Henrietta stared at him as if stunned, distressed that he should be a witness to her undignified position. As if through a haze it came to her that she should be angry at his intrusion, but before that urging took some direction, he casually relinquished his stance and, undeterred by her discomfiture, sauntered to the foot of the bath. Watching him, uncertain and silent, it was this action that caused panic and fear to course through Henrietta. Suddenly she felt intimidated and vulnerable. Her eyes opened wide in alarm. Had it been anyone else she would have screamed, but this was Simon and she knew she was not about to be cruelly ravished.
His gaze never wavered from her, but when it dipped downwards, she saw the light that flared in his eyes, making her conscious of her lack of modesty. Immediately the alarm she had felt vanished and she slid further beneath the suds and glowered up at him.
‘How long have you been standing there watching me?’ she demanded.
A slow smile touched his lips. ‘Long enough to come to the conclusion that you were worth bringing all this way.’
‘You should have made your presence known to me.’
‘What! And deprive myself of the pleasure of watching you?’ he murmured softly.
The warmth of his tone brought the heat creeping into her cheeks. Disturbed by his perusal and quite put out that he had been silently watching her and had made no effort to alert her to his presence, as if instructing an errant student slow to learn, she pronounced her words carefully. ‘Simon, I would appreciate it immensely if you would leave me to wash away the grime of the journey. I feel as though I’ve been dragged through a swamp. Going without a bath on the journey was extremely tortuous for me, to say the least. I appreciate being clean more than I ever gave heed to before, which is why I shall enjoy a lengthy soak.’
‘You were asleep. You looked so content, how could I disturb such a blissful state?’
Henrietta was in no mood for games. ‘Well, you did. It is highly improper for you to intrude on my privacy. Do you make a habit of entering a lady’s bathing chamber?’ she asked in shocked tones, although she was so exhausted she didn’t really care what he did. She stared at him, unconscious of the vision she presented as her short hair was beginning to dry and curl in soft, feathery wisps.
‘That depends on the lady.’ As he remembered the discomfort she had experienced on the journey, his expression became one of concern. ‘I imagine the warm water comes as a welcome relief after the hard ride. Let me remind you again of the salve I mentioned.’ The barest hint of a grin defied that predominantly sombre visage. ‘I’d be happy to apply it to your...sore bits myself if you wish. It will soothe the redness.’
‘I think your housekeeper is already frowning on my being here with you alone, it not being proper, you understand, so I doubt you offering to apply salve to my...sore bits, would go down at all well.’
‘And why not?’ Simon questioned curtly. When he had no other purpose in mind but to help her, he could find little sympathy for her views on propriety. ‘You need somewhere to stay and be looked after. Being here with a houseful of servants isn’t going to jeopardise your virtue and I’m not about to throw your skirts up and have my way with you. Believe me, Henrietta, you’ll know it if I ever set my mind to compromising your modesty, because I won’t start with your sore bits.’ His eyes drifted to her bosom, as if pointedly denoting the place he’d begin and then just as quickly rose to meet her astonished stare.
Henrietta’s jaw dropped open and then she closed it quickly. It certainly didn’t help her composure to feel scalding heat creeping into her cheeks. Self-consciously she crossed her arms over her breasts. ‘I assure you, Simon, that concern for my virtue was the furthest thing from my mind—and I’ll keep my sore bits to myself, if you don’t mind.’
A brief twitch served as a substitute for a smile. ‘If you decide otherwise, Henrietta, I’ll be happy to accommodate you—without compromising your virtue.’
‘No, thank you. Now go away. I am sure you have seen enough to appease your ardour.’
Simon’s teeth flashed like a pirate’s in his swarthy face. Settling his hands on his hips, he slowly advanced towards her, the torment of wanting to see more of her almost unbearable. ‘Indeed, you are extremely fair to look upon. My eyes have not seen nearly enough and ache to see more.’
Something in his expression made Henrietta shrink back. She was conscious of his height and how his mere presence seemed to fill the confined space. Because he was fully dressed, she was extremely conscious of her own nakedness and was also conscious and alarmed that she was stirred by his masculinity. But she refused to surrender to the call of her blood and crushed these treacherous feelings that threatened to weaken her. Glaring at him, her eyes were vibrant and burning with ire and indignation.
