Her hand fluttered to her heart in what appeared to be an unconscious gesture of shock. His gaze dropped down to the lush curve of her breast just below her hand, and unwanted heat suddenly surged through him.
Biting down on a curse, he ripped his gaze away from Anna.
“Why would Laird Munro send ye?” the man who seemed to be in charge of the convoy said, his dark eyes narrowing on Graeme. “Or the King, for that matter?”
“And ye are?” Graeme returned, grateful to have someone else to focus on besides Anna.
The man’s already rigid body went straighter. “Jerome Munro, the Laird’s second in command.”
“Graeme MacKay.” Graeme didn’t bother extending his forearm. Instead, he gave Jerome a curt nod. “As to why I’m here, as I said, I’m just following orders. I was sent to protect the lass on her journey. Yer Laird seemed to think that ye and the others weren’t enough.”
Jerome’s nostrils flared, his eyes blazing at the insult. Graeme wouldn’t apologize, though. Aye, he was blunt, but that didn’t make him wrong.
“I am to join the King’s Bodyguard Corps,” Graeme went on. “He thought this would be a good first assignment, seeing as how the lass needs to reach the Lowlands safely for yer clans’ alliance to go forward.”
Jerome huffed a little exhale. “Aye, well.” He slowly re-sheathed his sword, and the other guards followed. “Ye may have been sent by the King, but I am in charge of this mission.”
Dropping his voice, Jerome stepped closer. “Dinnae question me or get in the way, else even the King’s favor willnae protect ye from my wrath.”
Graeme considered stepping nose to nose with Jerome and testing just how far the surly Munro commander could be pushed, but instead he gave another brusque nod.
“We might as well make camp for the night,” Jerome said, raising his voice so that the others could hear him once more. He turned to his horse and began unsaddling the animal, and the men did the same, though some sent sideways glances at Graeme.
“Graeme.”
He whipped his head around at the soft, velvety voice that still haunted his dreams.
Anna had apparently recovered somewhat from her shock at seeing him, for her bonny mouth no longer hung open. Her rounded gaze was still fixed on him as she scooted forward across the wagon’s bottom, however.
When she reached the edge of the wagon, she brought trembling fingers up to her lips. “Is it true? Were ye sent here to escort me to the Lowlands?”
Graeme’s hand clenched around the canvas he still held back from the wagon’s opening. “Aye.”
He saw her mouth curve into a wobbling smile behind her fingertips.
“I ken ye cannae be genuinely happy to see me, so ye must be smiling in discomfort,” he said, his voice hard and low.
It was a trait he used to find charming and endearing. Whenever Anna felt uncomfortable or awkward, a nervous smile would take control of her delicate features.
When he’d discovered this little quirk, he’d quickly developed a love of teasing her about it, trying to find ways to make that lopsided grin appear on her lips. He’d once lifted his kilt and flashed his naked arse at her just to win one of those silly smiles. Another time he’d broken into song in the middle of a busy market square, bellowing off-key at the top of his lungs as she shushed him and covered her smile with one hand.
Now, as she fought against the strained curve of her lips, his heart twisted painfully. Aye, it was nerves and not happiness that made her smile. No doubt she’d hoped never to encounter him again. How awkward this must be for her, to have her former beau escorting her to her new fiancé.
“I-I never thought I’d see ye again,” she murmured.
“Aye,” Graeme ground out, hardening himself against the soft caress of her voice. “Yer silence after my last missive made yer wishes clear.”
Her hand dropped from her mouth and once again fluttered to the spot just above her heart. “Graeme, we need to talk. I need to tell ye—”
“MacKay.” Jerome’s sharp voice cut Anna off. The Munro commander strode to the back of the wagon where Graeme lingered.
“Lady Anna, ye need yer rest,” Jerome said evenly, keeping his dark gaze fixed on Graeme. “We have another long day of travel ahead of us, and the wagon can only go so fast.”
Jerome’s eyes flicked briefly to Anna. “See to yer needs for the night, my lady,” he said curtly. “Then return to the wagon and sleep while ye can.” His gaze slid back to Graeme. “I need to apprise MacKay here of our route.”
