Ann Lethbridge

by Her Highland Protector

  She nodded. ‘When do we go?’

  ‘When it is fully dark.’

  ‘Then there is nothing to do but wait.’

  ‘Aye.’ He stretched out on the sandy floor and she dropped down beside him. He felt her shiver. ‘Cold?’

  ‘A little.’

  ‘Put your cloak over both of us and lie close. Two are always warmer than one under the covers.’

  ‘I suppose you speak from experience.’ Her voice was warm and teasing in the growing dark. He forced himself to remember how afraid she must be. How this was bravery on her part. How he had to keep her at a distance.

  ‘Many experiences.’

  ‘Oh.’ A sound filled with embarrassment, but still she covered him with her cloak, then slipped beneath it, hard up against his side. He had an urge to roll over and enclose her within his arms. To warm her with kisses. He gritted his teeth and stayed where he was. ‘Better?’

  ‘Yes.’ She snuggled closer, making his heart beat a little too fast. No, a lot too fast.

  ‘I was so glad you were there with me in that cart,’ she whispered. ‘I was terrified. When I heard your voice, I was so relieved.’

  ‘I was of little use.’ As little as he had been at the Tearnys’ cottage. He’d let his guard down. Never imagined that a scurvy bunch of ruffians would come up with such a devious scheme. Even now, he could not quite believe it. ‘I’m going to make Fred and his lads wish they had never been born, when we get back to Carrick.’ If they got back to Carrick. The thought of climbing the cliff was his worst nightmare come true. Thank God it would be dark when they made the attempt.

  ‘I wonder what Mr Murray is going to make of all this?’

  Murray. Now there was a thought. No doubt if he was here he’d be shinning up the rocks and enjoying himself. ‘He’ll be glad to see you brought back, safe and sound.’

  ‘I expect you are right.’

  She didn’t sound hopeful.

  ‘He can’t blame you for being abducted.’

  ‘No. But people talk. They make assumptions... I will have spent two nights unchaperoned. He might not be so pleased to marry a woman whose virtue is in doubt.’

  ‘A man worth marrying won’t listen to unfounded gossip.’

  She didn’t reply. In the dark, he had no way of telling if his words had the desired effect. Not that he cared about Murray. But from the tension in her body, he could tell she did. And with good reason. Her future was at stake.

  If they managed to escape in one piece.

  Better not to think about what might happen. It was like worrying about cards one hadn’t yet been dealt. It didn’t help. In fact, if he thought about the climb, his teeth might start to chatter.

  ‘Tell me about your home,’ he murmured. ‘About Braemuir.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said on a sigh and he felt her relax right away. ‘I haven’t been there for years.’

  ‘But you remember it.’

  ‘Of course. I grew up there. It was just me and Father, after Mother died.’ There was a long pause and he thought she wouldn’t say any more, but then she did and there was a smile in her voice, heart-stopping joy, and he wished he could see her face.

  ‘It is not a large estate, compared to Lord Carrick’s holding. A small park in a glen surrounded by hills. Everything is so green in the summer. And the winters are so fierce sometimes the road to the village is impassable for days.’

  ‘And you didna’ mind being cut off?’

  ‘It was more of an adventure. Father and I used to hunt, though there was always plenty of food in the larder and wood and peat for the fires. Enough for a few days, anyway.’

  Pretty much the way they survived at Dunross when the weather turned bad. ‘Has your family lived there long?’

  ‘There have been Aleynes at Braemuir for centuries. The current house was built for my mother’s grandfather by the Scottish architect James Smith. They kept the great hall and built the new house around it. I loved it as a child. Hearing the stories of my ancestors from my father. Seeing their portraits and collections. He spent hours with me, teaching me everything he knew.’

  ‘It is a rare father who spends so much time with a daughter.’ His own father had spent little or no time with his younger sons.

  ‘He planned to marry again, once he was done grieving my mother. It took a long time. But finally he felt he was ready. The night before he was to depart for Edinburgh, he collapsed. Apoplexy, the doctor said.’

