Rob turned back to her, all business again. ‘Well, let’s bind this troublesome ankle before supper shall we? I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.’
Jessie couldn’t have said why, but the mischievous imp inside her that was forever getting her into trouble, decided to show itself. She affected a sigh then curved her mouth into a rueful smile. ‘Such a shame we’re no’ having venison though.’
Rob raised his eyebrows, clearly startled, then threw his head back and laughed. ‘I couldn’t agree with you more, Jessie Munroe,’ he said shaking his head, amusement and perhaps even admiration dancing in his eyes. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’
* * *
Despite her hunger, Jessie had only been able to stomach a little of the rye bread from her satchel. She happily shared the rest of it, her wedge of cheese and her few apples with Rob and Tobias, who also seemed to have a fair stash of dried beef and oat cakes. For poachers, they seemed very well prepared. She wondered again how Rob—so obviously the master and Tobias his servant—knew of Lord Strathburn’s hunting lodge and why he used it with such confidence, as if he was familiar with it, even belonged here. It was all very odd.
But she was too exhausted to ponder the conundrum that was Mr Rob Burnley, for too long. The second dram of whisky she’d had with her meal sat much better with her than the first had; a heavy, pleasant warmth spread through her as she sat before the fire, tucked up in the plaid and a thick woollen blanket. Even though her arm and ankle still pulsed with steady pain, it wasn’t long before her eyes grew heavy and her head began to nod.
She could hear Rob and Tobias in quiet conversation as they sat nearby at the oak table, their voices nothing more than a murmur above the steady tattoo of heavy rain on the roof. Perhaps she even drifted into a light doze—for how long she wasn’t sure—but then something roused her to full consciousness again. She was aware of the two men still talking nearby. Then Tobias said her name.
Her breath caught. They were discussing her. They must have assumed she was still asleep.
‘What do you think she was really doing up here, milord?’
‘After what I saw this morning by the loch, I can only assume that she and Simon must have been planning another assignation. Only the inclement weather has clearly put Simon off.’
‘So do you think they are definitely … lovers?’
‘What I witnessed was more than just a friendly embrace, Tobias. The questions I keep asking myself are, how did Jessie come to be at Lochrose, and how seriously is she involved with Simon? And how much can I trust her?’
God in heaven. Rob had been at Loch Kilburn this morning and had seen her with Simon. More than that, he had seen Simon kissing her. But he had misinterpreted everything. And why had he been there watching them at all?
Aside from that, both Rob and Tobias knew Simon.
Before Jessie could even think on what she’d learned, Tobias asked another question that set her heart galloping. ‘What are ye going to do wi’ her, milord?’
Jessie stopped breathing as she waited for Rob’s reply. Why didn’t he respond? Was it really that difficult a question?
‘I don’t know yet,’ he answered eventually. ‘It’s a complicated situation to say the least. There’s a risk that if Jessie goes back to Lochrose, she’ll tell Simon about us. He’ll easily put two and two together and then set the Watch or dragoons on me. I can’t risk being arrested.’
‘Do ye really think he would do tha’?’
‘It’s more than a definite risk. I would wager my soul it’s exactly what he’d do.’
Breathe, Jessie, breathe. Don’t let them know you’re eavesdropping. There was another short pause in which Jessie heard the clinking of glass followed by the glug of liquid from a bottle.
Rob spoke again. ‘She’s a problem that I wasn’t expecting. And it could be my downfall.’
‘Do ye think Simon will be out looking for her on the morrow?’
Rob chuckled quietly. ‘Well I suppose it depends on the weather.’ A serious note returned to his voice. ‘But it’s likely that the Black Watch will be out and about at any rate if she’s been missed returning to the castle tonight.’
‘She’s a comely lass, milord. Perchance she is just a tumble in the hay for Simon?’
‘Mmm. Possible. But I think she is maybe a little more than that. She is refined. She speaks and dresses well and there were guineas in her purse. And the horse she rode to the loch this morning was the mount of a genteel woman. She is much more than just a lass from the village or a servant at the castle. I did wonder if she might be my father’s ward.’
‘Perhaps I could ask my cousin, Annie, or the other staff at the castle aboot her.’
‘On the surface that sounds like a reasonable course of action to take, Tobias. Perhaps tomorrow, but only after we have discussed a line of questioning that won’t arouse suspicion. We need to exercise caution whatever we decide to do about Jessie. If we let her go, she will undoubtedly tell Simon about us. And even though we only appear to be poachers, that would be cause enough for a lynch mob of clansmen, if not the Watch to be sent out. The worst case scenario I can envisage would be that Simon will work out what is really going on when Jessie provides him with a description of me.’
There was a brief silence in which the only sound discernible was the crackle of burning logs in the fireplace and the rain outside. Even though her eyes were closed, Jessie sensed that Rob had glanced over to her. It was like she could feel his stare upon her—as if he was actually touching her. She strove to stay perfectly still, to control her breathing, to keep her expression neutral. She must have succeeded in convincing him she was still asleep as he soon resumed the speculative discussion … about her.
‘On the other hand, if we keep Jessie with us, we also run the risk of Simon, or others who care for her, sending out a search party. Either way we’ll have the Black Watch or the dragoons on our tails.’
‘I dinna think she will take kindly to being held against her will.’
‘Aye, I believe you may be right on that score.’
‘She kens too much, milord.’
‘Yes, she does. She’s definitely a complication we could do without.’
‘Maybe it would be easier if we just—’ Tobias suddenly broke off.
Jessie heard a chair scrape backwards and footsteps coming toward her. What if they could tell she had been listening all this time? Her heart was thudding so loudly in her chest, she was certain they must be able to hear it. What had Tobias meant when he’d said it would be easier to … what? Do away with her?
They see me as a threat of some kind. A complication.
Had fear registered on her face? A shadow moved across her and she swallowed a scream.
‘Jessie?’ It was Rob. Despite her best efforts to control her breathing, it was rapid and shallow. He would know she’d heard everything.
His hand was on her knee. ‘Jessie lass, wake up.’
Her eyes flew open and she gasped. Rob’s face was very close to her own.
‘It’s all right, lass. You must have been having a nightmare.’
Jessie nodded. Yes, this was a nightmare. A waking nightmare. And the cold fear gripping her heart was all too real.
‘I’ll carry you to bed,’ Rob said softly. ‘You’ll sleep better there.’
As he effortlessly lifted her up, she started to protest, but he simply gave her his lopsided grin. ‘It’s no trouble at all, lass.’ His voice was a caress along her ear. ‘You don’t want to be putting weight on that ankle yet. You’ve been hurt enough for one day.’ His tone and expression were completely incongruous with what he had just been saying to Tobias. It unnerved her further. How could Rob dispassionately discuss holding her captive, perhaps even disposing of her, one moment, then bestow upon her a charming smile the next? With equal measures of trepidation and disappointment welling within her, she realised Mr Rob Burnley—she doubted that was his real name—was dangerous after all. A true wolf
in sheep’s clothing.
He carried her through to the main bedchamber and placed her gently on the large bed so that she reclined against the pillows. Then without invitation, he sat down beside her. ‘I’m afraid the bedding is a bit dusty and probably needs a good airing. I don’t think this room has been used for a long time, but at least it’s warm and dry.’
Jessie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Was Rob trying to intimidate her by sitting so close? However, there was no threat evident in his voice or expression and since she’d been injured, he’d shown her nothing but kindness. But was it all a ruse? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security whilst he worked out how to dispose of the problem she was assumed to be? She was so confused and heartsick. And frightened. She dropped her gaze to the bedclothes. She couldn’t look at him.
Rob continued to sit on the edge of the bed, watching her. Was he waiting for her to speak? She suddenly wanted to reassure him that she wasn’t a threat, that she had no allegiance to Simon Grant whatsoever. She didn’t want him to believe she was in a relationship of some kind with him, despite what Rob had thought he’d seen. She wanted him to know the truth—that the thought of being Simon’s lover made her sick.
But how could she begin to speak of such awkward, degrading things when she hardly knew Rob? And would he believe her? He had no reason to trust her. Perhaps he would think she was denying a tie to Simon simply to save her own skin. Her teeth worried at her bottom lip whilst she tried to work through all the twists and turns of her thinking.
Perhaps if she just conveyed to him how grateful she was for his care. Surely if he understood she did not take his intervention for granted—that she felt indebted to him—it would make him pause to consider the possibility that she might actually be an ally, at least on some level.
With some effort, she pushed herself upright against the pillows and tried to ignore the press of Rob’s long muscular leg against her own through the folds of the plaid. She needed her wits about her. She drew a shaky breath and forced herself to meet his eyes. ‘I … I want to thank you for helping me, Rob. You have been nothing but kind an’ … a gentleman, in every way.’
He smiled at that and she blushed as she remembered how he’d helped to undress her.
Garnering her courage, she continued. ‘I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me an’ I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble. If there is anything at all I can do to repay you … you only need to ask …’
She immediately regretted her last words as Rob’s gaze immediately dropped to her lips. His eyes narrowed slightly and heat flared in their midnight blue depths. For a moment she had the impression that he was about to kiss her. But surely he didn’t expect her to … show her gratitude in that way.
But what if he did? Her pulse began running wildly again and that strange warm ache she’d felt earlier started to pulse low in her abdomen. She was clearly daft. She should be repulsed like she had been when Simon had forced his brutal kiss upon her. But heaven help her, she was not.
‘Mmm,’ Rob murmured. He reached out and gently lifted her chin with his finger so that she was forced to look straight into his eyes. She held her breath. ‘Think of it no more, mo ghaoil. I am the one who should be begging for your forgiveness for having hurt you so. If anyone needs recompense it is you, Jessie Munroe.’ He suddenly rose from the bed and spread a thick quilt over her legs. ‘But, what I think is most important right now, is that you get some sleep.’ Then in the next instant he was gone, the door snicking shut behind him.
With a great shuddering sigh, Jessie sank back down onto the bed, thoughts too many to count spinning about in her head. Even though she was spent, sleep seemed impossible. She resolutely pushed away the memory of the moment she had thought Rob was going to kiss her. Dwelling on that was not going to help her out of this predicament.
Regardless of all that had befallen her today, her focus still needed to be on getting herself to Grantown-on-Spey to catch the public coach to Edinburgh as she had planned. But obviously that would be impossible if Rob decided to keep her captive or subdue her in some other way …
Yet he’d called her mo ghaoil, my dear.
Ruthlessly she crushed the notion that Rob cared even a little about her. He’d used the Gaelic endearment simply to dupe her into trusting him.
With a frustrated groan, she wrenched her mind back to the problem at hand. She reviewed all that she had learned from the exchange she’d overheard between Rob and Tobias. Obviously they were not poachers but fugitives of some kind, given they were taking great care to evade detection by the Black Watch and the dragoons. But why? What had they done that was against the law?
Somehow, Rob also knew Simon well; he was even aware of his idiosyncrasies. Indeed, Rob seemed to think—for some reason that was completely unfathomable to her—that Simon was his biggest threat. And because of Rob’s mistaken belief that she was in some kind of relationship with Simon, he was now going to assess how much of a potential threat she was to his safety also.
But she was no threat at all. Jessie again contemplated confessing everything to Rob—that Simon was not her lover, and that in actual fact, she was running away from him. At least then Rob would know she had no loyalty to that man. But if she was honest and revealed she was just the factor’s daughter, with no one really searching for her, Rob may see her as even more dispensable. It would be easier to remove a complication if that said complication wouldn’t be missed at all. However if she pretended to be someone of some importance to the earl and his son, it may stay Rob’s hand in acting to silence her.
She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing and quell the maelstrom of panicked thoughts tumbling about in her mind.
Perhaps she should just run now? Perhaps when Rob and Tobias were asleep, she could sneak out and take one of the horses and ride to … where? Castle Lochrose and back to Simon Grant? She’d sooner die than return to him. And if she went to the Strathspey Inn, there was still the distinct possibility that Simon would find her there too.
But in reality she knew that flight would be a near impossible feat given her injuries. Then there was the problem of her lack of suitable clothes. Her gown was ruined and she doubted she’d be able to put it back on again. And wearing a hunting plaid which was proscribed unless you were in the Watch was not conducive to remaining inconspicuous. She’d be noticed and apprehended on sight by any dragoons or Black Watch in the area.
Jessie could still hear the rain lashing the hunting lodge’s windows and the occasional flash of lightning lit the room. It was certainly not a night to be outside, especially considering her current state. Any attempt to leave here was doomed to failure. She had no real way of escape and no safe place to go. She’d never felt so alone in all her life. Tears spilled out from under her eyelids. For a long time she watched the fire dying in the grate, until at last she succumbed to exhaustion.
* * *
When Robert entered the bedchamber again sometime later, it was to discover that Jessie was fast asleep. By the light of the candle he held, he could see she had been crying; he could detect the faint glimmer of half dried tears on her cheeks.
Although he couldn’t say for certain, his gut told him that the girl had been listening when he’d been talking to Tobias earlier. What a fool he’d been to let his guard down. When he’d approached Jessie, he hadn’t failed to notice the tension in every line of her face, her erratic breathing. She’d been terrified. And now she probably knew he’d seen her with Simon, knew he was contemplating what to do next. That he was a wanted man. But did she yet know he was Robert Grant, the Jacobite?
The fire had died to a low reddish glow. He placed the candle on the mantel and after throwing another pine log into the grate, absently watched the sparks fly up the chimney. Behind him, Jessie stirred slightly. He turned to look at her again. The sight of her in sleep made him ache in a way he didn’t like. She was dangerous this woman, dangerous beyond imagining.
&n
bsp; When he’d put her to bed earlier and she’d betrayed her nervousness by biting her fulsome bottom lip, it had taken every ounce of restraint he possessed to stop himself from seizing her then and there and kissing her senseless. The lustful male in him wanted to wake her now and join her in the bed, to make her want him as much as his body seemed to want her. And yet he also wanted to lie beside her and cradle her in his arms, fall asleep beside her with his face buried in her luxurious hair. To take succour from all this beautiful Highland lass had to offer. Even now the scent of warm, sleepy female beckoned to him like a siren’s song. But he knew he would do neither of those things tonight with Jessie. She belonged to someone else—his brother.
It suddenly occurred to Robert that his urge to possess Jessie sprang from an entirely selfish need to some extent—that perhaps she could somehow fill the gaping black void within him. To help him forget his fears and ever-present guilt by getting lost in mindless pleasure.
But then again, perhaps he wanted to make her his, simply because he couldn’t stand the idea of her being with Simon. He now recognised the previously indefinable emotion that he felt whenever he thought of Jessie with his half-brother as jealousy. Jealousy, pure and simple. Jealousy that twisted in his gut like a knife.
Frustrated by his conflicting thoughts and his mad, aching desire for a woman he couldn’t have, he sighed heavily then threw himself into the armchair before the fire. He would stay by Jessie’s bedside tonight. Even though he knew it was unlikely that she would run, given her injuries and the wild weather, he could not take that chance. Regardless of what she did or didn’t know about him, or what she might guess, he was now certain that he couldn’t let her go.
* * *
Simon stood before the drawing room window at Lochrose, watching the storm lash the castle grounds and the woodland beyond. Every now and again, lightning illuminated the loch and the brooding mounds of the surrounding braes. The night perfectly matched his own foul mood. His Jezebel had gone, was nowhere to be found. He’d given up the search for her about Lochrose when the bad weather had set in, late in the afternoon. Baird had been sent to Kilburn to look for the girl but had returned alone.
The Master Of Strathburn Page 8