by Eliza Knight
So to think that this woman, who faced down dragoons and other demons, might need him—the thought had desire flooding his veins.
“Aye, J.” Dirk’s voice was tight. He didn’t agree, but he didn’t seem about to argue with her either.
Toran respected that about Dirk. The man clearly had opinions, but he was loyal to Jenny and willing to do her bidding.
Jenny turned to stare at him, waiting for his response. There was only one response Toran could give her. Only one he wanted to give her.
“Aye, Mistress J. I am but your servant.”
Jenny gave a quick shake of her head. “Ye are no’ just my servant, Fraser. Ye’re a soldier and a Jacobite.”
“Aye.” He grinned, wanting to stalk across the room and bend her over his arm as he kissed the tartness from her tone.
“I will leave it up to the two of ye to decide who else comes with us. I want the party to remain small, like our nightly hunts. We’ll also need to arrange for a new hiding place for our supplies. We canna risk a raid while we’re away. We were lucky once that Boyd was afraid of the measles, but he’ll be back soon enough, and he willna be stopped.”
“When do ye propose we leave?” Toran asked.
“I want to leave in two days’ time. I dinna want us racing across the moors and catching the notice of English scouts. I also dinna mind if we arrive a few days afore the proposed date to throw the dragoons off. If everyone arrives on the same date at the proper time, without the French troops to back us up, we may have a battle on our hands that we canna handle.”
“Is there anything ye canna handle?” Toran forced himself not to wink at her.
Dirk made a gurgling noise of disgust, but Jenny swung her gaze to meet his, a brow raised. “No’ that I’ve come across yet,” she said. “Is that a challenge, sir? Would ye care to take it to the field or the board again? I daresay, if put to the test, I’m strong enough to sling wool too.”
“I have no doubt that ye can.” He grinned at her. “And this is why I’d follow ye to the ends of the earth if ye asked me to.”
She stared at him, clear contemplation in her gaze, and he waited for her to completely rip his heart out. When she lifted her chin, staring down her nose at him, he imagined how her retort would cut. How he’d bleed slowly to death but no one would see it.
“I dinna require ye to follow me to the ends of the earth, Fraser. All that I ask is that ye remain loyal to your rightful king, that ye do your best to protect our people, and that ye kick Sassenach arse on the battlefield.”
Toran placed his hand over his heart. “I swear to ye now that I can and will do all of those things.”
“Good.” Despite her formality, there was a flash of longing in her eyes that he did not miss, just before she turned her back and dismissed them both.
* * *
Two days later, in the dead of night, Jenny mounted her horse in the same way she’d done at least a hundred times before over the past couple of years. Only this time, she was going to finally meet Prince Charles and pledge her fealty in person.
Armed to the teeth and with enough provisions to last them the journey, she, Dirk, John, Toran, and Archie were ready to depart. They’d left Mac in charge of the forces at the castle to protect those within. They’d already overseen the hiding of their treasure. Jenny had wished her mother a good night, hugged Isla, and watched Toran shake his younger brother’s hand. Camdyn looked up at him with such admiration, it was truly touching.
“Pray we dinna come across any redcoats this time,” she said, making the sign of the cross over her chest. It would be a miracle if they didn’t. The entire country was swarming with dragoons, especially now that Prince Charles had landed.
His initial arrival had been kept secret, but a secret that big had a way of finding its way out. And Jenny had received several warnings the day before that there were whispers of the bonnie prince having landed near Eriskay and then taken his French ship up the coast to Kinlochmoidart. A check with Fiona had shown those rumors to be fact.
She glanced to her right at Dirk, who gave her a curt nod. His lips were pinched in the torchlight, brows drawn together. Though he supported her, he still believed the risks of this journey were too great. She understood his reservations. There was a part of her that would rather have remained behind, reading Gulliver’s Travels, but there was a reason she loved that book so much, and the adventure was part of it. She had a duty to her clan and a mission to carry out.
John and Archie nodded at her, their expressions controlled, though she sensed in both their gazes a light of excitement. At last, she turned to face Toran.
The intensity of his gaze was enough to knock her off her horse, but she held herself tightly in place.
What he’d said to her in the study still struck strong, and she wasn’t certain how to decipher it. The feelings he brought out in her were too intense. She drew in a steadying breath, which did little to calm the racing of her heart. Not even looking away helped. She could still see him in her mind’s eye, feel the intensity of his gaze on the side of her face.
They rode with her at the fore, centered between Dirk and Toran, with John and Archie at their backs.
Through the gate and onto the road they went, several of their guards having gone out the hour before to scout the roads and make certain no lingering dragoons were watching Cnàmhan Broch.
Only two had been found, and so the rebels avoided their path. Certainly Dirk and Toran would have liked to dispose of the redcoats, but that was something Jenny wasn’t willing to risk. Dead or missing dragoons on Mackintosh lands would just be asking for another visit from Boyd.