  ‘And now you are to carry on where he left off.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been gone a long time, but I’ve never forgotten my promise to my father to do my best for Braemuir.’ Her voice lowered into a whisper. ‘It was too soon, when he died. I wasn’t ready.’

  Damn. Now he’d stirred up unhappy memories. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘But I am ready now. My aunt, Mrs Blackstone, taught me all I need to fulfil my duty.’

  It sounded like a cold future. ‘So you will be pleased to go home at last?’

  ‘I will. Braemuir needs its own lord again, though Lord Carrick has been assiduous in his role as trustee.’

  Had he? Niall recalled the entries in that damned private ledger. Payments listed as coming from Braemuir. He had no idea of their legitimacy. Nor should he have seen them.

  ‘And what about you?’ she asked. ‘Do you love your home?’

  ‘Ours is a slightly different tale, I am afraid, though it ends well enough. The Gilvrys lost Dunross Keep after ’45.’

  ‘You picked the losing side.’

  ‘Aye, like many Highlanders, we joined forces with the Bonnie Prince. After that, a Sassesnach lord took our lands. My great-grandfather fled to France, but a cousin remained close by Dunross and warded his son, my grandfather. The Gilvrys spent all their money and time trying to regain the land and the keep, until they were practically beggars.’

  ‘But you did get it back?’

  ‘Aye. My oldest brother finally married the English lord’s daughter. He seems happy about it, too.’

  ‘To your surprise?’

  ‘Aye, well, we all thought he’d tricked her into marrying him so he could get our lands back. It turned out they’d cared for each other for years. They just couldna’ see how to make it work, the two families hating each other as they did.’

  ‘It sounds romantic,’ she whispered with a sigh. Perhaps she was wishing Murray was here instead of him. And although her sweet form was pressed against him so sweetly and his body was raging with lust, he held himself rigid. Because if he didn’t he might just be tempted to kiss her again. And he was supposed to be keeping her safe.

  He hadn’t done a particularly good job of it so far, but tonight he would not let her down no matter how high those damned cliffs.

  And she trusted him to do just that. Protect her from these men and whoever was behind them. The thought split something open inside him and a great surge of tenderness bubbled up through the crack. She made him want to give her the moon and to protect her for ever and always.

  He touched his lips to her hair, a gesture of comfort, nothing more, and she lifted her face and pressed her lips to his.

  A small breathy touch. A searing flare to the dry tinder of his will. He turned on his side and wooed her lips. She tasted of hope and despair and trust and woman. And he didn’t care that she smelled faintly of fish—they both did. She also smelled of heather and roses.

  He teased her lips to hear her sigh. He tasted the dark depths of her mouth and her body turned inwards, her small perfect breast pressing against his chest. It was worth the pain just to feel her against him. He was burning. Hard as the rock beneath him.

  It was bliss. It was hell. She shifted. Pain shot through his chest. He drew in a sharp breath and she stilled.

  ‘Oh. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.’

  Sorry? Dazed, he held her a little away from him. If they continued down this path she would be very sorry indeed. She was engaged to another man. A man who could give her everything she needed most.r />
  Never had he wanted a woman the way he wanted this one. And here she was, ready and willing. If it was any other woman, he wouldn’t give it a moment’s thought. But this was Jenna. And he could not take the chance that what they might do at the edge of fear would ruin her life. She was innocent. He was not.

  He drew back. ‘No more, understand.’

  ‘What if tomorrow we are dead?’ She snuggled closer, her body half on his, her hands sliding around his nape.

  His heart thundered in his chest. His blood pulsed in his veins. A celebration of the gift he was offered. Just one more kiss. Then he’d stop. But he wouldn’t. If he kissed her again, he’d lose what little control he had left.

  It was his fault she was in danger. And soon they had a cliff to climb. The cold inside him expanded until he wanted to shudder like a cowering dog. The thought of those cliffs. The height of them. His mouth dried. His throat closed. His limbs turned to water just thinking about them. But he could not let her see his cowardice. ‘In a few hours we will be back at Carrick Castle and this will all seem like a dream.’