‘Don’t you dare lay a hand on me, Simon Tremain. Come any closer and I swear I shall scream the house down.’
Simon’s bold gaze continued to openly rake her body but, recognising the merits of restraint, he checked himself and advanced no further. His eyes passed over her with warm admiration. She sat low in the tub like a limp rag doll. Her arms were crossed over her chest to hide her breasts from him, even though they were submerged beneath the suds. His experience with the fair sex could not truthfully be termed lacking, yet it was hard in his mind that this delectable creature he had thought was a precocious lad, whom he now scrutinised so carefully, far exceeded anything he could call to mind, whether here or across the water in France. There was a graceful naiveté about her that totally intrigued him.
Bending down to her, he reached out his hand and gently cupped her chin, turning her face up to his. Now the grime had been washed away he studied her with fresh eyes. Feeling compelled and at liberty to look his fill, he felt his heart contract, not having grasped the full reality of her loveliness until that moment. The cropped, red-gold hair framed a creamy-skinned visage. The lips were soft and sensuous. She was remarkably lovely. Her beauty was at once wild and delicate—as dainty as sculpted porcelain, her expression full of caprice. But as he watched her, what struck him most was her innocence. Though her slanting, sparkling green eyes fringed by thick, black lashes hinted at untapped wantonness, he could feel the freshness of her spirit—a tangible force as golden as the highlights in her hair. She was the kind of woman who made a man want to fall on his knees at her feet or run like the devil.
His scorching perusal suddenly became too much for Henrietta. Hot, embarrassed colour stained her cheeks as he met her gaze with a querying, uplifted brow.
‘I would be obliged if you would please stop looking at me in that way. Anyone would think you hadn’t seen a woman before. Your critical eye pares and inspects me as if I was a body on a dissecting slab.’
‘Does it?’ Simon murmured absently, continuing to look at her, at the soft lips and glorious eyes.
Her flush deepened. ‘I have imperfections enough without you looking for more. Please stop it,’ she demanded quietly. ‘You are being rude.’
‘Am I?’ he said, his attention momentarily diverted from her enchanting face.
‘Yes. And if you persist I shall be forced to shout for Annie.’
Her words brought a slow, teasing smile to his lips and his strongly marked brows were slightly raised, his eyes suddenly glowing with humour. ‘I apologise. But I cannot help looking at you when for the past nine days I believed we were of the same gender.’
Hot-faced and perplexed, Henrietta almost retorted that she was not a rabbit in the sights of his gun, but she halted herself in time. She had never known a man to be so provoking. She was suddenly shy of him. There was something in his eyes that made her feel it was impossible to look at him. There was also something in his voice that brought so many new and conflicting themes in her heart and mind that she did not know how to speak to him.
The effect was a combination of fright and excitement and s
he must put an end to it. She was in danger of becoming hypnotised by that silken voice and those mesmerising blue eyes.
‘Are you quite sure I can’t assist you with your bath?’
‘Quite sure,’ she stated. ‘Now go away.’
A chuckle started low in his chest. ‘I should have given you a bath when I first met you.’ Releasing her chin, he straightened up. ‘Come, enough wallowing in the suds. I’ve brought you a toddy. Drink it and I’ll send Annie in to help you get dressed.’
‘I’ve a mind to wallow a while longer,’ she answered in a voice dull with fatigue. ‘Could you pour that pitcher of warm water into my bath, please?’ she asked, indicating the receptacle on the floor where Annie had left it. She squinted up at him as tiny runnels trickled through her lashes. ‘I would like to give my hair another wash.’
Simon did as she bade and poured the water into the tub, catching a glimpse of slender white limbs beneath the suds.
‘Be careful you don’t burn yourself,’ Henrietta patronisingly retorted when some of the water splashed his dry breeches.
‘I must learn to be cautious of wayward lads and pitchers of hot water,’ he answered, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her remark.
