To Marry a Scottish Laird

by Lynsay Sands

  "Aye," Cam murmured and then grinned and added, "That or I was her favorite, Douglas her second favorite, and Aiden a pain in the arse she was happy to be rid of."

  "You are awful," Jo said on a laugh, lightly slapping his belly with one of the hands clasping him there.

  Her laugh definitely wasn't that of a boy. It was high and tinkling. He liked it, Cam thought, glancing down again at the hands splayed on his stomach. They rested low, just inches above--

  "I gather Douglas is your favorite brother then?" Jo asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  Cam shrugged. "We are closer in age, but . . ."

  "But?" she queried when he paused.

  "We have little in common," he admitted quietly and then explained, "Douglas is terribly serious and grim all the time, while I am not."

  "Hmm," she murmured, shifting against his back. " 'Tis usually the other way around. The eldest is usually more serious and the middle child less so."

  "Aye, and that is how it was when we were growing up," Cam admitted.

  "What happened?" Jo asked. "When did that change?"

  Cam squinted thoughtfully as he considered the question. He'd never really troubled himself to work that out. Now he did and wasn't sure he liked the answer to her question, but she was waiting for one, so, sighing heavily, he admitted, "After me wife's death."

  "Ah," she murmured.

  "Ah?" he asked, stiffening. "Ah what?"

  He felt her shrug against his back again. "Tragedy often changes people."

  Cam grunted, but felt dissatisfied, both with her words and the realization he'd just had. While growing up he had always taken his responsibilities and charges seriously. It had been hammered into him that he should, and so he'd been dutiful about everything, performing every task required of him . . . until his wife, Lacey, had died.

  Like him, Lacey had taken her duties seriously and had done all she was expected to without fail. Their marriage had been arranged while they'd both still been in swaddling. When their parents decided that it was time for that marriage to take place, they'd both accepted and gone into it without fuss or ado despite their being complete strangers. Lacey had dutifully welcomed him to her bed, if not eagerly, then with calm acceptance. She'd even got with child quickly, as was expected and carried the child without complaint right up until the day it had killed her. And that was when Cam had begun to throw off the shackles of duty.

  "What are your parents like?"

  Cam shook off his thoughts at that question and considered how to respond. "Me mother loves and frets o'er us all. She's a good woman."

  "And your father?"

  "He dotes on me mother. We all do," Cam answered and then urged his horse off the road, onto a barely visible trail through the woods.

  "Are we stopping?" Jo asked and he could feel her shifting behind him, her chest sliding against his back as she looked around.

  "Aye. 'Twill be dark soon, and I ken a good spot to stop just off the road. I ha'e camped there on other trips."

  "Oh," she said and relaxed against him, her hands slipping a little lower at his waist.

  Cam knew it was an unconscious move on her part. She probably wasn't aware her hands had dropped a bit, and certainly it wasn't as if they were anywhere they shouldn't be. He wasn't even sure why he was so aware of their position. He liked the girl, had liked her when he'd thought she was a boy too, but he wasn't attracted to her. At least he didn't think he was. True she smelled nice, he liked her laugh and he enjoyed talking to her, but he didn't even know what she looked like under all those bruises, so he couldn't be lusting after her. Could he?

  " 'Tis beautiful," Jo breathed as they broke out of the woods and into a clearing.

  "Aye," Cam agreed but with appreciation rather than the wonder she was experiencing. He'd been here before after all. But it was a truly beautiful spot. The trees had been cleared away as if someone had planned to build here. In the absence of trees, a field of knee high grass and wildflowers had grown and it was all beside a lovely waterfall that the river flowed over before meandering away toward the south.

  Once they reached the center of the clearing, Cam brought his mount to a halt and then twisted just a bit, ignoring the pain it caused and held his hand and lower arm out to Jo. He didn't have to say a word, she took his hand with one, and grabbed his forearm with the other and then held on as she swung herself off the horse and to the ground.

  "Thank you," she said with a nod and then turned to walk toward the water's edge as he dismounted.

