hats and scarves to mask their identities as much as possible, in case there were anyone watching. Apparently, that had been a good plan.
“She arrived at one of the ships in port,” Lionel continued. “MacGregor boarded the same ship a few hours later, and both were aboard when it set sail. We can only assume the blackguard absconded with the lady.”
Ramsay nodded, a cruel smile on his face. “The MacGregors do have a nasty habit of running off with our fine English ladies.”
Rose bit her cheek to keep her face from showing any emotion. According to William, Ramsay himself was Scottish, for all that he took pains to hide it.
He swallowed down a large gulp of ale and shook his head. “If it had been only MacGregor, we couldn’t have been sure he’d lead us to the bastard we chase. But with the Chivers girl accompanying him that makes it more certain. Her fast friendship with the whore that highwayman stole makes their destination a near certainty. Finally, we’ve got them,” he said with an air of intense satisfaction.
Rose didn’t stay to hear more. She’d heard enough. Ramsay knew Lady Alice was with Philip, and he knew they were going to John and Elizabet. She and William had to warn them.
Now.
Chapter Six
William was kept busy throughout the day as small groups of men filtered in and out of the armory. Some needed repairs, while others needed to be totally outfitted. William had no idea where Ramsay had obtained the means to ensure every one of his men was equipped to fight, but he had. Most of the men had surely come with their own weapons. But there were a large number who seemed little more than farmers. Ramsay must either be paying them well or had some other sway over them. Knowing Ramsay, the bastard had likely recruited most of these men through threats rather than coin.
Still, William did as he was bid and tried to keep his ears open for any useful information. As the day drew on, he found his mind straying more and more to Rose. He’d made excuses several times to run errands that would bring him near to the kitchens so he could check on her. As far as he could tell, she was in no danger. But he didn’t like her out of his sight, and not only because he feared for her. He had no doubt the woman would run if she got half a chance. Especially after what she’d overheard at the midday meal.
When he’d stopped by the kitchens to grab a bite to eat, she’d cornered him, insisting they leave immediately. He pointed out that they were already aware that Ramsay knew about Lady Alice and that he’d already sent a warning to Glenlyon didn’t help. Only the threat of bringing more attention to her and their true reason for being with Ramsay’s men kept Rose from causing a scene. He had to make her see reason and make her understand they wouldn’t be any help to anyone without useful information. They could do more good keeping an eye on Ramsay than if they ran to Glenlyon. Then they’d be as much in the dark as their friends.
Still, by nightfall, he hadn’t learned much more than what he already knew, and his frustration with the situation grew. The men were preparing to leave in the morning. Ramsay hadn’t specified a destination but William already knew where they’d be headed. What he needed to know was specifics on what would happen once they arrived.
Finally, the last man left the armory, and William made his way back to the kitchens.
Rose glanced up as he entered, and the tension he’d carried with him all day eased. She seemed well. Covered in flour and obviously tired and frustrated, but well. She ushered him into a corner by the hearth and handed him a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread and then went back to her duties.
He watched her as she cleaned up the kitchen with the other women. She’d obviously made friends during the day. She laughed easily with them as they chatted. He liked the sound, a throaty chuckle that echoed in his chest and brought a smile to his lips. She met his gaze once and quickly looked away, but not before a becoming blush spread across her cheeks. Interesting. Perhaps she didn’t hate him as much as she let on.
By the time he’d finished eating, she was ready to go.
“Did ye eat, lass?” he asked as she took his bowl.
She nodded. “I had something earlier.”
He stood, much closer to her than necessary, judging by the surprised look she gave him. But they were supposed to be lovers, after all. A story that would never work if she jerked away from him every time he tried to touch her.
He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned closer, his lips brushing against her cheek. Her body stiffened against his before melting into him. Good. They needed to maintain their ruse. His instant response to her soft body pressed against his was only natural. She was an attractive woman and he was a man who had been alone for far too long. Nothing more. It had nothing to do with the slightly floral scent that was uniquely hers that seemed to intoxicate him. He drew her closer to him only because their audience would expect such behavior. Not because his arms ached to wrap around her every time he was within a few feet of her. His interest in her was only in how she could further his mission. Nothing more.
She rubbed her cheek against his, and he closed his eyes, biting back a groan. And reminded himself again of his mission. And their motives. She didn’t mean her actions as anything other than a deception and responding to them like they were anything more would be a mistake. A dangerous one.
He glanced at the other women who smirked knowingly in their direction but left them be.
“Did ye hear anything interesting today?” he murmured in her ear, forcing himself to concentrate on the matter at hand and not on the nearly overwhelming urge to tilt her face up so he could claim those full, pouty lips.
She gave him a quick nod. “When we’re alone,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
He kept her elbow in his hand as he led her out of the kitchens. Then he wrapped his arm about her, pulling her close. She started to push away from him until they passed one of the men who’d leered at her before. She glared at him and sank back against William. William kept them moving but rested his other hand on the hilt of his sword. The man scowled, but turned away, obviously receiving the message. Rose stayed tucked against William’s side until they made it to his quarters.
