The Magnificent Rogue

by Iris Johansen

  He smiled ironically. “I’ve noticed a certain lack of trust in me, but you seem to have no problem with Gavin.”

  “I truly like Gavin, but he can’t change what I am.” She went on eagerly, “But it was different with you last night. I really talked to you. You made me feel …” She stopped. She had sacrificed enough of her pride. If this was not enough, she could give no more.

  The only emotion she could identify in the multitude of expressions that flickered across his face was frustration. And there was something else, something darker, more intense. He threw up his hands. “All right, I’ll try.”

  Joy flooded through her. “Truly?”

  “My God, you’re obstinate.”

  “It’s the only way to keep what one has. If I hadn’t fought, you’d have walked away.”

  “I see.” She had the uneasy feeling he saw more than her words had portended. But she must accept this subtle intrusion of apprehension if she was to be fully accepted by him.

  “Do I have to make a solemn vow?” he asked with a quizzical lift of his brows.

  “Yes, please. Truly?” she persisted.

  “Truly.” Some of the exasperation left his face. “Satisfied?”

  “Yes, that’s all I want.”

  “Is it?” He smiled crookedly. “That’s not all I want.”

  The air between them was suddenly thick and hard to breathe, and Kate could feel the heat burn in her cheeks. She swallowed. “I’m sure you’ll get over that once you become accustomed to thinking of me differently.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You’ll see.” She smiled determinedly and quickly changed the subject. “Where is Gavin?”

  “In the kitchen fetching food for the trail.”

  “I’ll go find him and tell him you wish to leave at—”

  “In a moment.” He moved to stand in front of her, lifted the hood of her cape, and framed her face with a gesture that held a possessive intimacy. He looked down at her, holding her gaze. “This is not a wise thing. I don’t know how long I can stand this box you’ve put me in. All I can promise is that I’ll give you warning when I decide to break down the walls.”

  She stared up at him mesmerized, unable to tear her gaze away.

  “Do you understand?”

  She forced herself to step back, then turned and moved down the hall toward the kitchen. “You’ll change your mind once you realize how it would get in the way,” she tossed back over her shoulder with a touch of bravado. “I’ll be much better as a friend than just a woman for your bed.”

  “That premise is open to extensive debate, and one in which you’re not qualified to participate.” He opened the door. “Tell Gavin to give you something to eat while I go to the stable and get the horses.”

  He was wrong, she told herself. Everything would be fine once he became accustomed to her. Everything would be just the way it should be. She would dismiss this nagging unease and let herself be as happy as she had been when she awoke this morning.

  Gavin looked up when she walked into the kitchen. “Well, you look bright and rested. I’m glad to see it. You nigh scared me to death with your screaming.”

  She flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” he interrupted with a gentle smile. “It was clear her death was a cruel blow to you.”

  “It shouldn’t have been. I behaved most inappropriately.” She changed the subject. “Where is your kinsman?”

  “Asleep. Angus came back in the middle of the night, roaring and crowing with glee, and had to toast his cleverness with the rest of that bottle of whiskey I found.”

  “His journey was successful?”

  “Aye. Five lovely little mares and one stallion.” He set bread and cheese before her. “Eat. Robert wants to be gone from here. We’re too close to the border.”

  She picked up the piece of bread and began to nibble at it. “This hurry is all foolishness, you know. Even if anyone realized who I was, it would make no difference.”

  “That’s not what Robert thinks.” He sat down opposite her and crossed his legs at the ankle. “And he’s no fool. Do you suppose there’s a possibility he may even know more than a lass who had been buried in the country all her life?”

  She grinned and airily waved a hand. “A slight possibility.” Quickly, she finished the bread and cheese and got to her feet. “I’m ready. Let’s be on our way.”

  “Such eagerness.” He studied her. “I wouldn’t know you were the same lass as yesterday.”

  “I’m not. I feel different.”

  “How?”

  She wasn’t sure herself. It was difficult to separate and identify the elements of this strange, euphoric mood. It wasn’t only that she had won the battle with Robert. She felt free.… No, that wasn’t it. She had not felt a sense of liberty when Robert had turned up the collar of her cape. She had felt cosseted, guarded, and robbed of the responsibility she had felt all her life. It was as if a great burden had been lifted from her, and the lack of that load brought a giddy sense of exhilaration. She would probably not tolerate that cosseting for any length of time, but for now it brought a rare pleasure.

  She smiled brilliantly. “It’s hard to explain.” She turned and moved toward the door. “Let’s go. Robert is waiting.”

  They came within sight of the Grampians four days later. The mountains rose stark and wild in the distance, their crests wreathed in mist, the steep slopes only sparsely covered with vegetation.

  “Well?”

  She found Robert’s gaze fastened on her face.

  “They look … lonely.”

  “A curious word. I thought you would be more intimidated. Most people find our Highlands less than hospitable.”

  “What is that dark brown plant on the slopes? I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Because it grows principally in Scotland.” Robert smiled. “Heather has the good sense to gift us Scots with most of its beauty and bounty.”

  “Beauty?” Kate made a face as she looked at the scraggly growth. “It’s ugly.”