He watched her rub an eye with bunched fingers, much like a child who found it hard to stay awake. ‘Are you quite certain I can’t be of some assistance?’ he persisted, his voice as soft as silk.
Henrietta felt a sudden quiver run through her, a sudden quickening within as if something came to life, something that had been asleep before. ‘No—thank you,’ she replied quickly. ‘I think I can manage. Now go away and leave me alone. I will not get out until you have left the room.’
‘I’ll not be far away.’ A wicked smile crept over his lips. ‘Don’t disappoint me, Henrietta,’ he murmured, his eyes agleam with a very personal sort of challenge. ‘Don’t tell me you’re going to start behaving sensibly now.’
Henrietta stiffened at Simon’s smooth taunting, but she could hardly take offence at his mild accusation after duping him into believing she was a youth.
As he was about to slip behind the screen he turned and looked at her once more. ‘If I don’t see you again tonight, I must warn you that the old timbers creak and groan, so don’t be alarmed if you hear anything untoward during the night. The house is called Barradine, by the way, and it belongs to me.’
With his gaze looking into her large, liquid, bright eyes, she was oblivious to the sight she presented to him. The pure, sweet bliss of her spurred his heart. She was too damned lovely to be true and he could not believe that he had not seen through her masquerade. Her cheeks were rosy from the heat of the bath, and her hair—all the wonderful shades of red and gold formed a cap of brilliant silk curls, with adorable damp tendrils clinging and curling around her face. The very sight of her wrenched his vitals in a painful knot, and the urge to go to her and pull her into his arms savaged his restraint. If she knew the full force of that emotion he held in check, she would tremble and take to the road on the morrow without him.
‘Sleep well, Henrietta. We have much to discuss in the morning.’
* * *
Henrietta’s eyelids fluttered slowly open as the morning light intruded and roused her to awareness. The dark blue velvet bed hangings had been drawn back, allowing the light to penetrate her world. A cheerful fire crackled and danced in the hearth.
Henrietta elbowed herself up the bed and tucked the pillows behind her. A rattle of dishes came from outside the door, and she clutched the sheets beneath her chin as Annie entered the chamber, carrying a covered tray. Her face broke into a smile when she found the occupant of the bed awake and sitting up.
‘Oh, you’re awake, I see.’ The friendliness in her voice was as noticeable as the warmth in her eyes and smile. ‘His lordship said you would be tired after the journey and your ordeal in the storm yesterday and to leave you to sleep in.’
‘His lordship being Lord Tremain.’
‘Aye, miss. That’s right.’ Annie brought the tray to the bed and removed the cover to reveal a pot of tea and an appetising plate of ham and eggs and freshly baked bread and creamy butter. ‘You look like a young lady who could do with a hearty breakfast. You ate nothing when you arrived, so tuck in and enjoy it.’
‘I will. It looks delicious, Annie. I have to say I’m quite ravenous.’
‘Eat up then. I’ll see to it that hot water is brought for you to wash and I’ve already laid out the clothes the master has provided.’
‘But—what has happened to the clothes I was wearing when I arrived?’
‘They’re in the laundry, miss.’
‘I see,’ Henrietta murmured cautiously, casting a dubious eye over the female clothes draped over a chair. ‘I—I would prefer to wear my own clothes if you don’t mind, Annie.’
‘Oh, no, miss. The master was most firm about you dressing as a lady. When you’re ready I’ll come and help you.’
‘Thank you,’ Henrietta conceded, reconciling herself to the master’s orders. ‘Then until my own clothes are fit to wear, I shall be happy to wear them.’
‘That’s good,’ Annie said, still smiling as she went out.
* * *
When she had eaten, hearing the clatter of horses’ hooves on the cobbles in the yard below her window, Henrietta went to look. There were half a dozen gentlemen, all finely garbed, all on horseback and wearing expressions of intent. Where they came from Henrietta did not know, but they entered Barradine with a purpose. It was all very mysterious and as usual Henrietta’s curiosity got the better of her.
