Stuart, Elizabeth (18 page)

"I
like the girl in spite of who she is. I'd not see her hurt... even by my own
brother."

He
scowled at her wordlessly, then turned, drumming his fingers irritably against
the mantel.

"It'd
be easy for her to fall in love with you," Janet continued, picking her
words carefully. "In fact, I'd wager it's happened already. You can't make
her your mistress, Francis. She's not the type. Anne doesn't even know the
rules to these games you play." She paused, then finished softly.
"I'd not like to see you ruin her... or be ruined by her father."

"Oddsblood,
Janet!" Francis snapped, giving her a hard look. "You paint a pretty
picture of me. I don't believe I've ever been known as a seducer of innocent
virgins."

"I
mean no slander," she replied, returning his angry stare evenly, "but
I've seen the way you look at each other. I'm not such a fool that I don't know
what it means. Anne's a beautiful woman, but there are others just as bonny who
could easily fill your needs."

"Spare
me your sermons," Francis returned, flinging himself into a chair across
from hers. He crossed his long, muscular legs and scowled intently at one boot.
"I've no intention of harming the girl. The last thing I want is for Anne
to be hurt." A wrinkle of concern creased his brow. "Honestly, I'd
tell you if I knew, Janet, but I'm not certain of anything yet. I can promise
you this, though... I'll not make her my mistress though the temptation's
enough to break a stone. The cost to her might be too dear."

Janet
stared at him in amazement. Could he possibly desire something more than a
quick tumble with the girl? "Francis," she whispered, "you can't
be falling in love with her—not Glenkennon's daughter!"

He
grinned sheepishly before turning back to the well-studied boot. "I'd not
say that yet, but I'd no' be ruling it out either. Anne's different from the
other women I've known. I enjoy her company in a way I never thought to do... a
way I can't even explain."

"You'll
not jeopardize Jamie and the boys?" She stared at him, her large,
expressive eyes dark with fear.

Francis's
heavy brows lowered. "Jamie and the boys come first, Janet. You should
know better than to ask that! I'll get them back no matter the cost."
Taking her hand, he gripped her fingers painfully. "But is it wrong to
hope for some happiness for myself—to gamble everything if I deem it worth the
price?"

"Glenkennon
will destroy you, Francis. You'll be giving him just the excuse he needs!"
she began desperately. "Then the MacDonnells, the Camerons, and a host of
others will rally to you. Would you start another war with England and bring
about the ruin of us all?"

Francis
leaned back wearily in his chair, allowing Janet's hand to slide from his
grasp. "I hope it doesn't come to that. I'm not afraid of Glenkennon and
his mercenaries, but I'd not like to drag the clans to war." A vicious,
well-placed kick sent the three-legged stool beside him careening across the
floor. "Damn it, Janet... you know as well as I, if not Anne it'll be some
other matter that causes this pot to boil! Glenkennon will force a fight before
long."

Janet
bit her lip, studying her brother's troubled face. There was nothing she could
say; she knew his words were true.

She
recalled her own stormy courtship near fifteen years earlier and her love for a
man who was not her father's choice. Francis had helped her persuade their
father to the match. Rising from her chair, she moved to his side, placing a
comforting hand on his shoulder. "You know Jamie and I will be behind you
no matter what. And I'll warrant every other clan in these hills will side with
you should the earl force you to war."

He
caught her hand, pressing it tightly against his shoulder. "Thanks, sister
dear, I do hope you're right." Smiling, he unfolded his length from the
chair, the roguish gleam back in his eyes. "Don't fret, Janet. We've no
way of knowing if the lass will even have me. Donald says I've too dark a face
and rough a manner to interest any decent wench."

"I
don't doubt she'll have you. If Glenkennon doesn't have your head first."

"The
man will pay dearly if he tries," Francis said with a confident laugh.
"But no more of this dark talk. This is your last night at Camereigh.
Let's join the others."

***

Anne
was to look back on those carefree days as the happiest in her life. She
abandoned all worry and care into Francis's capable hands, trusting him to
solve the confusing riddle of her future. She had no idea how he would bring
about the miracle that would free her from her father, but she gave the matter
no further thought. Francis would see to it.

The
days swept by in an idyllic blur of companionable rides, romantic picnics, and
long walks beside the sea. Even the weather conspired to make the days seem
magical, for there was an unheard of stretch of golden days beneath a dazzling,
cloudless canopy of blue over Camereigh.

The
nights were even more unforgettable. The two ate together and played chess
beside the crackling fire; sometimes they talked for hours, ignoring the silent
servants and the knowing winks of Francis's clansmen. Lost in their own
enchantment, they even managed to overlook Donald's disapproving frown and the
worried looks he and Kate exchanged while they went about their duties.

Mindful
of his promise to Janet, Francis clapped a resolve of iron over his body,
restraining the powerful urge to take Anne's innocence and teach her the ways
of love. He spent many a sleepless night as a result, tossing and turning in
his lonely bed in a room so close to hers, cursing himself for creating his own
torture.

He
awoke early one morning after a restless night, his mind still fired with
images from the stirring dreams he had enjoyed. The thought of Anne lying
asleep down the hall was enough to drive the last vestige of sleep from his
brain. He tossed back the covers and got up, crossing the floor on well-muscled
legs to stand naked before the window in the predawn chill.

Just
what did he feel for the girl besides the desire to take her to bed? She would
come to him willingly. He sensed a slumbering passion in her that fanned the
flames of his own desire each time he took her in his arms. But there was more
than that, he mused, else he would have had her long before. She trusted him,
and he felt bound by some feeling that would not let him cause her harm. He
wanted...

He
drew a deep breath. What did he want? Struggling, he put his formless feelings
into thought. He wanted to love her—to keep her safe beside him... always.