  “You think so? I’ll wager you change your mind.”

  She shook her head doubtfully. “And it looks prickly. How does it feel?”

  He chuckled as he shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself. You must have stopped a dozen times today to look at or touch something. I’ve never seen anyone as curious as you are.”

  “I just want to know things. I’ve never traveled before, and everything seems so … so new.” It was more than that, she thought. She herself felt new. It was as if everything within her was stretching, growing, reaching out to touch and see and be. There were still times when she would feel the old fear, tightness, and anger coming back, but those moments were coming more and more infrequently.

  “And I suppose you never displayed this trait before?”

  She made a face. “Well, Carolyn did say once that I was overly inquisitive. But that was after—Well, never mind. There’s nothing wrong with being interested in everything, is there?”

  For an instant she thought his expression held a hint of tenderness. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Then what bounty?”

  He frowned in puzzlement.

  “You said heather gave most of her bounty to Scots.”

  “Oh, heather serves a multitude of purposes. It feeds our souls and our senses and even our need for forgetfulness on occasion.” He shot a mischievous glance at Gavin. “Isn’t that true? I remember the night before we left Craighdhu, you imbibed so much of our heather ale that I doubt you remember anything about that leavetaking.”

  “You’re wrong. I remember playing the pipes and then you throwing me off the bridge into the moat.”

  “At least I kept everyone else from drowning you. You play the pipes only tolerably when sober; when drunk, you’re a disaster.”

  “I was going into battle. It was entirely suitable to play the pipes,” Gavin protested. “And it’s not kind o
f you to reveal my sins to Kate when I’ve been trying to convince her what a fine guide I’ll be on this rocky road of marriage she’s treading.”

  “Just as long as you don’t try to lead her after you’ve had a few cups of ale. I’d hate to be forced to pull both of you out of the moat.”

  She had never seen him like this, teasing, his expression alight with humor. She instinctively guided Rachel closer, to bask in that warmth. “I’m surprised you don’t think even drunkenness laudable if performed by a Scot.”

  “Excess is never laudable, but it’s understandable.”

  “As long as it’s done by the people of Craighdhu.”

  He laughed. “Aye, now you’re beginning to understand.”

  He was being so open, she decided to venture more. “And by you?”

  “I never indulge in heather ale.”

  “Why not?”

  “Good God, will your questions never cease?” He answered her just the same. “Because I always drink too deep.”

  He was drinking deep now, she realized suddenly. He was breathing in the cold air, tasting the flavors and scents of this place, this time. She suddenly wanted to reach out and touch him, join with all the other sensations that were surrounding him, feeding him. “Only of heather ale?”

  She knew at once the words were a mistake. She had desired only to draw closer, to find out more about him, but she had subtly shifted the delicate balance between them. He glanced at her, and something flickered in his face. “No, I have a tendency to embrace all excesses, and therefore must never tempt myself too strongly.” He kicked his horse into a gallop. “Let’s see if we can make a better time than this snail’s pace. God knows once we leave the Lowlands, that piebald will keep us creeping along.”

  She glanced back at Caird. The derogatory remark was not unjustified, but it was the first Robert had made since they had left Angus’s manor. “It’s not his fault,” she told Gavin, since Robert was now far ahead. “He’s doing his best.”

  “His best may not be good enough. We would have been deep in those mountains by this time if he hadn’t been along,” Gavin said. “And Robert’s right. Once we get higher, the thin air will slow him down even more. The mountains aren’t kind to the old or weak.”

  “Then we must be that much more kind ourselves.”

  Kindness. Her glance went back to Robert. He had been kind to her during these past days. He had answered her questions, he had been polite and courteous … and kind. It was not enough. She would just have to try harder to draw nearer to him, to find out everything about him so that she could make him give her the warmth and joy she had known that night. If she had not been so clumsy, she might have made a great stride today, but instead she had reminded him of that side of his nature she wanted him to forget.

  She would just have to try harder.

  “Pull your blanket up higher,” Robert said, his gaze on the girth he was repairing. “The wind is sharpening.”

  “I’m fine,” Kate said drowsily, her gaze on his hands. Beautiful hands, she thought, the long fingers clever and facile. She lifted her stare to his face. The planes of his cheek were hollowed in the firelight, his eyes narrowed as they focused on the leather.

  He put the girth down, pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders, and then picked up his work again. The action was done matter-of-factly, almost absently, but contentment rippled through her. Tucked beneath the falcon’s wings, she thought dreamily. It was a caring gesture, like one of a hundred he had made in the last two days. He still did not treat her with the same ease he did Gavin, but there was closeness and nurturing and sometimes even laughter. She was drawing nearer to Robert every day.

  “Did you like being a pirate?” she asked.

  “It had its interesting moments.”

  “Then will you do it again?”

  “I think not.”

  “Why not?”

  “There’s no need. I have enough gold for my purposes now.”

  “We needed the gold to expand our trade with Ireland, Kate,” Gavin said. “We needed warehouses and more ships.… Craighdhu is a hard land and will not support us.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Kate’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “From what you’ve both told me, I thought it must be paradise.”

