by Highlanders - The Warriorand the Rose; The Forbidden Highlander; Rescued by the Highland Warrior
Jamie smiled at her. “I am certain you can come up with some explanation.” He lifted her hand to his mouth. “Now, we must go about our duties for the rest of the day.”
Then he said the words that sealed their plan in her heart.
“You have made me the happiest of men, Elizabeth. Your love gives me the courage to claim you as my own.”
His lips touched hers in a gentle kiss, one over much too soon and too tame for her taste in this invigorating moment. Jamie stepped away and waited for her to leave first. Her first paces were the hardest, but then the thrill of their plans and the hope for a future together lightened her feet and she found herself racing through the woods. Arms outstretched, she touched the branches and leaves as she passed them, laughing aloud with each step.
Soon, she reached her parents’ cottage and Elizabeth paused for a moment. She needed to gather some clothing and supplies and hide them outside. She needed to get back to the keep and attend to Ciara.
Ciara.
And she must deceive her best friend in order to steal Ciara’s betrothed....
It was going to be the longest day of her life.
CHAPTER THREE
THE MOONLIGHT LIT the unfamiliar path as James led the horse along it. He had walked this way several times since arriving here in Lairig Dubh, never dreaming that it would be his escape route. Though he understood all the dangers and the repercussions of the actions they took now, each step grew lighter and more decisive.
Glancing ahead and behind to make certain no one followed or knew of his plan, he made his way to the place they’d met before and held his breath. Staring into the shadows of the copse of trees, he watched as a slim figure moved and became visible to him.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered, as she drew closer. Her smaller hand slipped into his and he squeezed it. “I hoped... I hoped.”
At first glance, it appeared that she wore sensible garments, but as his gaze moved down to her legs now encased in a man’s trews, his body tightened in response. Had she any idea of the man he became around her? Or the effect she had on his ability to think logically? He was throwing aside his heritage, his name and possibly his life to have her and none of it worried him now that she was in his grasp.
“What now?” she whispered back.
“We must be on our way. With the full moon above and clear weather for once, we can be miles away before morning.”
He secured the bag she held to the saddle and then mounted. Holding his hand down to her, he helped her mount behind him. Once she had settled, and as he tried to ignore her legs against his, he urged the horse on with his knees.
James had studied maps of the area owned by Connor and drawn his own, planning a journey that would follow part of the same path they’d taken from the south. Once nearer to the coast, they would go east along the borders to reach the lands of a distant cousin, where they could stay while making plans. He had coin to buy what they needed along the way.
The silence of the night surrounded them as they rode farther and farther away from Lairig Dubh. Only the sound of the horse’s hooves along the beaten dirt path or the occasional night bird or owl broke the quiet. Each minute moved them further from their old life and toward their new one.
When the road changed pitch or angle, Elizabeth’s hands tightened around his waist, sometimes her fingers would grab hold of the fabric of his cloak. She shifted once or twice, bringing her more in contact with him, so close that he could feel her heart pounding against his back. Or mayhap that was his own? After riding for some time, James knew he needed to give Elizabeth a break.
He eased them to a slower pace and then let the horse walk a distance to cool down. Once he drew to a halt, he slid off and reached up to help Elizabeth down. His hands spanned her waist with ease, but the contact of her legs sliding down his made his grasp a tenuous one. When her face was level to his, he leaned in and kissed her. Her reaction surprised him, for she wrapped her arms and legs around him and opened to him. All manner of images filled his brain even as blood raced through his body, readying it to claim her.
This was not his intention when he stopped their journey, but, hell, she was his and she was in his arms. He slid his arms around her, holding her tightly against him while he savored the feel of her lovely curves. She was his and his alone. He tasted her deeply and took in the soft moan of pleasure that echoed in the silence around them. With each touch of their mouths, her hold on him and his on her tightened and their bodies melded in an imitation of how they would join their flesh. When a cold wind rustled the trees around them and reminded James of both the lateness and the miles yet ahead of them, he lifted his head and smiled at her.
“You tempt me to folly, lass,” he whispered as he eased her down to stand. “Clouds gather.” He nodded above to where the thickening clouds began to shroud the full moon...and its light. “If you can still ride, we should cover whatever distance we can before the weather breaks.”
“I can,” Elizabeth said. At first she glanced away but then she met his gaze once more. “You tempt me as well, James.”
For a man who’d planned to live his life by making practical choices and decisions, he’d given himself over to passion and desire’s control very quickly. Filled with anticipation of their future together, James reluctantly released her.
“See to your needs, Elizabeth. And then we’ll be on our way.”
“Where are we going?” she asked. “This looks like the road we took back from Perth.”
“It is. We’ll follow this until we reach the road that heads south to Glasgow. There is a small village near there...and a priest who will marry us.”
“How did you find it?” she asked, smiling at him in a way that warmed his heart.
“I noticed the village as we passed through it. When I decided I...we must elope, I asked about it.”
“Wasn’t that dangerous?”
“Lady MacLerie seemed very forthcoming in her suggestions.”
“The lady knows about us?” Elizabeth gasped. “About this?”