They walked their horses at a reasonable pace for about an hour before breaking out into a gallop to avoid the rumbling of the earth that would alert any hiding Sassenachs of their journey.
Several hours passed before they took their first break to rest and water the horses and get a reprieve themselves. They were silent as they went, each of them moving in a pattern they all knew well.
A half hour later, they were on the road again. When the sun rose, they continued on, staying off the roads as much as possible so as not to be noticed.
By midday, Jenny’s eyes were heavy, her body exhausted, but still she clung to the reins and tried to keep upright. She’d barely slept in weeks, and the rush of excitement had left her body feeling depleted of whatever energy remained. The men, too, seemed to be dragging. She’d hoped they could make it to sunset and then rest for the night. But it was summer, and the sun was not due to set for hours yet. At this time of year, daylight could remain until nearly nine o’clock.
Maybe she could try to push it for another hour.
But even as she thought that, she felt herself sliding on her saddle. With a curse she righted herself, angry at the weakness her body was showing. She was the leader of rebels on her way to meet the future King of Scotland, and she couldn’t even keep her seat.
“We should stop,” Toran said, the first words he’d spoken in hours.
Jenny’s back snapped straight, stubborn irritation lancing through her. “Not yet,” she said.
He didn’t answer, and when she turned to look at him, he only gave a short nod. But she could see what he was thinking in his gaze. Blast the man for seeming to be able to see right through her.
A quarter of an hour later, as they passed through a denser part of the forest, she slowed her horse and veered further off the road.
“This should keep us hidden.”
The men murmured their agreement, dismounting to take care of the horses. She did the same, her eyes drooping as she wiped down her mount’s flanks. She fed him an apple from her satchel and then tied him loosely to a tree so he wouldn’t wander off. That done, she sank to the ground and leaned against a tree, every muscle in her body aching. She worked to stretch out her muscles, feeling the tingly sting o
f the knots slowly starting to loosen.
“I’ll take first watch,” she said.
“I’d be honored if ye’d allow me to do it, Mistress J,” John said.
Her eyes fell closed as she nodded and murmured her agreement, grateful that he’d stepped in.
When she woke hours later, it was the dead of night, and she felt much refreshed. She glanced around their makeshift camp, making out three lumps on the ground, her men sleeping. And a single figure leaning against a tree. From the shape of his long, muscular body, the way he held himself, she knew right away who it was. Toran.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said with a little chuckle. “Ye snored loud enough to lead every redcoat within a mile to our location.”
Jenny rolled her eyes, stretched out the kinks in her body, and then stood to walk over to him, feeling a slight twinge in her bottom from where she must have put most of her weight while sleeping.
“I dinna snore.”
“I thought about smothering ye but figured ye’d not appreciate my efforts at keeping dragoons at bay.” Though she couldn’t see him, she could picture the teasing smirk, the way his eyes would twinkle.
“My da told me about one of the men in their caravan during the first uprising who snored so hard it used to rattle the leaves from the trees. By morning, he’d be covered in a natural blanket.”
Toran chuckled. “Did they smother him?”
“Nay, for his noise was enough to keep even the dragoons away. They feared there was a rare boar in the forest.”
Toran laughed again. “Well, ’tis a good thing I was only teasing.”
“I dinna snore,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Och, nay, no’ that. Ye snore like a prize champion, Mistress. I only meant I would never smother ye.”
“Well, I suppose I should be grateful for that.” She softly punched his shoulder. “I might not be so kind. Let’s find out. I’ll take watch while ye sleep.”
Toran spun slowly from his spot, his hands grasping her hips as he framed her body with his, the tree at her spine. She inhaled sharply, surprised at the sudden movement and very, very interested. Every inch of her skin lurched, reaching for him, wanting to feel the hot press of his body against hers, his mouth capturing her lips.
He stared at her a long time, his face covered in nighttime shadows and the pools of his eyes reflecting the barest of light from the stars. It made his gaze glisten and sparkle. They remained still, chests heaving, eyes locked, and she waited for him to kiss her. But still he didn’t move, just kept his hard, heated body pressed so intimately to hers. And when he finally did move, it was to step away.
Toran raked his hand through his hair, as dark as the midnight sky. “I’ve seen no one come this way since my watch. John saw a few people, but they looked like harmless Scots. Merchants or farmers, wandering home from a market or some such.”
Cool night air replaced where the heat of his body had warmed her, and she had to clench her hands into fists at her sides to force herself not to reach for him and tug him back. She felt the loss of him keenly, the tease of him being so close.
She wanted him, and he knew she wanted him, but he wasn’t going to make the first move. The man was going to let her make the next move.
But taking any further steps was terrifying in so many ways. They had a mission. They had a country to recapture in the name of their people. A new sovereign to support. Dragoons who wanted them dead. Every time she convinced herself that being with Toran would be all right, her duties surfaced to squash any such hopes. Every time, she had a cruel reminder that she couldn’t have what most other women wanted—or already had. She couldn’t have a man to herself, love, a family.