She turned her attention to the clothes laid out, surprised to find them remarkably grand. The undergarments were very fine, the gown apple-green damask trimmed at the hem with gold embroidery. A light grey shawl and a pair of dark green slippers completed the outfit.
Her pleasure as she donned the dress was truly feminine. Before leaving the room she looked in the mirror and contemplated herself with some satisfaction. The dress might have been made for her. The bodice sat well on her slender waist and the colour emphasised the gold highlights in her hair. Draping the shawl about her shoulders, she pirouetted lightly and made for the door.
She moved silently along the passageway to the top of the stairs, where she paused, standing in the shadows and looking down. The men were huddled together near the huge stone hearth, their worried looks and urgent conversation presaging some bad news. It had been declared that Charles Stuart, the son of the man James Stuart, who had named him Regent, giving him permission to act in his name, had been declared a rebel, a traitor, and a public enemy to the Commonwealth and of England, along with the abettors, agents and accomplices and public enemies.
‘What do you make of it?’ Simon asked from within their midst. ‘Tell me what you know. Will it come to a battle?’
‘Aye, I reckon it will,’ was one answer. ‘Against long odds and with the support of Donald Cameron of Lochiel, an army has been raised which numbers almost two thousand Scots. Sir John Cope, the general commanding the government forces in Scotland, commands less than four thousand in two regiments. He’s beset with problems.’
‘Which are?’
‘His senior cavalry officer has taken sick and he has a lack of gunners to man his artillery. Acting on advice from the government, Cope marched with his infantry to Fort Augustus in an attempt to overawe the Highland clans and nip any rebellion in the bud.’
‘And how have the clans reacted?’ Henrietta heard Simon ask.
‘Many are evading calls to take up arms on behalf of the government. Our agents have reported that on hearing Charles Stuart is preparing to oppose Cope at Corryarrack, Cope’s turned about and is now marching on Inverness.’
‘And the prince?’
‘He considered pursuing Cope, but instead he’s decided to march into the Lowlands,
which Cope has left almost undefended. The last I heard was that he’s reached Perth.’
‘Then I’ll know where to find him when I ride north.’ He looked around at the faces of the men. ‘What will you do if it comes to conflict? Will you take up arms against King George?’
‘It’s not that I mind risking my life,’ said the man who had done most of the talking. ‘But if we fail and are captured, they will take my house and land, and I’ll not be there to protect my family.’
‘It’s the same for all of us,’ came a gruff reply. ‘But if we don’t do it now, the opportunity to bring the Bonnie Prince to his rightful place may never come again.’
‘Then let’s pray the conflict ends with Charles on the throne and it doesn’t come to such a pass.’
Henrietta stood in the shadows as the men began to disperse. She felt numb and then consumed by panic, as her mind went over what had been said. If, as she intended, she continued on her journey to Inverness, then it was inevitable that she would come into contact with the government army.
* * *
The big case clock in the great hall was striking ten o’clock when she went down the curved oak stairs. Glancing at the windows, she saw the heavy clouds loitering overhead heralded more rain. Simon stood close to the hearth where a fire blazed, taking off the dank chill. In repose his expression was tense as he considered the information brought to him earlier.
Displaying a calm she did not feel, Henrietta studied him surreptitiously as he watched her walk across the hall towards him. A world of feelings flashed for an instant across his set features when their eyes locked, but it was the expression of immense concern Henrietta saw that touched her the most, replaced at once by one of polite enquiry. His long, muscular frame was attired in the clothes he had been wearing the night before. He had the look of an adventurer and appeared most worldly, yet his whole body was tensed into a rigid line, as if he fought some private battle within himself.
Despite the days they had spent on the road together, it was like coming face to face with a stranger. Now her masquerade had been stripped away their attitudes towards each other had changed completely and it concerned her, especially when those thoroughly blue eyes searched her own. She had not realised how brilliant and clear they were. In some mystical way they seemed capable of stripping the lies from whatever had passed before. It was all she could do to face his unspoken challenge and not retreat to the safety of her room.
Harlequin Historical May 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Unwed and UnrepentantReturn of the Prodigal GilvryA Traitor's Touch Page 52