“Although I did not tell her specifically, but aye, I believe she knows what I planned to do. She spoke about a cousin of the earl’s who was married by a priest of the Old Church.” He smiled, now realizing how detailed the lady’s directions were to him. “No one knows anything about our plans—yet. I left a note behind to explain, but it will not be found until morning. So, we are safe for now.”
She nodded and turned from him then and he watched as her long legs, encased in and outlined by the trews she wore, carried her away from him. He might have even taken a step after her before he realized she needed some privacy. Laughing, he turned back and checked the saddle and bags tied in place, looking for some of the food he’d packed.
Elizabeth finished her task and found Jamie waiting for her where she’d left him. He held out a chunk of bread to her and she nodded her thanks as she took it. Her stomach had churned through most of the day, including the midday meal at the keep and the dinner that her mother had made, so it did not surprise her when it now grumbled with hunger.
“I did not eat much today,” she admitted to him. “I was too nervous after speaking to you.”
“Here, have this, too, then,” he said, holding out a small piece of yellow cheese and another chunk of bread. “You will need your strength.” Their gazes met as she thought about what was ahead of them. The guilty expression that filled his blue eyes told her they thought on different matters.
She accepted the proffered food without comment and ate it all. By the time she’d swallowed the last bite, he held out a skin of ale to her and she drank some. Then, he stored everything in their bags and mounted first. She grasped his hand and pulled herself up behind him, easing her body into position so as to not startle the horse. Elizabeth gathered her cloak around her and slid her arms around his waist to steady herself as they rode.
In truth, she liked riding like this.
She could embrace him, feeling the strength of h
is muscles beneath her hands and arms as they rode. With her legs pressed against his came a new awareness of heat between them. She’d shamelessly pilfered a pair of her brother’s trews, believing that it would be easier to travel unnoticed in them. She never considered the pleasure of holding Jamie between them.
As they crossed the miles through the night, she fell asleep against his back, clutching his cloak to hold on and enjoying the heat of his body against her. He even held onto her hands to keep her secure as they rode. They interrupted their journey for a few, brief stops—always seeing to their comfort and traveling on. Then, not long after the first light of dawn began to brighten the skies above, thunder echoed above them, warning of approaching storms.
The first drops of rain did not bother them, but as it turned into torrents, Jamie guided the horse to a slower and safer pace and finally brought them to a halt under a thick copse of trees. Even the meager shelter offered there was better than nothing and they waited a short time, hoping the rains would cease or at least ease up. Jamie helped her down and she shook the rain from her cloak as he did.
Gazing into the rain, she realized they were still on MacLerie lands, out in the western grazing lands used for their cattle. That meant...
“There,” she said, pointing up on the side of the mountain to the west of them. “A shieling.”
It was a crud hut, turf-roofed with a low foundation of stones, but it would keep them out of the worst of it. Because of the way it was built into the side of the mountain, it was not easily seen from where they stood. Jamie turned and sought out what she saw. He smiled and nodded.
“Just what we need for shelter from this storm.”
They decided it would be quicker to walk and guide the horse along the narrow path on the mountainside than to ride, so Elizabeth pulled her cloak over her head and around her to keep as much rain off as possible. By the time they reached the hut, she was drenched. Jamie led the horse to the side where the trees formed a shelter while she opened the door to the shieling. Elizabeth had to lean into it, for it was stuck from the elements and the age of it. She’d just pushed it open when Jamie joined her, bringing their bags and supplies with him.
Elizabeth ducked her head to enter through the low opening. The hut was small but clean. Though the drovers had long since taken the cattle to the markets in the south, the shieling was left stocked with some meager supplies—a jar of oats, another of flour and one of honey, a griddle pan, some battered metal cups, and some woolen blankets folded on a shelf. The MacLerie steward kept these shelters stocked and clean, and many times these places had saved lives when surprise winter storms moved through the mountains and caught his people outside.
A good thing for them right at this moment.
A quick glance showed the inside was dry, too, with only a small leak in one, easily avoidable corner of the shieling. Other than two low stools, it was empty of furnishings. She moved out of the way so Jamie could enter.
“Not our usual accommodations, but it will keep us dry for now,” he said, putting the bags down. “Here, let me have your cloak.”
She unfastened it and he lifted the sodden garment from her shoulders. Looking down at the rest of her, she wondered if he was shocked by the trews she wore. Her brother was much taller and larger than she, so she’d been forced to roll them up at the waist to pull the extra fabric into place. It had been years since she and Ciara had worn the scandalous trews, while running through the forests at play. Sliding her hands down onto her thighs, she realized they were soaked through as well. She shivered as the cold, wet fabric plastered itself to her skin.
Jamie had busied himself starting a fire in the small metal brazier after hanging her cloak and his on pegs next to the door. Proving himself quite self-sufficient for a nobleman, he then brought in some chopped blocks of peat to add to it. It would be smoky but would warm them and help dry their cloaks. Soon, the heat of the fire began to fill the hut.
“That should help,” he said, facing her. He frowned and shook his head. “You should change out of those wet clothes. I brought your bag in.”