She moved away the moment they were safely inside, and he shoved aside the inexplicable disappointment. She wasn’t really his. In fact, she was the embodiment of possibly the worst mistake he’d ever made. The sooner they parted ways the better. He had no business wanting to be near her.
“Did ye discover anything useful today?” he asked, keeping his attention on anything but her.
A faint frown creased her brow, and she sank onto the stool by the small fire he had going in the ruined hearth. “The man called Lionel…”
William nodded so she continued. “He saw me—a maid, he said—with Lady Alice on the docks. But neither he nor any of the other men have shown any sign that they know it was me,” she said quickly before William could react.
“Good. That’s good.”
“Yes, it’s good they didn’t recognize me but not that they had men watching Lady Alice’s home. And they were watching your kinsman as well. Did you know that?”
He sighed and rubbed his face. “No. I suspected as much, but no. I wasna privy to that information, and that concerns me.”
It concerned him a great deal. Not that there had been men watching. They’d assumed as much, even if they’d hoped otherwise. And there was naught to do about it now. But the fact that men had been set to watch and William hadn’t been told about it was troubling. The whole reason he was with Ramsay was to spy. To ingratiate himself with the enemy and earn a position of importance so he would be privy to such plans. He didn’t appear to be doing a good job. He’d never forgive himself if some lack on his part resulted in harm coming to his kinsmen.
Rose’s brow was furrowed and he waved it off, trying to set her mind at ea
se. “Let’s not worry about that now. As long as they dinna recognize ye, we should be safe.”
She didn’t look like she totally agreed, but she nodded.
“Did you hear anything else useful?”
“I don’t know if it’s useful or not, but interesting, at least.”
“What is?”
“They kept me baking all day, long past the time I’d expected to be released.”
“That’s no’ so unusual when there’s a large group of men to feed, is it?”
“Perhaps not. But these weren’t the larger loaves of bread I’d expect to make for a…household such as this. But smaller loaves and cakes.”
“Travel rations,” William said, and Rose nodded.
“I believe so. And small groups of men kept stopping in all day. Again, not unusual for men to steal through the kitchen throughout the day, looking for a bite to eat. But these were more organized groups. It happened three or four times. And they weren’t stealing a cake here or there. Mrs. Bradshaw, the head cook, was handing each a small parcel.”
William sat on the other chair with a sigh. “Aye, that fits with what I saw in the armory today. Small groups of men coming by here and there between the regular visits I’d expect for repairs and new weapons.”
“Is it important, do you think?”
William shrugged. “Maybe so, maybe no. It’s no secret we are marching out at dawn tomorrow. The men will need food and supplies.”
“Well, yes, but wouldn’t they get those things anyway when we stopped to camp for the night?”
“Aye,” he said with a frown. Finally, he shook his head. “There’s naught we can do about it tonight. Let’s get some rest. We leave early in the morning, and we’ll need our wits about us.”
They bedded down for the night, with Rose taking William’s cot while he again guarded the door.
Rose settled into his blankets with a sigh. A few moments later she loosed a mumbled curse, and William chuckled under his breath.
“How did you take it this time?” she asked, having obviously realized her dagger was no longer in her pocket.
“I’ll give it back to ye in the morning.”
“If you are going to give it back to me anyway, what’s the harm in letting me have it now?”
“I’m about to rest my tired head. The last thing I wish is to awake with yer wee blade at my throat. Now go to sleep.”
She muttered again, something about damn Scots and other surely shocking things, before she finally settled down. He quietly laughed again and lay down. She might be the biggest pain in the arse he’d ever been saddled with, but at least she kept things amusing.
…
The first day of traveling had Rose so bone-weary by the end of the day she’d have happily slept in a pigsty. So, when they came upon an isolated farmstead, warm light glowing from the windows, she greeted the sight with delight. Perhaps they’d get a decent night’s sleep after all, if the owner was amenable to being hospitable.
She frowned when William cursed under his breath.
“What’s wrong? Afraid the owners won’t have room for everyone and you’ll have to sleep out in the cold again?” she teased.
But William didn’t smile. His mouth hardened. “I’m afraid they willna be given the choice.”
All amusement drained from Rose, replaced by a crushing dread. Oh, dear heavens. He wouldn’t…
Before she could even finish the thought, Ramsay was motioning several of his men forward, including William. Rose opened her mouth, but William flashed her a look that commanded silence and she snapped it closed again, for once not hesitating to obey. The look on his face brooked no argument. His features were hard, determined. And terrifying. Yet somehow, she didn’t fear him. And she couldn’t imagine him actually hurting the people inside that farmhouse.
She held back with the other women, her hands clenching into fists when the screams started. It was over within minutes. Some of the other men exited the house, laughing and congratulating one another on a job well done. Rose swallowed convulsively against the bile rising in her throat.