  Once on his feet, Cam leaned his head against his mount and took a moment to let the pain the action had caused to ease. He then led his mount to a tree on the edge of the clearing and secured the reins to a branch before removing his bag, and Jo's. Setting them aside, he then started to unsaddle the beast, and brushed him down before turning to find the clearing empty. Cam frowned, but then realized that she had probably gone to find a secluded spot to take care of personal business and relaxed.

  It had been a long ride. They may not have got far because of the speed at which they'd been forced to travel, but they'd ridden from dawn until now, almost dusk. He needed to drain the dragon as well. Scooping up his bag and Jo's he headed back the way they'd ridden in. He didn't want to risk running into Jo and spoiling her secret after all. Besides, seeing her that way once had been enough. He didn't need another vision of her naked to keep him awake.

  JOAN LEANED FORWARD, TOOK A DEEP BREATH and lowered her face into the water again. She would have liked to take a dip to wash off the day's dust, but there was no time for that. Besides, it was still light out. She didn't want to be seen and recognized for the woman she was. The water was nice though, and felt soothing on her swollen face, so when she couldn't hold her breath any longer, she lifted her head, took another breath and dunked her head in the water again. Joan did that three more times before straightening and sitting back on her heels to let the water roll down her face and neck.

  It had been a good day, the best of this trip for her so far. It seemed her encounter with Toothless and his gang, while painful, had worked out for the best for her. This was the first day she hadn't been anxious and nervous from sunrise to sunset. Traveling alone, she'd had to be constantly on her guard. That hadn't been the case with Cam. She'd been able to relax a bit today and just enjoy the scenery and conversation. The combination had made the journey much more pleasant, and despite the fact that they had ridden slowly and probably hadn't got much further than she would have on foot, at least her feet and legs didn't ache. And Cam had promised to see her safely to MacKay so the rest of her travels were going to be this easy. All in all, what had started out the worst of days when Toothless and his gang had attacked her, had ended up being quite lucky.

  A rustling in the bushes behind her had Joan standing up with surprise and turning around. Her abrupt action must have startled the pheasant she'd apparently heard, because in the next moment one suddenly rose up out of a nearby bush and flew into the branches of the nearest tree. The sight made a slow smile stretch her lips, and this time, the pain was minimal. Her face was still misshapen with swelling and bruising, but it was a little better than it had been. At least it had seemed so in the wavering reflection she'd seen in the river water.

  Not that it really mattered at this point, she supposed. It wasn't as if she wanted to appear attractive to Cam or anything. After all, he thought she was a boy. Besides, she'd decided long ago that relationships and men were not for her. Getting mixed up with them was dangerous. She had no desire to die in the birthing bed as she'd seen so many women do. Every one of them had gone screaming, or exhausted from screaming if they lived long enough to push the baby out. Nay. She liked Cam, it was true, and yes he was certainly very attractive, but that was as far as it went.

  "And you are such a liar," she muttered under her breath. Joan was more than attracted to the man. She'd sat behind him on horseback all day, her arms around him, her face pressed to his back, smelling the woodsy scent
of him, and enjoying the caress of his soft hair against her cheek as the wind blew it back toward her.

  She definitely had an attraction to the man. It had started as she'd nursed him back to health those three days. While he apparently didn't recall it, Cam hadn't been incoherent the entire time, at least he hadn't been unconscious anyway. He'd been feverish but talking even then and she'd found him amusing and intelligent. An opinion that had only grown once his fever broke and he woke up. Their conversations last night and today had merely increased her liking and attraction to him.

  Joan supposed that meant she was lucky that he thought she was a boy. At least this way, he wouldn't be interested in a dalliance to pass the time. Not that he probably would anyway, considering how unattractive she was just now. Still, with both those little matters between them he wouldn't be interested and she wouldn't be tempted to do something stupid.