He reached for her bag and discovered exactly what she knew would be true—the heavy fabric bag had absorbed as much water as the rest of her had and the gowns inside were wet. When he discovered their condition, he shrugged.
“Well, that is not a choice now, is it?” He pulled one of the blankets from the shelf and shook it out. “At least this will keep you warm while your garments dry.”
Now, shivers of another kind shot through her, as she considered undressing with him so close and watching. She knew it would come to that, once they married, or even before while yet on this journey, but was that to be now? Being as bold as she could, she reached out to take the blanket from him.
CHAPTER FOUR
JAMES WATCHED AS the uncertainty in her gaze changed and she reached out for the blanket he offered. He understood she’d only just comprehended that they were truly alone and truly well into this brave or foolhardy adventure. And accepted the way that it would end—with their marriage and her being bedded, well-bedded, before returning to their families. A lovely blush crept up into her fair-skinned cheeks and her mouth opened slightly as he smiled at her.
Only by taking vows and consummating them would she be protected by the claim of marriage. And whether the vows or the consummation would happen first was not something he’d thought much on...until now!
“Are you worried, Elizabeth? About what will happen between us?” he asked quietly.
Only the sound of the rain outside echoed around them. He had not considered that she would be afraid, not after her bold acceptance of his proposal and their elopement last night. But, her reputation would be ruined if his offer was not honorable. Did she know worry on that?
She let out of breath and sighed. Shaking her head, she turned her back to him and began untying the belt that held the trews up. He snatched up the blanket and held it around her, so she would not be chilled...or embarrassed. Though, truth be told, he wanted to see her naked. Naked and beneath him. Naked, covered only by the length of her brown hair.
James shook himself free of such thoughts, since there would be time enough for all of that, and turned his head away, staring instead at the door. He was not some untried youth who needed to pounce on the woman he wanted, especially since she would be his wife soon enough. And as his wife, they would have a long life ahead of them. So, how they started was an important step and one he would not stumble upon taking.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, as he avoided peeking over the curtain he formed with the blanket.
“A bit,” she said, taking the edges of the woolen covering and wrapping it around her shoulders. “I have some food in my bag as well. My mother made meat pies and there were several left. If you look in the bottom of the bag, they are wrapped.”
Searching for the meat pies kept him from staring at the lovely, enticing bare shoulders. Or the way she gathered up her wet garments and hung them from various places around the hut. Or the scent of her now-loosened hair as she eased past him and crouched closer to the heat of the peat fire. His hands fisted and relaxed as he reminded himself that he could control the growing desire for her. When the edge of the blanket slipped from her grasp and exposed the slope of her breasts, he sucked in a harsh breath through his clenched teeth.
Turning back his attention to finding the food, he found the pies and removed them, along with some other foodstuffs, and placed them on the shelf. He retrieved the supplies he’d pilfered from the MacLerie kitchen and added them, so they could see what they had and plan how and what they would need.
It would take them no more than one full day of riding to reach the split in the road and the village just beyond it. The priest Lady MacLerie spoke of lived just outside that village, serving the people in the area as a priest in the Old Church. But, until the rains eased and the dirt paths dried out, travel would be nigh to impossible. If they waited out the storms here, at least they woul
d be dry.
“Are you not wet, too?” Her soft voice broke into his moment of inattention.
He stopped himself from tearing loose his own trews and taking his shirt off. But only just, before facing her. A mischievous smile curled the edges of her mouth and her eyes twinkled. He tried to understand her expression—was this an invitation?
“A bit. But hungrier than wet,” he said, lifting one of the meat pies from the shelf and, having a care for any sauce that might drip from it, breaking it into two pieces. He offered her one and she approached him to get it. “As you must be?”
Her reply came in the form of action—she took the smaller half and bit into it, lapping the sauce from her lower lip before chewing. James watched her, fascinated by everything she did. If being tired, wet and hungry had not vanquished her good spirits, he wondered what would.
“Here, sit closer to the heat. You will never dry if you do not.” He pulled one of the stools nearer to the fire and stepped aside.
And he found himself praying both that the blanket around her would slip again and that it would stay in place. Elizabeth grasped the edges firmly as she sat down, arranging the heavy woven fabric around her. She finished the pie as he did, in only a few bites.
“Your mother is a good cook. I hope you have her skills.”
“I’ve learned at her side for years, though I would not suggest you try any bread that I bake,” she said, laughing softly. “That has long been my failure.” He eased himself down on the other stool, interested in learning more about this side of her.
“What is your favorite thing to make then? Pies like these? Or something sweet?” He had a weakness for the cakes and treats his family’s cook made. She blushed then and glanced away before trying to answer him. Now, he was even more curious!
“My father says that I make the best...heather ale of all the brewers in the Lairig Dubh.”
He leaned his head back and laughed. Not once had she mentioned such a thing during the times they’d talked. And he’d heard no inkling of her talent, but then he was betrothed to Ciara and most of the talk centered on her and her extensive—and rather formidable—skills and talents. Not on her shadow, Elizabeth, who’d grown up in the village and whose parents served the laird.