Her eyes scanned the group for William, but he wasn’t among them. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest. Where was he?
The rest of the group moved forward, taking over the farmstead. The women were sent into the kitchen to prepare food. Rose tried not to see the wreckage of the house. Though there was actually less damage than she’d have imagined. The poor people who lived here must not have been able to put up much of a fight. The absence of blood soothed her somewhat. But she still hadn’t seen Will.
She finally got up the courage to ask one of the men if he’d seen him.
He snorted. “Butler’s the one who did in the ol’ biddy what lived here. So, we told ’im it were his job to get rid of ’er. ’Es probably still out back buryin’ ’er.”
The blood drained from Rose’s face so quickly the room spun. She forced herself to nod at the man and then excused herself. She needed some air. And she needed to find Will.
She’d taken only a few steps outside when he rounded the corner of the barn. She stood stock-still, letting him come to her. Part of her wanted to scream, hit him, berate him for the vile thing he’d just done. And she would have. If she could fully believe it. But she couldn’t. No matter what she’d been told, she couldn’t believe he’d do something so horrible.
When he saw her, he hastened his pace, reaching her in a few long strides. He stopped a few inches from her, gripping her arms tight.
“Rose. Are ye well, lass? What’s the matter?”
“You didn’t…tell me you didn’t…”
He shook his head and glanced around, making sure they were alone. Then he leaned in and spoke so quietly none would hear but she if there were anyone lurking about. “The house was inhabited only by an old widow. I did hit her—”
Rose jerked in his arms, and he tightened his grip. “That bastard Gerard was about to run her through with his sword. I did what I had to. But I swear to ye, I was as soft as I could be. When she fell I leaned over to grab her and told her to play dead and carried her outside.”
Some of the tension in Rose dissipated, but her gaze darted about the yard, looking for some sign of the woman. All she saw was a faint mound of dirt under a tree near the backside of the barn.
“Then where is she?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
“I gave her some money and directions to Glenlyon, along with a message for Malcolm. She’ll be well looked after there.”
Rose sagged into William’s arms, relief flooding her. “I knew you were a good man,” she murmured.
William chuckled. “I wouldna go that far, but I do try to make my mam proud.”
She buried her face against his chest and breathed deep. A fine tremor ran through her body, and he pulled her closer.
“Hey, lass. Dinna fash now. I’m here.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Though I didna think ye cared so much,” he said, his voice thick with amusement.
She laughed, though the sound was shaky. “Let’s just say, it’s been a very long night.”
“Aye. That it has. Let’s get some sleep, shall we?”
She pulled back from him a little. “I’m supposed to be helping in the kitchens.”
He shrugged. “And I’m supposed to be burying an old woman in the woods.”
That startled another laugh out of her, and he grinned. “Come then, lass. I dinna think anyone will be looking for us tonight.”
He took her hand and led her toward a small building near the barn. Judging by the smell the place was likely used as a smoke shed, but Rose didn’t care. It was warm and quiet. And with Will at her side, it was safe. And for the first time, she didn’t shrink from him when he lay by her side.
She couldn’t guarantee she would feel the same the next time he slept beside her. But for that night, she welcomed his arms around her.
They left early the next morning and continued traveling north
. They thankfully didn’t come upon any other remote farms. In fact, nothing noteworthy happened. The days blended into one another. But the nights were another matter entirely.
Chapter Seven
The next two weeks were spent traveling at a snail’s pace across England and into Scotland with Ramsay and his men. William sent off two more messengers to Glenlyon, letting their friends know of Ramsay’s movements and location as best as they could. Still, Rose’s trepidation grew the farther into Scottish territory they traveled. As did her homesickness. She’d traveled with her lady, of course. But they’d always traveled with their household between the Chivers’ estates. Rose had never been so far from home before. And never with the possibility she might not return.
The land grew wilder, and, while it was far more beautiful than she’d ever expected, it was also very remote. There were large cities, of course, but none so grand as London, she was sure. But Ramsay kept his men to the woodlands and back trails so as to avoid the attention of any other travelers. Which meant when night fell, they slept in the heather instead of in a nice, warm bed. But Rose preferred that, uncomfortable as it was, to raiding another farm. She both looked forward to the night and dreaded it. It was good to stop walking and be able to rest. Of course, she must help prepare meals and ensure Ramsay had everything he needed before she could go to her bed, such as it was. But it was heavenly to lie back and close her eyes.
Or it would have been. Except for William, who still insisted on sharing her sleeping space. She understood the need for it. It both kept up appearances that she was his woman and allowed him to protect her throughout the night. But she’d never slept with a man before. And certainly not one as…appealing as William. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
The first night after leaving the farm, when he’d joined her in her bedroll and wrapped his arms about her, she’d lain so stiffly that he’d finally leaned over and pressed featherlight kisses up her neck. She squirmed, but he held her fast.
How to Forgive a Highlander (MacGregor Lairds) Page 6