An
inexplicable joy welled up inside him at the thought. He gazed out the window
at the shadowy countryside. The sunrise would be a glorious one, and he wanted
to share it with her.

In
the dim light, he fumbled into his clothing and hurried down the inky corridor.
Pausing outside Anne's door he listened, then slipped inside.

He
stood for a moment watching her sleep, a curious tenderness stealing over him
at the sight. Sitting gingerly on one side of the bed, he leaned down to press
a kiss against her lips.

Her
heavy lashes fluttered against the creamy alabaster of her cheek. Slowly her
eyes opened. She smiled at him sleepily in recognition, then sat up with a
start as she came fully awake. "What's amiss?" she asked sharply,
blue eyes wide with alarm.

"Nothing."
He placed a silencing finger over her lips. "Hush, love, or you'll wake
Kate, and that harridan will run me out on a broom."

"But
what are you doing here?" she asked, still befuddled by sleep.

"Why,
I came to see you," he teased. "Do I need another reason?"

Unmindful
of her scantily clad body, Anne slipped her arms around his neck and leaned
against him with a sigh, closing her eyes in contentment while he crushed her
against his chest. "It sounds like a perfectly good reason to me,"
she said sleepily, wondering if it had only been wishful thinking on her part,
or if he had really used the word "love" a moment before.

Francis
felt the soft swell of her breasts against him through the thin cloth of her
shift. Her arms clung trustingly about him and the intoxicating smell of her
rose up to fill his senses. He pressed his lips against the tempting hollow of
her throat, trailing moist kisses along her shoulder until he felt her quiver
in his arms. He eased her yielding body down onto the soft pillows, forgetting the
reason he had come.

In
the courtyard below, the clatter of a pail dropped by a sleepy servant brought
him back to his senses. The servants would soon be about the halls, and he had
best not be caught in Anne's room. Lifting his head with a sigh, he pushed a
silken strand of hair back from her flushed face. Capturing a willful curl, he
lifted it to his nostrils to inhale its heady fragrance.

Anne
belatedly drew the covers across her chest, amazed that she should feel so
comfortable with Francis beside her like this. "I fear your notions of
propriety seem strange to a poor English lass, m'lord. Back home I wasn't
allowed to speak to a man alone—much less entertain one in my bedchamber."
Her eyes twinkled. "I may like this Scotland of yours after all."

He
tweaked the curl, then gave her a wicked grin. "I'll have you know I've
behaved with every consideration of propriety. Janet threatened me with direst
consequences if I stepped beyond the line!"

"And
is this within the line?" she asked, indicating his reclining position
beside her on the bed.

"I
only came to invite you for a ride," he said, slipping to his feet.
"How was I to know you'd still be asleep on such a fine morning?" He
glanced toward the window where the glow of dawn lightened the sky. "If
you can be dressed and downstairs in the time it takes to saddle two horses, we
might still make Gull Point. Daybreak's an unbelievable sight up there."

She
was up and fumbling for her habit before his steps died away in the hall.

***

That
was but one perfect day among a dozen that swept by on swift, silent wings.
Anne lived for each moment, foolishly refusing to think about the future while
she basked in the warmth of her first love.

But
the spell could not last. Her serenity ended abruptly one afternoon as she sat
in a small glen studying the intricate design of a tiny, star-shaped wildflower
she had picked. Francis lay on his back beside her, one arm thrown lazily over
his eyes to shield them from the brilliance of the sun.

"Glenkennon's
coming tomorrow," he said, breaking the peaceful stillness of the day as a
stone tossed into a pool shatters the calm surface and ripples to the shore. It
took a moment for his words to sink in. Anne stared at him in surprise, dismay
written on her face.

"Don't
look so stricken," he said gently. "I've no intention of letting him
take you."

Still
she did not speak. She had ignored the thought of her father so long that this
abrupt reminder literally took her breath. Glenkennon coming—it couldn't be!

Francis
rolled onto his stomach, catching her hand in his. "Don't worry." He
grinned. "I'll not let him eat you."

"But
I didn't know you'd heard from him," she protested, finding her voice at
last.

"Oh,
I've had several messages, each more arrogant and impatient than the last.
We've arranged a prisoner exchange to our mutual satisfaction." He smiled
shrewdly. "What he doesn't know is that we plan to free his prisoners
tonight while they lie at Ginahea Castle. Come the morrow, the man will have
nothing to trade."

Anne
shredded the flower in wordless abstraction. Rising nervously, she moved away
across the clearing. She leaned her arms against the gnarled branch of a
spreading oak, staring into the greening forest. The shady depths of the
woodland seemed suddenly menacing.

"Why
didn't you tell me you'd heard from him? I... I'd almost forgotten."

"I
knew you'd have asked if you wanted to know, lass," Francis answered
softly. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself best not thinking about the
man."

She
nodded, acknowledging the truthfulness of his words. She had deliberately
refused to think about the future, hiding her head from every unpleasant
thought. Now it had come upon her with a vengeance. "Must you ride to
Ginahea tonight?" she asked, a new fear chilling her blood.

"No.
Donald made me think better of that plan. Unfortunately, my face is well known
in those parts, and my wretched size makes it difficult to avoid attention. One
glimpse of me and the whole place would be up in arms." He smiled at the
sigh of relief that escaped her.

Rising
quickly, he crossed the ground to her side. Catching her by the shoulders, he
shook her gently. "You must learn, lass, that raiding and stealing are a
part of life here. A man's not even considered a man until he's raided his
first horses. God grant you see me ride out on many a raid..." He lifted
her chin with a gentle hand and brushed a kiss across her lips. "... and
return to find you waiting here at Camereigh."

She
searched his face anxiously. "Are you sure the plan for tonight will
succeed?"