  It was with a feeling of pride that he threw back the cloak and stood up, with a groan at the pain across his ribs. A feeling of having fought a devil within him and won. Her little sound of protest struck low in his gut, but he ignored it. ‘It’s time. Get ready.’ His voice sounded harsh and that was just as well, because she moved to obey.

  He heard the rustle of her skirts as he walked softly to the mouth of the cave and let his eyes adjust to the light from the stars twinkling in between patches of cloud. Down on the beach, Pip was slumped beside the fire. Asleep. Poor wee lad. He’d had a hard day. Niall smiled a grim smile. He’d help him sleep a little longer.

  Soundlessly, he climbed carefully across the rocks to the beach. Pip didn’t stir as he approached the fire. He picked up a piece of driftwood and hit the sleeping lad above the ear. He collapsed with a gentle sigh. Tit for tat.

  Niall searched through his clothes, took the pistol and his knife, then checked his pockets and found powder and balls in a waterproof package within. The pistol would come in handy when they made it to the top of the cliff.

  When. Now there was positive thinking.

  He glanced down and saw something much more valuable than a pistol: a long length of rope. He coiled it and slung it over his shoulder. By the time he got back to the cave, Jenna was standing at the entrance, waiting. Her skirts tucked up above her sensible boots revealed the white gleam of stockings.

  He tied one end of his rope around his waist and the other around hers. It was how Ian had taken him up the cliffs the very first time. The day he had discovered he was terrified of heights. His brother thought to help him get over his fear. It hadn’t worked. Better not to think of that now.

  The first part of the climb went relatively easily. The rocks were more like stepping stones and Jenna kept pace. And just as the dark had helped him the last time he’d climbed a cliff, it helped him now. He kept his gaze fixed ahead, looking for the next handhold, the next place to step. Until they came to the crevice. This was the part he’d been dreading most. And now, up close, with the sky directly above, he could see it leaned outwards. Could it get any worse?

  Keeping himself flat against the cliff wall, he risked a glance down to the beach to the glow of the fire where he’d left Pip. No movement. God, it was such a long way down. His head spun. His knees weakened. He grabbed at the rock face and pressed his forehead to cold granite.

  He’d reached his limit.

  The point at which he could neither go up or go down. No. He could go down. He could do that. As long as he went slowly and didn’t look.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Jenna whispered from behind him. ‘Is it your ribs?’

  ‘Aye.’ He certainly wasn’t going to tell her he was afraid to move.

  Bile rose in his throat. And anger. At his inability to conquer his fear. At his cowardice.

  He didn’t understand it. It was irrational.

  He swallowed. This wasn’t about him. It was about getting Jenna to safety. Back in her betrothed’s arms. Oh, now there was an incentive to spur him on. He took a deep breath. He didn’t have a choice. He had to do this. Once more he leaned back to look up the crevice. It was about fifteen feet, from here to the ledge. Nothing, Logan would call it. ‘Stay here. When I tug on the rope be prepared for me to lift you.’

  ‘Wh-where are you going?’

  ‘Up,’ he said. ‘Just do it, Jenna. Please.’

  He didn’t wait for her answer, just went to the spot where the rock face split apart. He’d seen his brothers do this countless times, put their back to one side of a crevice and shimmy upwards using hands and feet. He took a deep breath, pressed his back to the rough rock and one hand flat behind him, one foot high against the opposite wall and pushed up. Just like walking up a wall, Logan had crowed the first time he did it. And it wasn’t that hard at the start, where the sides were close. Right foot, left hand, push. Left foot, right hand, push. But the distance was widening, and he was so high above the beach. He panted for breath, sweating so hard the hand supporting him slid on the rock, his stomach falling away in dizzying spirals.

  It was happening again. He couldn’t do it.

  He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes to stop the world spinning. Trembles shook his body. He could not do this. It was not fair that he should have to do this. Frozen, his arms and legs rigid, he felt like a block of ice.

  Breathe. His grandfather’s voice came back to him, just the same as when the old man had come to help him down that first time. Breathe? He could scarcely take a breath at all. Besides, breathing hurt because Fred had kicked him.