  For a few minutes there was only the sound of the crackling fire. “Who is Malcolm?” she asked suddenly.

  Robert looked up in surprise.

  “Angus Gordon mentioned him, and you said—”

  “I remember the occasion, but I wasn’t sure you would. You were a trifle upset at the time.” He went back to his mending. “Sir Alec Malcolm of Kilgranne. Some of his lands border mine.”

  She frowned. “On Craighdhu?”

  “No, Craighdhu is an island, but our clan also has land on the mainland.”

  “Then he’s a Highlander?”

  “He was born a Highlander,” Robert explained.

  “He’s a greedy bastard,” Gavin put in from across the fire.

  Robert smiled. “Gavin has no liking for my cousin Alec.”

  “Another relation?”

  “I told you, we’re almost all bound by family ties.”

  “He’d like to sever that tie and your jugular with the same cut,” Gavin said bluntly. “You’re too lenient with him, Robert.”

  “I’m not lenient. I’m just as greedy as my dear cousin. If I kill Alec, then James will have an excuse to send his troops in to avenge his favorite and grab Craighdhu. If I wait for a more propitious time, I stand a chance to make peace with Alec’s son, Duncan. He’s not a bad lad.”

  “And keep Craighdhu safe,” Gavin added.

  Robert nodded. “And keep Craighdhu safe.”

  “If Alec lets you.” Gavin made a face. “There’s no telling what we’ll find when we reach home.”

  “Jock will not have let the island be breached.” He shrugged. “And any land Alec’s taken, we’ll just take back.”

  They were both so casual when speaking about blood and conquest, Kate thought, then realized with surprise that she was no longer shocked, as she had been at first. Had custom hardened her? “Wouldn’t that make James just as angry?”

  “Perhaps, but not enough to give him an excuse to march in and try to get it back for Alec. It’s all a balance that has to be struck.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You would if you’d ever met your dear brother.”

  “I’ve heard he’s not overpopular in Scotland.” She smiled, reminiscing. “When I was very little, I used to dream about James riding into the village one day, taking me away from Sebastian and carrying me off to live with him at his castle in Edinburgh.”

  “I assure you, James would have no family feelings toward you. His ambitions exceed even Malcolm’s.”

  “He wants more power?” She shook her head. “I wonder why, when he has so much already.”

  “Power can be a heady brew.”

  She thought about it. “I believe I can understand that.”

  “What?” Robert’s head lifted, and she heard Gavin’s indrawn breath.

  “It must be pleasant to have power. I think I would like it very much indeed.”

  “Then think again,” Robert said harshly. “Unless you have a desire to follow in your mother’s footsteps.”

  Her casual words had disturbed him, she realized with lazy amusement. Another sign that they were drawing closer. She wondered if she could provoke a further response. “I’ve always hated being helpless. It was like a bleeding sore when I was with Sebastian. And you like power yourself.” She softly quoted his own words, “ ‘The sweet prerogatives of power.’ ”

  “The prime prerogative of power is to use it in staying alive.”

  He was growing more intense by the moment over a subject that was blatantly ridiculous. She smiled teasingly. “But I’m not as unwise as my mother. I would never make the mistakes she did.”

  “Christ.”

  “She doesn’t mean it
, Robert,” Gavin said. “Can’t you see she’s joking?”

  “I’m not so sure.” Robert’s gaze drilled her own. “Are you joking, Kate?”

  She was suddenly not certain how much was jest and how much was truth. She had never thought about herself in connection with power. She had rejected the concept along with all of Sebastian’s other views, but now, in this moment of dreamlike contentment, the idea held a subtle allure. “It’s a terrible thing to be made to feel defenseless. I will never go back to that again. Yet I don’t believe I would want to be in the position of imposing my will on others. Sometimes my temper is unruly, and that would not be good.” She frowned, weighing the matter. “Unless I could learn to control my passions. And power would bring safety, wouldn’t it?”

  “Not for you. You say you’re not unwise, but you’re a thousand times more ignorant than Mary,” he bit out. “And you’re no match for James. Dammit, he could have stopped your mother from being beheaded.”

  Her eyes widened. “How?”

  “All he had to do was threaten to invade England if she was executed. Elizabeth wouldn’t have risked war to rid herself of a threat who was already her captive. Instead, when Mary was condemned to death by Parliament, all James did was send a weak protest.”

  “Perhaps he thought that would be enough.”

  Robert shook his head. “He wants to be king of England as well as Scotland. His mother stood in the way.”

  “Matricide?” she whispered.

  “In a fashion.” He held her gaze. “So don’t ever decide to throw yourself on his mercy. You pose almost as much of a threat as she did.”

  She shook her head doubtfully.

  “God’s blood, listen to me.”

  “All this talk of power and threats is without point. I have no claim to the throne.”

  “Elizabeth now rules England, yet the Catholics said she was illegitimate and had no claim to the throne because Henry broke from Rome for her mother, Anne Boleyn. Ambitious men twist facts to suit themselves and are ever looking for pawns to get what they want.”