A Lesson in Passion (9 page)

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The next morning Ginny woke up with that
uncomfortable feeling of wondering where she was. In this case, it
was also when she was, but first things first. It was still dark,
she was having a wonderful dream about being warm on the beach,
when she was shaken awake. Opening her eyes, she immediately went
on the defensive and started to yell. A giant hand covered her
mouth and a disembodied voice stated, “Calm down, it is just me.”
The Scottish burr reminded her of all that had transpired in the
less than twenty-four hours since she arrived here.

It was cold and damp outside as she slid from
the tent. Her eyes could barely make out anything, since the
moonlight was now covered over with clouds and there was a light
drizzle coming down. It was a miserable feeling being cold and wet
and half asleep. Add to that the fact that she was in a different
time and strange place, and it was nearly unbearable. Ginny kept
her hopes up for a better day.

“Ian, where can I... uh...” Ginny
was at a loss for words. Obviously, there were no bathrooms, but as
far as she could see, there wasn't anywhere she could go to be
private. Although she barely drank anything, she needed to go
badly.

“What is it?” Ian asked with no
shortage of contempt.

“Where might I relieve myself?” she
asked, embarrassment forgotten, when she heard his tone.

Suddenly, Ian felt bad. He knew he sounded
surly, but after spending a sleepless night, frustrated and denied,
he was bad company for anyone. Obviously, Lady Chatham was
desperate. He endeavored to be more kind.

“Ya may go behind the tent. I will
make sure that no one disturbs ya,” he said as gently as
possible.

Ginny sensed the change and was immediately
leery. Ian had been almost entirely grumpy to her and now he
sounded nice. She knew she shouldn't look a gift horse in the
mouth, but she had to wonder what he was up to. Trying to remember
the romance novel rules, she considered that maybe he was just in a
bad mood, just like she was, and he was trying to behave better. Of
course, she wouldn't take it that way, as the heroine, and it would
lead to some misunderstanding. Better to just take it for what it
was, a kindness.

“Thank you, Laird. I'll only be a
few minutes.” Ginny ducked behind the tent and went about trying to
urinate while squatting on open ground. Truth was, Ginny was never
a “pee in the woods” kind of girl. The few times she went camping
she insisted on facilities. She could live without a shower for a
couple of days, but did not like using the world as her toilet.
Fortunately, she wasn't wearing any panties to get in the way.
After a few frustrating minutes, and some near misses with her only
clothing, she finally came out from behind the tent. Thankfully,
she could not see Ian to tell how angry he was for her taking so
long.

“Ya'll be riding with me today. Ya
might want to get some water and a bit of something to eat before
we leave,” damn if he wasn't sounding surly again.

“Where can I get some food?” Ginny
kept her voice even, since she wasn't in the mood for an
argument.

Ian gave an exasperated
sigh.
How much trouble would this girl
be?
he thought to himself as he led her
towards one of the fires. There, one of his men was making oat
cakes.
This might be a first for
her
, he thought more merrily than
earlier.

The warrior, a man named Duncan, happily
invited her to sit down with him. He handed her a cask to drink
from, filled with weak ale. He was regaling her with stories of his
life and skill. Duncan told her that he was unmarried and did not
have the same prejudices against the English as the rest of his
clan. Ginny could do nothing but smile. She thought he looked
awfully young, but knew that she was probably pretty young looking
too.

Ian noticed the two from across the
camp, laughing and flirting. His jaw clenched at the sight.
What is that boy doing?
he thought as he walked back over to the fire.

Ginny had just taken her first bite
of an oat cake and was surprised at how it tasted like nothing, no
flavor at all.
Still
, she thought,
when in Rome, any port
in a storm, beggars can't be choosers.

When Ian came back, Ginny noticed
that first, he looked downright pissed off and second, he was
amazingly handsome in the firelight. The angular lines of his face
were more pronounced and his hair looked like it was on fire. She
could see the set line in his jaw and immediately wondered what
she'd done this time.
Dear God, I was just
sitting here
, she thought, closing her eyes
and lifting her face to the sky.

“If yar ready to go, come wit' me,”
Ian said as he was walking away.

“Thank you for breakfast, Duncan. I
hope to speak to you again sometime.”

Ian was getting more perturbed. Surely she
wasn't interested in Duncan. Why, the boy couldn't even fight that
well and was skinny. “Now! Lady Chatham,” he screamed at her to get
her moving.

Ginny ran after him with a smile on
her face.
Could the laird be
jealous?
She certainly hoped so. It would
probably be the brightest point in her day. As she followed behind
Ian, she began to sing Do You Believe in Magic by the Loving
Spoonful:
Do you believe in magic? In a
young girl's heart, How the music can free her, Whenever it
starts.

As she continued to sing, Ian was
rethinking taking her with him.
She's
obviously daft or she wouldn't be singing to herself. What could I
be thinking?

• * Chapter 8 *
  

Ginny began to realize that this dream may be
some sort of purgatory. How else could you explain that she had not
awoken to find herself in a hospital bed without any memory of the
strange goings on she had experienced.

Also, how could you possibly explain that she
could feel and smell and taste this “world” she found herself in.
Is God just messing with her for being too picky about men, or is
he punishing her for reading a handful of romance novels on her
worst vacation ever?

Riding on Ian's lap for the better part of the
day, Ginny was reminded why she always hated horses. Of course,
they smell, but worse, they had minds of their own. Riding them
made your ass hurt and there is always the fear they will start to
gallop and pop your butt right on the ground. Ian was kind enough
to balance her on his lap, but the lack of control was something
Ginny had always hated relinquishing.