Jerome jerked his head to the side, indicating that Graeme step away with him. Reluctantly, Graeme released his hold on the wagon’s canvas covering and moved off.
He gritted his teeth against the ache in his leg from riding. Though he tried to smooth out his gait, he felt both Jerome and Anna’s eyes on him as he limped several paces away.
Once they were off to the side, Jerome waited for Anna to slip unassisted from the wagon and receive a portion of biscuits and dried meat from one of the other men. Against his will, Graeme’s gaze followed Anna as she moved through the little camp the guards were making.
“Graeme MacKay,” Jerome said, quiet enough that no one else could overhear. “I’ve heard of ye before. Ye were the man courting Lady Anna before her engagement to Laird Munro.”
Though Jerome’s tone was soft, Graeme didn’t miss the subtle edge to it—or the unspoken warning. He turned fully to Jerome, meeting his gaze evenly.
“Aye, I was.”
“And now Lady Anna will wed my Laird,” Jerome went on, his voice hardening. “So there is no place for ye here. Mayhap ye should have stayed away.”
“I’m just following orders,” Graeme ground out. “It was yer Laird who requested that the King send a member of his Bodyguard Corps.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Graeme noticed Anna moving toward the wagon once more. She wearily hoisted herself back into it and scooted through the canvas flaps. When the flaps closed, she was cut off from his gaze, but his eyes lingered on the gently swaying canvas for a moment.
He turned back to find Jerome watching him as a hawk eyed its prey.
“Ye are devoted to yer clan—yer Laird—are ye no’, MacKay?”
The question was spoken lightly—deceptively so.
“Aye.”
“So am I,” Jerome said. “I’d give my life for my people—or take life. My Laird wants Lady Anna to be delivered safely to him. He wishes to marry her. So as his most loyal warrior, I’ll see both done.”
Jerome shifted just a hair closer, but the air suddenly felt thick with the unspoken promise of aggression. “And I willnae let anyone get in the way of doing my duty. Ye understand, MacKay?”
“I have no intention of interfering,” Graeme replied tightly. “We are on the same side for once, Munro.”
A long moment passed, and Graeme felt his whole body pulling tauter than a bow string.
At last, Jerome rocked back slightly on his heels. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad we understand each other.”
Jerome stalked off toward the others as they began to bed down on the ground, wrapping themselves in their Munro and Ross plaids.
Graeme walked slowly back to where he’d left his horse, trying to work the knots out of both his leg and his head.
He removed the saddle and bridle from his horse and tethered the animal among the others on the edge of their little camp, but even after he’d drawn an extra length of plaid from his saddlebags and settled on the ground with the other men, his mind was still a tangled mess.
He thought he’d feel different seeing Anna again after the news of her engagement. He thought he’d feel…angrier. That his fury at her silent rejection of him would burn away any last vestiges of desire and tenderness he’d once felt for her.
Instead, it was as if no time had passed—and naught had changed. Her soft voice still made his innards turn to porridge. Those dark, deep blue eyes sent ripples of awareness through him. And her swee
t curves ignited a familiar fire in his veins.
Bloody hell, this was going to be the longest five days of his life.
Chapter Five
Anna tried counting backward from one hundred. She tried envisioning sheep lazily walking across a Highland field. She tried slowing her breath, rolling onto one side and then the other, but naught worked.
When the inside of the wagon began to lighten with approaching dawn, she gave up on sleep altogether, for soon enough the man who’d been haunting her thoughts would be before her in actuality.
Part of her longed to lay eyes on Graeme, this time in the light of day rather than in twilight’s gloom. But another part of her dreaded it, for even their brief encounter last night had left her in shambles.
He was so dreadfully handsome. Aye, he was rough around the edges, but that only made him more alluring in her eyes. Last night, his sandy blond hair had been pulled back in its usual loose and messy queue at the base of his neck. He’d worn several days’ worth of scruff on his jaw, and his simple woolen cloak had looked rumpled with travel, as had his linen tunic and blue and green MacKay plaid.