This war was her love, this country her husband, and her family were her men and every other rebel fighting for freedom. When a man was laird, he had a wife to breed, and he could go about his duties, protecting his line. But Jenny…she was certain that she wouldn’t be able to rule without fear that her husband would try to take her place.
So she didn’t say anything, only watched him put distance between them. Five feet. Ten. Knew he was waiting for her to call him back. Felt the slump of his shoulders in her heart rather than seeing him in the dark. And her soul matched that disappointment.
With a great sigh, she worked to focus her attention on their surroundings and not twenty feet in front of her where Toran sat with his back against a tree, masculine even in sleep.
Jenny stared at the trees, their black sharp angles swaying in the breeze. Shadows danced, and as hard as she focused, the dark shadows always formed into menacing shapes that left her nerves rattled. Every bounce of darkness was Boyd, every low skulking shadow a wolf ready to pounce.
She forced herself to breathe deeply, to shove aside all the night terrors of her imagination.
The truth was no one knew they were here. They’d not been followed, else they would have been attacked by now. While prowling outlaws and devilish redcoats might be skulking about, it was doubtful they’d run into them now. Even if a patrol passed on the road just beyond their camp, they wouldn’t see them. The horses slept quietly, and the men didn’t snore, sleeping too lightly to make any noise.
Jenny leaned against the tree that Toran had vacated and started ticking off the mental list she’d made of their journey and how she’d present herself and her men to Prince Charles.
As the hours passed, her confidence grew. And when the darkest of twilight melted into a predawn gray haze, the men started to stir, each of them slowly waking and taking care of his business some distance away.
When they returned to camp, she reported that nothing had occurred and then went to make use of a bush herself before they took off again.
Toran was watching her with clear interest in his eyes when she returned, a subtle curl to his lips that made her palms sweaty.
Unbidden, a thought went through her head that had her blushing. When this war is over, oh the things I’ll do with him…
Eighteen
They made it halfway through the day before they spied any flashes of red in the forest. Jenny caught sight of them first, but perhaps only a half second before Toran was reaching for her reins and they all stopped short.
Without any sightings in hours, they’d gone onto the road to ride harder. And that was when the flash of red was visible through the trees where the road curved sharply to the right.
“Ballocks,” Dirk cursed under his breath.
The redcoats did not seem to have noticed them yet, but it would only be a matter of seconds before they rounded the curve and saw them in the center of the dirt-packed path or heard them clomping through the forest.
Jenny was dressed in her rebel garb, easier for riding, and they were all fully armed and bedraggled looking after nearly two days on the road. Whatever lie they were to come up with would be questioned, as the five of them looked every bit up to the mischief the dragoons would assume they were getting into. And they’d be right.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Jenny hefted a leg over the side of her horse and flung herself facedown across Toran’s lap. “I’m your wee brother and ye’re taking me home after finding me out carousing with my pals. These are your cousins, and our ma is really worried about me after I got stuck in the wrong crowd.”
“What the bloody—” Toran started to say.
But there was no time to talk. The dragoons rounded the bend and caught sight of the group, pulling up short, shouting and reaching for their weapons.
“Ho, there!” they called. “Halt.”
“Ye heard her?” Toran asked softly of the men, and they grunted in affirmation.
They did not halt, their horses moving slowly down the road.
“I said stop right there,” came the shout of a man, his English accent full of misplaced authority. Not Boyd, thankfully.
Toran’s horse stilled. “We aim to cause no trouble,” Toran called out in a meeker voice than she’d ever heard him use before.
“We’ll be the judge of that,” answered the dragoon. “What are ye doing out here?”
Toran slapped Jenny hard on the rear, and she gritted her teeth. “My wee brother got into a bit of trouble with some lads. Seems to have drunk himself into a deep sleep, that is when he’s not retching his guts out.”
There were a few grumbles and something she took to be an insult given Toran’s stiffening tension beneath her.
“My cousins helped me fetch him back, and we’re headed home. My mother is quite beside herself,” Toran said, sounding quite believable.
“Beside herself for raising such a foolish no-good troublemaker. Let us take him off your hands and teach him a thing or two about respecting one’s mother.” The dragoon’s laughing comment was made with a cruel edge that had Jenny’s blood running cold. Was it possible this man was worse than Boyd?
Toran let out a strained laugh. “I thank ye for the offer, but I assure ye, he’s needed at home and already likely to get the belt when he gets there.”
The redcoats snickered. “I’ve a better idea. Let us give him the belt now, and then we’ll let ye be on your way. The last thing we need is a bunch of wayward drunken Scots cavorting about our countryside.”
Her countryside! She wanted to shout and rave at them but kept her teeth firmly clenched against each other, else she give them all away.
Toran let out a laugh. “I think my ma deserves first crack.”
“I think your ma deserves a cock in her arse,” growled a dragoon, which only had Toran stiffening even more beneath her.