  Pushing these thoughts out of her head, she moved over to stand beneath the tree the pheasant had flown to. It had roosted on a branch about fifteen feet up. She peered at it briefly, imagining how good it would taste cooked over an open fire. The thought made her stomach rumble, reminding her that they hadn't eaten since the rabbit the night before. Joan rubbed her stomach and then glanced around her for a good-sized rock. Finding one that would suit, she retrieved a slingshot from the small bag she'd sewn inside the waistline of her braies.

  Joan had always been good with the slingshot. A natural talent her mother had claimed. She hit the bird in the head with the first shot and watched with satisfaction as it toppled off its roost and fell. Her satisfaction died abruptly, though, when the damned thing merely landed on the branch below the one it had been on and lay there.

  She waited, hoping that given a bit of time, the bird's weight might make it slip off the branch, but when that didn't happen, Joan heaved a sigh and moved to the tree to begin to climb. Never having climbed a tree before, she was surprised at how easy it was. It didn't seem to take long at all to climb up so that the branch the bird had flopped over was at her chest level. Joan reached for it then, but of course it was out of her reach. Quite a ways out of her reach.

  Joan debated the matter and then climbed up until she stood on the branch the bird was on. She then eased to sit on it and pressed her hands down on the branch and straightened her arms. The action lifted her behind enough that she could then swing to the side a bit until her hip bumped against her right wrist, then she lowered herself and performed the action again over and over until she had moved herself far enough along the branch that she could reach the bird.

  Smiling at the thought of the meal she was going to make for Cam that night, Joan picked up the bird and moved it to lie between herself and the trunk on the branch she was on. She then began to shift herself back the way she'd come. She was perhaps halfway back when the bird she'd thought she'd killed proved otherwise and suddenly fluttered and squawked beside her. Startled, Joan jerked, one hand slipping off the branch, and then she was falling. Crying out, she grabbed for something to stop her fall, and then cried out again as her head slammed into a branch. Pain radiated through her head, and then through her whole body as she crashed to the ground. Joan moaned as darkness claimed her.

  CAM WAS PACING THE CLEARING AND FRETTING over what was taking Jo so long when he heard her scream. He whirled in the direction he thought the sound had come from and by the time the second scream sounded, he was running. The problem was he had no idea where she was, and after the second scream there was nothing to lead him to her. Cam shouted her name several times, but got no response, and then simply had to search the underbrush and area along the river. He did so quickly and methodically, aware that the sun was on its downward journey and he had to find her before dark.

  Cam had been searching for what seemed like forever, growing more anxious by the moment when he glimpsed what looked like a bundle of cloth under a tree ahead. Eyes squinting, he moved slowly toward it, but then broke into a run when he recognized that it was Jo, lying on her back.

  "Jo?" he said, dropping to his knees beside her. When she moaned and turned her head, relief coursed through him like he'd never before experienced. Her eyes were still closed, but she was alive at least, and she was stirring.

  Bending, Cam scooped her up in his arms and straightened. The action brought her eyes open and she moaned again and winced as if the light bothered her.

  "Oh, my head," she muttered, turning to press her face against his chest.

  "What happened?" Cam asked, carrying her quickly back along the river toward the clearing.

  "I fell out of the tree," she admitted on a sigh, raising one hand weakly to the base of her skull. Wincing at her own touch, she pulled her hand away and Cam cursed when he saw the blood on her fingers.

  "What the devil were ye doing in the tree in the first place?" he asked sharply.

  "Trying to get a pheasant," she admitted, sounding weary. Jo blinked her eyes open to give him a wry smile as she explained, "I knocked it out with my slingshot. I thought it was dead, but when I started to come back down the tree with it, it woke up and startled me. I fell . . ." She shrugged and turned her face into his chest again. "Sorry, I guess we won't be having pheasant for supper as I'd hoped."

  "I'll find us supper. Ye should ha'e left it to me to begin with."

  "You are still healing," she began and then suddenly stiffened and turned her face to his, eyes popping open. "Damn. Put me down. You shouldn't be carrying me. You'll open your stitches. Put me down, Cam."

  "Me stitches are fine," he growled, tightening his arms around her and ignoring the pain in his back. "They will no' be fer long, though do ye no' stop squirming."

  Jo went still at once, but glared at him for his obstinacy. The sight made Cam smile. She looked so cute with her face all swollen and scrunched up like that. It made him think this must be what little evil elves must look like.

  "What are you smiling about?" she grumbled, turning her face away to see where they were.

  "Ye do no' want to know, la-ad," he stumbled over the word, barely catching himself from calling her lass. He'd have to be more careful about that, he supposed and shook his head as they reached the clearing.

  "Let me see your back," Jo said when he carried her to the river's edge and set her down to lean against a boulder there.

  " 'Tis fine," Cam assured her and turned to go find both their bags. He'd forgotten all about the damned things in his panic when he'd heard her scream. He should have hidden them the moment he'd taken them off the horse, he supposed and then shrugged the worry away. He'd found her, and the bags were still here which was fortunate since they needed her medicinals.

  "Tell me what I should do," Cam ordered as he returned.

  "You should show me your back," she said grimly. "I want to see the stitches and be sure you haven't pulled any of them."

  "They are fine," he repeated, dropping his bag at her feet and turning his attention to opening hers.

  "Then show me," she snapped, and then grabbed for her bag with annoyance. "Give me that."

  "Ye're bleeding," he said grimly and rifled quickly through the bag. Sadly, he didn't know a damned thing about healing, so in the end, merely removed a small swatch of linen and then handed her the sack and moved to the waterfall to stick the cloth under the icy running water. When he turned back, Jo was rifling through the bag herself, retrieving item after item. Cam ignored what she was doing and knelt beside her and reached for her head. "Let me see."

  "I am fine," she said sharply, jerking back from him and putting one hand to her hat as if to stop him from taking it off. That was when Cam recalled that there was a long mane of glorious hair hidden under the cap she wore. If he tried removing it, her secret would no longer be a secret.

  Cursing, he sat back on his heels and scowled. Let her think she kept her secret or tend her injury?

  "I am the healer. Why do you not go hunt us up some supper while I tend this?"

  The words were couched as a question,
but the tone was definitely an order. He had been dismissed, Cam realized, and found it amusing, considering that just moments ago she'd been demanding to see his back to ensure it was all right. It seemed that given a choice between ensuring he hadn't split his stitches and keeping her secret, keeping her secret won out.

  "Go on, away with you," Jo said, waving him away as if he were a pesky fly.

  Cam hesitated, but then nodded and stood. He would let her keep her secret for now. But he would keep an eye on her, and if she showed any signs of serious damage, he would be tending her himself, secret or no secret.

  "But I want to see those stitches when you return," she added fretfully as he strode out of the clearing as ordered.

  Cam merely grunted and continued until the woods closed around him, blocking him from view. He made a lot of noise as he moved through the brush to ensure she heard him leaving. But after he'd judged he'd gone far enough that she would think he was gone, Cam paused and made his way silently back. Head wounds were a nasty business, unpredictable at best, and he was determined to be sure she was all right before he would be willing to leave her alone for the amount of time it would take for him to scare up some dinner.

  Reaching a tree at the edge of the clearing, Cam stationed himself behind it and leaned to the side to peer at Jo. His noisy exit had apparently reassured her, for she already had her cap off. Cam hadn't been able to tell the color last night, since the sun had set and everything had been in shadow. Now he saw that it was a wave of fine spun gold.

  "Beautiful," he murmured, admiring the fair color until he noted the splotch of dark red just above and behind her ear. He scowled at the sight even as she covered it with the cloth he'd dampened at the waterfall.

  Cam watched for several moments as she cleaned and then explored the area blindly with her fingers. When the worry on her expression eased and she merely applied salve before carefully catching up her hair in the cap and returning it to her head, he relaxed and slid away. Cam still would have liked to see for himself that the wound wasn't a bad one, but he trusted her skills. Besides, she'd only cleaned the blood away once and hadn't had to do it again before applying the salve. That suggested the bleeding had stopped, which was a good thing.