With one lopsided grin, he could have set her knees to trembling, but instead, he’d been cold and harsh with her.
She couldn’t blame him. He knew not what was in her heart, nor what role her father had played in ending their communication and arranging for her engagement to Laird Munro.
A sliver of her—the foolish, silly, romantic girl that still lived in her heart—had hoped against hope that when the banns announcing her engagement to Laird Munro had been read, Graeme would come charging into the Highlands, demanding that the marriage be called off.
Even more ridiculously, she’d let herself imagine that he would sweep her away from the Ross keep and wed her himself. Kidnapping one’s bride wasn’t so preposterous an event in the Highlands. A wedding was a wedding, and Anna would take a kidnapping and a forbidden marriage that went against her father’s wishes if it meant she could marry Graeme.
Or so she had fancied, but those were the musings of a silly lass. In reality, Graeme hadn’t come riding to the Ross clan’s castle gates, demanding her and her alone. In reality, she’d acquiesced to her arranged marriage with Laird Munro, for it was best for her people. And in reality, Graeme now hated her for it.
Though it wouldn’t change aught, she at least owed him an explanation. Aye, she would still marry Laird Munro, for her clan was counting on this alliance. But if naught else, Graeme would know what was in her heart—that she loved him and had tried to accept his proposal.
Anna sat up and straightened her dress, making sure the two folded pieces of parchment were still in place over her heart. She quickly plaited her hair and pinched her cheeks to chase away the fatigue from a sleepless night. Then there was naught left to do but face the day—and Graeme.
Just as she pulled back the wagon’s flap, the patter of raindrops began to rustle the leaves and drum against the canvas.
The men of her retinue had apparently already begun to rise for the day, but as the rain rapidly grew heavier, they moved swiftly to break camp and saddle their horses.
She caught sight of Graeme’s blue and green plaid in the sea of red wool.
“Graeme,” she called over the increasingly loud rainfall.
He turned his emerald gaze on her, and she noticed that his eyes were tight with strain and shadowed with fatigue. Mayhap sleep had evaded him as well.
She opened her mouth to call him over in the hopes that they could catch a moment of privacy and she could explain things. Even before she could form the words, however, Graeme ducked his head against the rain and hurried on with his tasks, limping slightly.
Just then, Jerome stepped into her line of sight, cutting off her view of Graeme.
“Ye’d best ready yerself for the day’s travels, my lady,” Jerome said curtly. “This rain will only slow us down further. We’ll have a long day ahead.”
Barely repressing a shudder at the thought of not only another grueling, bumpy journey, but a wet one as well, Anna nodded.
It seemed as though she would be forced to wait to speak with Graeme.
Anna let her body sway with the motion of the wagon. The hammer of the rain against the canvas roof was nigh deafening, but at least she was dry inside.
It had rained nonstop all morning and through their brief midday break to rest the animals and take a small meal. Now that they’d resumed the trek, she knew the men were soaking wet and likely miserable atop their horses.
Suddenly, the wagon lurched sharply to the left. There was a loud snap and a rough jolt, and the back left corner of the wagon abruptly dropped downward by a foot.
A startled cry rose in Anna’s throat as she was tossed against the side of the wagon roughly.
“Shite!” someone snapped beyond the wagon’s canvas covering.
Anna righted herself and drew back one of the makeshift canvas window coverings. Hesitantly, she stuck her head out into the driving rain.
“Is all well?”
From the look on the face of the man sitting on the bench at the front of the wagon, it wasn’t. He peered back through the downpour at the left rear wheel. Anna followed his gaze.
Not only was the wheel deeply submerged in an enormous mud- and water-filled crater in the path, but the wheel had snapped and crumpled in half, leaving it more an oval than a circle.
“What happened?” Jerome barked, reining his horse around.
“I couldnae see the hole, what with all the mud and rain,” the wagon’s driver said apologetically.
Jerome muttered a curse. He glanced around at the other guards who were waiting for his order.