  Take it one step at a time, the voice said.

  All right for you to say. You are not the one forty feet up.

  He had to do this. For Jenna’s sake. He took one shaky breath. And another. Slowly his stomach settled in one place. He opened his eyes and glanced up quickly. He could see the top of the crevice. The edge of the ledge. All he had to do was get there and have solid ground beneath him. One step at a time. Don’t think about anything else.

  He moved one hand and one foot, just an inch or two and pushed. And then again. Three more times and he was up on the ledge, his body and cheek pressed hard against the blessedly flat rock and his ribs jabbing at him. A most welcome pain.

  Now he had to pull Jenna up. Slowly he got to his feet and pressed his back against the rock wall. He squeezed his eyes closed and opened them, then looked down.

  He could see her, a darker shadow against the rocks. He fixed the rope over his shoulder. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He braced his feet apart and began to pull her up. The brave lass used her hands and feet on the rock face, making it easier to ignore the pain in his chest. And finally he had her up beside him. He leaned against the rock, panting.

  ‘That was interesting,’ she said, her voice a few inches from his face.

  Anger filled him. Anger at how relaxed she sounded, at how easily she’d accomplished something that had just about made him insane. So angry he climbed the last few feet without thinking. He flung himself over the cliff edge to land on his knees. He rolled clear, leaped to his feet, walking backwards, holding the rope taut until she followed him over and was clear of the edge.

  ‘We did it,’ she cried.

  ‘Hush. Do you want Pip to hear us?’ He bent over, hands on his knees, waiting for his gut to stop churning and his teeth not to chatter.

  Finally, he took a deep breath and straightened. ‘Yes, we did it,’ he whispered. ‘But we have a long way to go before we are safe.’ He pulled her towards him, seeing her shape as a dark shadow against the starlit sky, feeling her warmth when she stood in front of him, the gleam of bare slender legs beneath her tucked-up skirts. His hands shaking badly, he fumbled with the knots to get them untied.

  ‘Can I help?’

  He stiffened at the sympathy in her voice. ‘I can manag
e.’ He certainly wasn’t going to tell her he wanted nothing more than to lay flat on the ground in utter relief.

  ‘It was amazing the way you climbed up there,’ she said.

  Sarcasm. It had to be. She knew he didn’t like heights and no doubt she’d seen his panic. His fear. Now she’d seen his cowardice in action. At last the knot came undone. He stepped clear. ‘Hurry and straighten yourself,’ he said brusquely. ‘I hit our friend Pip pretty hard, but he’s no doubt had worse and who knows how soon he’ll awake. We need to be as far from here as possible before the sun comes up and the others return.’

  ‘Perhaps they will think we swam,’ she said, shaking out her skirts.

  He forced himself to turn away. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she mimicked. ‘Can’t you at least be happy we’ve escaped?’

  ‘I’ll celebrate when I am sure we have.’ He hated that he sounded so grim in the face of her joy, but until his stomach returned to its normal place and his head stopped spinning, he was not going to be in the mood for cheerful conversation. And he certainly didn’t want her sympathy.

  Chapter Ten

  Poor Niall. Clearly, he hadn’t yet recovered from the climb. She didn’t dare offer comfort in case he took offence. She’d also been terrified, climbing up that cliff in the dark. Only the knowledge he was ahead of her, holding the rope, had given her the courage to follow. For a while, at the bottom of the fissure, she’d been sure she wasn’t going to make it. Thank goodness he knew what he was doing. She breathed a sigh of relief. With that awful climb behind them, all they had to do was get back to Carrick.

  She wasn’t exactly looking forward to going back to the castle. There was sure to be an uproar. Her cousin would be furious when he learned what had happened and she very much feared he would blame Niall. Well, he needn’t worry she would let him shoulder the blame or suffer the consequences.

  Since there was nothing to be done about it at this moment, she strode along beside him, or at least he strode and she had to keep breaking into a run to keep up. She was just about to ask him to slow down when she saw a soft red glow up ahead. Niall must have seen it, too, because he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground.