The Sinner

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The Sinner Page 8

by Margaret Mallory


  “I’ll wake ye when it’s time,” he said.

  He thought she could sleep? Between waiting for the Campbells to slice her throat and having Alex’s body wrapped around hers, that seemed an unlikely prospect. She lay wide awake listening to Alex’s breathing as the others settled down around the campfire. Despite Catherine’s complaints, the Campbell warriors had insisted that she make her bed far from the “strangers.”

  “They have two men keeping watch by the horses,” Alex whispered in her ear. “I’ll take them first and then come back for ye.”

  Before Glynis could say no, he was gone without a sound. How would he subdue both guards? And even if he managed that, surely he would startle the horses and wake the other men.

  What was she doing, waiting here to be murdered or worse?

  She nearly shrieked when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Alex squatting beside her. How had he returned so quickly? He put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to come with him.

  The snores and snorts of the sleeping men seemed unnaturally loud, as did every twig under her feet. With each step, she expected to hear a shout behind her. But the angels must have been watching over them, for none of the Campbell men awoke. When she and Alex were thirty yards from the camp, Glynis heard a horse’s neigh. In the darkness, she made out the outline of two horses. One of them nickered and trotted toward them.

  “Ah, Buttercup, there’s a good horse,” Alex said in a low voice, as he rubbed the horse’s forelock. The other horse followed and nudged Alex with its nose. “Now, don’t be jealous, Rosebud.”

  “Ye know these horses?” Glynis asked.

  “We just met,” Alex said. “’Tis a long journey overland from here to Edinburgh so we’re borrowing them from the Campbells.”

  “But if we steal their horses, they’ll be after us for sure.”

  “We should hurry,” Alex said in a calm voice, as he rubbed the second horse. “Do ye know how to ride?”

  The saints preserve her. “Aye, but—”

  Without waiting for her to finish, he lifted her up onto the horse, which was already saddled, and handed her the reins. “We can talk on the way.”

  “Which horse am I on?”

  “I named that one Rosebud,” he said, as he swung up on the other one. “Be good to her.”

  “I’ve never ridden in the dark before.”

  “We’ll ride slowly,” Alex said as he moved his horse into the lead. “Just give Rosebud her head, and you’ll be fine.”

  “What if the Campbells chase us?” she asked.

  “Their first duty is to get their chieftain’s sister safely to Inveraray, so they probably won’t,” Alex said over his shoulder. “And I scattered the other horses.”

  After what seemed like a couple of hours, Alex dismounted and led their horses across a creek. Then he lifted her down from her mount.

  “We’ll sleep here, where we’ll be hidden by these bushes,” he said.

  “Shouldn’t we get farther away?”

  “We have a good lead on the Campbells, and they won’t be able to look for their horses until daylight,” Alex said. “Besides, it’s dangerous to ride in the dark.”

  Dangerous to ride in the dark? Glynis stood with her arms crossed while Alex rolled out two blankets.

  “We must rest while we can,” he said, as he lay down on one of them. “We’ll need to be moving again at first light.”

  Glynis lay down on the other blanket, facing him.

  “Did ye sleep when the fishermen left us at their camp today?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “How did ye do that with the horses?” she asked.

  “I just have a way with horses,” he said in a fading voice. “I always have.”

  Just like he had a way with women.

  * * *

  “Time to be on our way,” Alex said after they ate their cold breakfast in the predawn light.

  He couldn’t understand why Glynis seemed surprised that he had collected the dried beef, cheese, and oatcakes from their boat before he got the horses last night. Did she want to go hungry?

  He was anxious to put more distance between them and the Campbells. There had been no point in worrying her last night, but he was not as certain as he pretended that none of the Campbells would follow them.

  Glynis rolled up the blankets and packed away the food while he saddled the horses.

  “Traveling across other clans’ lands is dangerous with just two of us,” Alex said, as he lifted her onto Rosebud’s back. “I don’t want ye out of my sight, understand?”

  Glynis fixed him with her serious gaze and nodded.

  They rode steadily for hours. Though Alex saw no one behind them, twice he had to quickly pull their horses off the path to avoid meeting other travelers. Because of Glynis, he couldn’t take any risks.

  To pass the time, he told her stories. Glynis liked the one about how Ian fell in love with his wife Sìleas best, judging by all the questions she asked.

  “Ian left her for five years after they wed?” she asked.

  “Ach, he didn’t take it well, being forced to say vows with a dirk at his back,” Alex said. “And he blamed Sìleas for it.”

  “I’m glad their story ended happily,” Glynis said with a soft smile.

  “Do ye need to stop and stretch your legs?” he asked, but she shook her head. “For a lass with a sour disposition, ye don’t complain much.”

  “It’s my stepmother who says I’m sour.” Glynis heaved a sigh. “And it’s true I do complain when she expects me to sit indoors doing needlework for hours.”

  “Well, ye are a fine traveling companion,” he told her. “Ye have several advantages over the ones I usually travel with.”

  “I do?”

  “For one thing, ye are prettier to look at than my cousins and Duncan,” he said. “And for another, ye haven’t heard all of my stories before.”

  On the other hand, if he were traveling with one of them, he wouldn’t have to dive off the path like a frightened Lowlander every time a group of warriors was headed their way.

  “Ye have a gift for storytelling,” Glynis said with a faint blush. “I wouldn’t mind if ye told them to me more than once.”

  “You’ll regret those words,” he said, and laughed. “We have a long journey ahead of us, and I’ve only got three days of stories.” Of course, Alex had a good many more that he couldn’t tell her.

  “Ye told me about Ian,” she said. “Will ye tell me about your friend Duncan next?”

  Why did she want to know about Duncan?

  “Duncan is a fierce warrior,” he said, after a moment. “I’ve never seen him beaten. Not once.”

  “I liked him,” she said. “He seems… dependable.”

  Alex stifled a groan. “Aye, Duncan is exceedingly dependable. He’s steady, never wavers. Decides what he wants and that’s that.”

  All the things that Alex was not.

  “There is a good deal of mystery about Duncan’s birth,” Alex said. “And some say a bit of magic.”

  “Ye must tell me,” Glynis said, turning wide eyes on him.

  “When Duncan’s mother was a lass of sixteen, she was stolen from the beach one day,” Alex said, settling into his story. “A year later, she was returned to the same beach with a babe in her arms. That babe was Duncan.”

  “Who took her?”

  “His mother never breathed a word—not about what happened, or where she’d been, or who the father of her child was.” Alex paused. “Eight years later, it all happened again.”

  “And she still hasn’t told?” Glynis was leaning so far out of her saddle that he feared she might fall off her horse.

  "She took her secret to the grave.”

  As they rode and he told his stories, Alex scanned the green hills sprinkled with summer flowers. The Campbell men should have turned back by now, but there were plenty of other dangerous men who traveled this trail through the mountains.r />
  “Who is it ye must meet in Edinburgh before the end of the month?”

  Alex winced. He had hoped she wasn’t listening when he mentioned that to Catherine.

  “Ah, I see this is a story ye don’t wish to tell me,” Glynis said, raising her eyebrows. “Of course, now it is the only one I wish to hear.”

  Alex rubbed his neck. He did not want to discuss the Countess or her letter with Glynis MacNeil.

  “So who would be waiting for Alex Bàn MacDonald in Edinburgh?” She tapped her finger on her chin—it was a very pretty chin. “Definitely a woman.”

  This lass, who was usually so serious, was teasing him. Alex might have enjoyed it for the sparkle in her eyes, if she had chosen a different subject.

  “This particular woman must have something special ye want,” Glynis said, narrowing her eyes. “Not the same ‘reward’ Lady Catherine was offering, since ye clearly don’t need to travel all the way to Edinburgh for that.”

  “All right, I’ll tell ye.” The tale he told about Sabine was short since he left out the bedding parts.

  “A countess,” Glynis said, and there was a harder edge to her wit now. “I suppose that is even more impressive than an earl’s daughter.”

  Alex never pretended to be other than what he was. Most women liked him, and he never cared much one way or the other whether they approved of him. And yet, it rankled like hell to have Glynis MacNeil think ill of him.

  * * *

  Glynis’s legs were so stiff when they finally stopped for the night that she could hardly walk. And yet, the hours had flown by. Alex Bàn MacDonald had a magical quality about him that she suspected drew females from age three to threescore. It wasn’t just his looks—though they were very fine indeed. When he was talking with you, he had a way of making you feel as if there was no one else in the world he’d rather be with.

  Glynis realized that she was following Alex around the camp like a puppy and stopped herself. While he took care of the horses, she gathered dry moss and twigs for a fire.

  “You’re a helpful lass.” Alex handed her the rolled blankets and squatted down to start the fire.

  Glynis looked down at the blankets in her arms. Last night, Alex had been exhausted after rowing most of the night before. But now, with Alex wide awake and charm flowing from him like honey, the placement of the blankets seemed to take on more importance. How far apart should she spread them? On opposite sides of the fire, or side by side?

  “Ye must be tired.” The glow of the sunset touched Alex’s hair as he smiled up at her. “Sit down, lass.”

  She dropped down on a rock. Holding the blankets to her chest, she looked about her to avoid looking at him. Alex had chosen a lovely spot next to a loch surrounded by hills.

  “In the morning, I’ll catch us fish for breakfast,” he said as he handed her dried meat and another oatcake. “We’ll make a quick meal of it tonight and get to bed.”

  The oatcake caught in her throat. He’d spoken as if both the meal and bed were activities they would share. Glynis took a big gulp from the flask of ale and told herself this was not a good time to remember how he’d kissed her against the castle wall.

  And yet, now that the memory had come into her head, there was no removing it.

  Alex tugged at the blankets in her lap, reminding her that she still had them. When he laid them out side by side, she took another swallow of the ale. Would she have the strength to resist him?

  A new question fluttered across her mind. Did she want to resist him?

  * * *

  Alex lay awake staring at the dark clouds moving against the darker sky and forced himself to think of his parents. Reliving their screaming battles in his head was his only hope for keeping his hands off the woman beside him.

  His cock, however, didn’t want to listen to reason.

  He knew damned well that Glynis did not want marriage any more than he did. And yet, she tried his will. Though she didn’t touch him, he could feel her leaning toward him in the darkness. Her desire vibrated through him. That made it damned difficult to keep his parents in his head.

  Ye cannot have this woman. Ye cannot have this woman. He chanted the words over and over to himself. He gave up on his parents and imagined swimming through icy cold water.

  Then he and Glynis were naked in a warm loch, with her hair streaming around them in the water …

  Alex shook his head. There were no warm lochs in Scotland. Ach, this journey to Edinburgh was going to kill him for certain.

  CHAPTER 13

  Alex called on every saint he could think of to give him strength. Three days and nights alone with Glynis—especially the nights—and he was losing his mind.

  He felt a prickle at the back of his neck again. He was so twitchy from unrelenting lust that he didn’t know if someone was on the trail behind them or if a flea was scratching itself a hundred miles away.

  “We’ll go off the trail here to make our camp,” he said, in case there truly was someone coming up behind them. He was glad it had begun to rain, for that would wash out their tracks.

  A short time later, he was cursing the weather. Only in the Highlands would it hail in mid-July. Now he’d have to make a lean-to for them to sleep under with one of their blankets—leaving them one blanket to share. The fairies were making mischief and laughing at him in their fairy hills.

  “I’ll look for dry moss to start a fire,” Glynis said.

  “No fire.”

  “But I’m freezing,” she said, clutching her cloak close about her.

  Alex refrained from suggesting the obvious method for two people to keep warm on a cold night.

  “There might be someone behind us on the trail,” he said. “’Tis nothing to worry about, but we’ll wait until morning to build a fire.”

  The icy pellets caught in her hair as Glynis helped him tie two corners of the blanket to a tree and stake the other corners to the ground with sticks.

  “Duck inside while I take care of the horses,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  The wind was picking up as he led Rosebud and Buttercup into the brush by the creek that ran along the base of the valley.

  A mix of hail and icy rain pelted his face as he hurried back to check on Glynis. When he crawled inside their makeshift lean-to, he found her shivering so hard that her teeth were chattering. Alex swore he could hear the fairies laughing as he put his arms around her and rubbed her back. The scent of her hair filled his nose. How could a woman smell so good after a long day of riding? He forced himself to release her as soon as she stopped shivering.

  He opened the bag with their dwindling supply of food. “I’m afraid it’s dried beef and oatcakes again.”

  “It tastes wonderful,” Glynis said, ripping a hunk of the meat off with her teeth.

  She ate with an enthusiasm that had him imagining her other appetites. Lord above, sleeping in such close quarters with her was going to make this an even longer night than the others.

  “Have some ale,” he said, handing her the flask. Ach, he needed whiskey.

  “This is bound to put me right to sleep,” she said with a smile, as she handed it back.

  There was only one thing that would put him to sleep. Laying her back on the blanket and making love to her two or three times.

  “We had a long day of riding,” she said.

  He took a long pull from the flask, his mind on another kind of riding.

  “I haven’t thanked ye properly for all you’ve done for me.” When she lowered her eyes, her eyelashes fanned against her cheekbones. It was a reflection of the state he was in that he found this unbearably arousing.

  “Thank ye for bringing me with ye even though ye didn’t want to, and for helping me escape Duart Castle without being caught. And for remembering the food and blankets, and stealing the horses, and telling me stories, and keeping me safe… and… for everything.”

  Alex heard the hesitation in her voice but didn’t know what it meant. He cursed himse
lf for hoping she was getting up her courage to suggest they make love until neither of them could walk.

  “Well, good night then.” She lay down abruptly and curled herself into a ball.

  The storm made it seem later than it was, and Alex wasn’t tired. In the dimming light, he watched the rise and fall of her chest. He took another long drink of the ale, wishing again he had something stronger.

  A sigh escaped him as he unfolded himself and felt the heat of her body along his side. He stared at the blanket strung above them, bouncing in the wind. Until the last few nights, had he ever slept beside a woman without making love to her first? Nay, he was quite certain he had never suffered this particular form of torture before.

  He was so hard that if Glynis breathed on him he might explode.

  “I’m freezing,” she said, and huddled closer to his side.

  Alex gritted his teeth and pulled her into his arms. When she rested her head on his chest, he lay still and tense, trying to control his breathing. For the hundredth time, he reminded himself that he never bedded virtuous women—especially unmarried ones—and it would be wrong to take advantage of the situation.

  And yet, desire, dark and twisted, tested his will like the storm pounding against their fragile shelter. He wanted her deeply, and he wanted her now.

  He wanted to bury his face in her hair and taste the salt of her skin on his tongue. To roll her on her back and feel her long legs wrapped around him as he buried himself inside her. Now. Now. Now.

  Though Alex wished he could pretend otherwise, this throbbing lust was for Glynis alone, and only she could slake it. Her intensity drew him; her seriousness challenged him. He wanted to shatter her self-control, to set a torch to her steady calm, and to hear her cry his name as she turned into liquid fire beneath him.

  When she rolled to her side, he rolled with her, desire pulling him as if she were a lodestone. Tension curled in his gut as he breathed in the fragrance of heather and pine in her hair. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rested his hand lightly on her hip.

  The storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest raging inside him. After all the women who had come so easy, it was as if a special hell had been devised just for him, trapping him under this small lean-to with a woman he could not have.

 

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