“If all the men put their shoulder to the back of the wagon, we could no doubt get it out of that hole,” Jerome said, frowning.
Graeme pulled his horse to a halt next to Jerome. “Aye, but we wouldnae be able to fix that broken wheel.”
Jerome glared darkly at Graeme, but Graeme was right from what Anna could see.
Breathing another curse, Jerome seemed to make up his mind. “We’ll leave the wagon behind. Dennis, ye and Keith share Keith’s horse and ride back the way we came.”
Dennis, the driver of the wagon, mumbled discontentedly as he began to lower himself from the bench.
Keith, one of the younger guards, urged his horse forward. “Where are we to go?” He looked about at pleased as Dennis at the prospect of having to stay behind.
“An hour’s ride the way we came, there was a turn-off to Stirling,” Jerome replied. “Find someone who can repair the wagon and bring him to it. Then ye’ll take the wagon back to Laird Ross.”
“We could simply wait for a new wheel to be brought from Stirling,” Graeme said, his shoulders hunched in his cloak against the heavy rain.
“Nay,” Jerome snapped. “Laird Munro expects his bride to arrive a sennight after the final banns were read. It is my responsibility to see it done. I’ll no’ fail him.”
“And it is my responsibility to ensure Anna’s safety and wellbeing,” Graeme said tightly. “I’m sure yer Laird wouldnae want her traveling in these conditions.”
“We are sitting ducks for bandits and thieves out here,” Jerome shot back. “We cannae stay with the wagon. We must keep moving.”
Even from several paces away and through a curtain of rain, Anna could see Graeme’s jaw muscles twitch. “And how do ye propose that Lady Anna travel without the use of the wagon?”
Jerome thought for a moment. “Mayhap we can unhitch the mules from the wagon and she can ride one of those.”
Anna sucked in a breath. Graeme’s gaze darted to her before he leveled Jerome with a hard stare. “Ye’d have the future wife of yer Laird ride a mule. Without a saddle. Or a bridle. Through a storm.”
Jerome let out a frustrated noise. “Since ye seem to ken what no’ to do, what would ye suggest?”
Graeme scrubbed a hand over his dripping, stubble-covered chin. After a long moment, he exhaled. His
gaze rose to Anna, and a jolt of awareness shot through her.
“She can ride with me.”
Anna gasped again, and Jerome shook his head sternly.
“Nay. One of the men can double up with someone, and she can have her own horse.”
Anna’s stomach knotted tight at the thought. She’d have to sit atop one of the enormous war horses the guards rode, by herself, and try to control such a large animal?
“Anna doesnae feel comfortable with horses,” Graeme said evenly before Anna could form an excuse that would save her from having to ride by herself.
He remembered. Warmth filled her chest at the realization that he not only recalled her discomfort around horses, but that he was trying to protect her from a frightening experience.
“It isnae…appropriate for Lady Anna to ride with ye,” Jerome said through clenched teeth.
“She has to ride with someone,” Graeme fired back.
Jerome opened his mouth to reply, but sensing that the disagreement was reaching its boiling point, Anna dove into the conversation.
“It is all right, Jerome. As Graeme says, I am not a strong rider. It would be best for me to ride with someone.” She pulled in a breath, steeling herself for the next words. They would hurt Graeme, but at least they would soothe Jerome’s wariness. “It might as well be Graeme. I am engaged to Laird Munro now, and riding with a man—any man—does not threaten or change that.”
Her gaze sought Graeme, and just as she feared, he flinched slightly, his bright green eyes darkening and his jaw locking.
“Verra well,” Jerome muttered, pulling her attention back to him.
Anna dropped the canvas flap and brought her head back into the shelter of the covered wagon. She glanced at the large wooden trunk at the other end. She would have to leave it here.
Thankfully, she hadn’t packed all her worldly possessions, as she’d expected to return to the Highlands not long after her wedding. She’d planned on sending for the majority of her clothes and keepsakes once she got settled on Munro land. Still, she wouldn’t be able to take the fine gown she’d planned to wear for her wedding.
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