“Are we close to your home yet?”
Ginny asked hoping for either a reprieve or a quick end to her
suffering.

Ian continued to ride without
comment.
Perhaps he didn't hear
me
, she thought.

“Excuse me, Laird. I was wondering
if we were close to your home or is it possible to take a short
break?” Ginny asked again in a louder voice.

Still, Ian said nothing.

Now, perhaps girls during this century would
have taken the hint and let it be. Ginny, however, was not from
this century. She decided that his rudeness could be matched with
her own. And so, she began to squirm and wiggle on his lap, trying
to find a more comfortable position.

This isn't
working
, she thought.
Maybe if I hang my legs on the other side. That would relieve
the pressure on the left side of my ass.

Ginny began to shift so her legs were on the
other side. First she maneuvered her right leg under Ian's arm
holding the left rein. Now she was straddling the horse.

Wait, this is much more
comfortable. Maybe I should ride like this for a
while
, she thought happily.

Ian couldn't believe what this girl was doing.
First she started shaking her bottom back and forth against him in
the most provocative manner. Now she was straddling the horse, butt
up against his manhood. Ian was trying to control the erection she
was causing him. This ride was going to be long indeed if she
didn't stop moving around so much.

She shifted back so her ass was on
the saddle.
Oh yes, much better
indeed
.

Before she could enjoy it too long, Ian kicked
his horse into a full gallop and headed for a grove of trees to the
right. Ginny tried to reach behind her to hold onto Ian, but
realized that she couldn't quite get a good grip. Just as she
thought she was going to slip off, Ian wrapped his arm around her
middle to keep her in place. This was definitely the part she hated
about horses the most.

Once they reached the trees, Ian hopped off
the horse and dragged Ginny into the woods. He was trying
unsuccessfully to control his temper, but this was his last straw.
He knew damn well that English girls did not ride astride. She was
either trying to seduce him or she was truly simple minded. It made
no difference, he wouldn't and couldn't take much more.

“Excuse me, Laird... am I to be
afforded some time to refresh myself?” Ginny asked Ian's back as he
dragged her further into the woods.

Suddenly, Ian turned around and glared at
Ginny. “What were ya doing on my horse?” His question was full of
anger, like he would hit her out of rage. His face was bright red
and he was panting like an animal.

Ginny was shocked and her eyes were as big as
saucers. She didn't understand why he was so angry. “I was
uncomfortable and trying to shift to a better position,” she stated
matter-of-factly. For the first time since the battle, Ginny was
truly afraid of the man before her. If he wanted, he could snap her
neck and be done with it. Ginny knew she should placate him, but
then again, she was never known to back down even if the odds were
against her. Gearing up for a battle, she let her anger
show.

“Why are you so angry? I tried to
speak to you, but you deemed it too beneath you to respond. So I
decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“Do ya think it twas appropriate to
sit on a horse as ya did?” Ian was trying to control his anger. He
knew he was scaring her, but he also knew that she needed to learn
her place. How unseemly would it be to let his slip of a girl have
any control over him. It would destroy his credibility and ruin him
as Laird. Not to mention Ian would be damned before he let her take
advantage.

“Do I care what you think is
appropriate when my ass is numb from my knees to my neck?” Ginny
asked, dripping sarcasm and using her hands to demonstrate where
she's numb.
What am I doing? I need to
shut up! Why can't I just be demure and suck it up until I can
figure out my options?

With the quickness of lightning, Ian reached
out and grabbed Ginny by both arms and hauled her up to his face.
His face was getting even more red and he was quickly losing
control. Both of her feet were off the ground and she was dangling
at his mercy.

“Ya'll do as I say, when I say it.
There will be no compromise, there will be no alternative. Ya
belong to me and my clan, and ya will act appropriately,” Ian
hissed and threw her to the ground. Ginny landed with a thump,
nearly knocking the wind out of her. “Take a few minutes to refresh
ya'self and meet me by my horse. Any more inappropriate behavior
will be met with severe punishment.” Ian stormed away quite proud
of his restraint.

What the hell?
Ginny thought as she watched him walk away out of sight. She
didn't really think her behavior warranted such seething anger.
Ginny had never dealt with such unreasonable rage before. Of course
she's had her share of kooks and weirdos, who would rage against
her and the hospital staff. At least that rage could be explained
by their mental illness or a parent's worry. But this? This could
only be crazy and dangerous and Ginny did not want to get back on
that horse with him.

She also did not want to see what would happen
to her if she disobeyed. She was in the middle of nowhere in a time
and place she had little familiarity with and absolutely no
resources to pull from. Ginny quickly tried to regain her
composure. With shaking hands, she took care of her needs and
walked back to the edge of the forest, almost half expecting Ian
and his horse to be long gone. Keeping with her current streak of
luck, there he stood, speaking to his second in command in harsh
whispers.

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm her
already frayed nerves, Ginny took a few steps beyond the safety of
the trees. Ian turned and commanded, “Ya'll ride with Broderick.”
Then, without another word, he hopped back on his horse and rode
off. Broderick looked like he'd rather sleep in a bed of snakes
than undertake this duty. Ginny sighed with resignation, for there
would surely be worse battles looming, if her situation was
anything like the books she'd read.

Broderick climbed back onto his horse and held
out a hand to help her. Ginny found herself sitting with her legs
opposite from before, so at least her right cheek could take some
abuse for awhile. Broderick, not known for his communication
skills, kept silent the rest of the day. Ginny took the hint and
said nothing as well.