Highland Rake (9 page)

"Aye, my laird. Will you be riding also?"

"Nay. I will await my brother's return. I will have enough to deal with on the morrow." Then James entered his chamber and closed his door, intent on snuggling with his own lassie, hoping that Dougald would find pleasure in the Cameron lass.

The last he recalled of seeing Lady Alana, she was bonny indeed. Whether they would love each other in time was another matter though. He hoped that his brother could have a woman to cherish as he treasured Eilis. But it was high time Dougald settled down. An alliance with the hot-headed Cameron clan would not be a bad arrangement either.

He yanked off his belt and plaid, tossed them aside, and climbed under the covers. Immediately, Eilis nestled against him, her hand sweeping across his bare chest. "What is wrong?" she whispered.

"Naught is wrong. Dougald is getting married is all."

"Dougald?" she said with such surprise, James smiled.

"He said naught about this to anyone, has he?" she asked.

"Nay. He doesna know it yet, lass. Sleep. We will see him and his bride-to-be tomorrow eve if all goes well."

***

Lady Alana could not sleep. The ground was too hard, the night air too chilly, the worry about how her uncle would react when he learned she was with the MacNeill clan, and what Laird MacNeill would do with her continued to plague her. She breathed in the smell of Dougald's borrowed spare plaid, the scent of pine and heather and leather, of wood smoke and his musky smell. Or was it on her? Wrapping her in its essence from having ridden in his arms all day?

She'd never been so close to a man, not like that. To feel his heated body pressed hard against hers, his arm clamped tightly around her, possessively, protectively, to feel the way she'd aroused him, all wantonly intriguing. Yet, she reminded herself that any lass who sat on his lap would have stirred the same craving.

She opened her eyes and saw Dougald sitting on a tree stump beside one of the campfires speaking to one of the lads who had ridden with them. He was talking quietly so as not to disturb the others who were sleeping. She realized then that several of the men were wrapped in their plaids, stretched out near her in a semi-circle, probably to protect her and ensure she did not attempt escape. One was happily snoring, and she realized that was another reason her sleep had been disturbed.

"You see, Callum, when you find the right bonny lass, you must protect her and cherish her above all others," Dougald said quite seriously to the lad.

Alana nearly laughed at the notion. Dougald was known to have been with many lassies. He did not stay with one to cherish her above all others. She had thought he would be teaching the lad something about fighting or surviving if separated from his clansmen, or the tending of fires, or hunting, or something important. She should have known Dougald would be talking about the subject he knew best—lasses. Even if he did not know how to truly love one and forsake all others. In that regard, he was just like her brother.

Who had vanished after he'd scolded her and left her to her own devices, she just realized. Not that he could do anything for her anyway.

In response to Dougald's advice to the lad, she gave a soft snort of derision, not meaning for them to hear her. She couldn't believe he would speak to the boy of the matter of loving a woman. To her chagrin, both Dougald and the lad looked in her direction.

Dougald's mouth curved at one corner to see her awake. She should have closed her eyes, feigned sleep, ignored the man, but she glowered at him instead.

"Off to bed with you now, lad. Seems the lady has something to say to me," Dougald said, his gaze still on her, the sparkle in his eyes and the crinkles beneath them indicating how much she had amused him.

Callum's dirty face split into a grin as he observed her. "Do you no’ think I should listen to what she has to say? Then what you have to say?" He glanced up at Dougald. "Seems to me that I could learn much."

Dougald chuckled. "Nay, no' this time. Off to bed with you."

Not seeming in the least bit disappointed, Callum rose to his feet, grabbed his blanket, then found a spot as close to Alana as he could without disturbing any of the other men. Which was why she realized he hadn't been upset about Dougald making him retire for the night. The lad unrolled his blanket and gave her a big smile before he lay down. Then he rolled himself up in his plaid and watched her.

She wanted to shake her head, but couldn't hide a smile instead.

"Come with me, lass, if you canna sleep. Tell me what is on your mind," Dougald said, motioning her over to the fire.

She remained where she was. "You, sir, are a rake. How could you teach the lad the way of women when you clearly…" She paused when two of the men's heads lifted off their plaids to look at her.

At first she thought they were annoyed she had awakened them, but then she saw the sleepy looks of amusement in the crinkles beneath their eyes and the small uplifted turn of their mouths and knew they wished to hear what she would tell the laird's brother about the way of women.

She unfurled herself from Dougald's blanket, stood, then wrapped it around her, walked over to the fire, and looked down at Dougald. "I have naught to say to you regarding your interest in women."

"You had an opinion earlier, my lady." He raised his brows, daring her to speak her mind. "What were you going to say?"

She shouldn't say a word. She knew that whoever was now awake, including three guards who were watching over the camp, would be listening. Then again, she wasn't one to hold her tongue when she believed the words needed to be said.

"You have a reputation with the ladies, sir," she said. Just like her brother had had. She knew the appeal was there, the smooth charming way of them, their glib tongues.

The flames reflected off Dougald's dark eyes as he studied her, watching her every reaction. His mouth was cemented into a smug smile, but he didn't say anything to refute her claim. He was a handsome devil of a man, his dark hair windswept, making him look wild and untamable, and she could see where women could be intrigued by such.

"You are known to be a rake. You dinna cherish a lass above all others," she continued, as if he didn't get her meaning the first time.

"Ah, mayhap my exploits are more tale than true." The sparkle in his eyes said he very much liked the way this conversation was going.

She was not an unreasonable woman, and she did consider the notion for as much time as it required for her to take a seat where the lad had been sitting on the grass. "Some, mayhap." Because she knew how men told tales, sometimes over way too many tankards of ale, and the telling of these tales would grow bigger and bigger until the telling was so exaggerated from the original story, that no one would have recognized it. She also knew there was often truth to the tale, no matter how much it had been embellished.

"I wager you have enjoyed your fair share of lassies and have not cherished any above any other," she insisted.

"At the time." He said the words matter-of-factly.

"What?" She did not understanding his meaning.

Some of his men chuckled.

Dougald let out his breath as if he couldn't understand how his meaning wouldn't be perfectly clear. "When a man is with a lass, he willna think of anyone else at the…," Dougald clarified, but paused, then shook his head as if he realized his mistake in giving her this particular explanation. She swore his ears colored a little, but it was difficult to tell by firelight. "Never mind. When a man finds the woman of his heart, he will cherish her above all else, is my meaning," Dougald finished.

A couple of men who were supposed to be sleeping, chuckled again.

She was certain, as much as she meant to couch her look of disbelief, that her expression was one of astonishment at hearing his declaration. "So you mean to tell me you would set aside your interest in all other women if you married?"

"Are you asking for yourself?" Dougald sounded far too amused.

Her face felt like it was on fire, and the heat spread down her throat all the way to the tip of her toes. She needed to get away from the fire. And from him and this conversation.

"Nay, of course not. I would never consider marrying a man such as yourself," she said, too haughtily. Her mother had told her if a lady spoke too vehemently about some matter, she would give away her feelings, which wouldn't do. Always be subtle when speaking with others. Let them guess as to how she feels. Alana would never learn.

Again, a few soft chuckles escaped from some of the men who were
supposed
to be sleeping and from one of the guards on duty who was
supposed
to be guarding.

"If a lass was to be my wife, which I have no interest in at the moment, rest assured, I would be devoted to her," Dougald said, not sounding all that serious, though she thought he was attempting to.

"Och, you would never settle down, sir. 'Tis no' in your blood. Any lass is like any other by your way of thinking." She almost mentioned he was like her brother, but managed to bite her tongue in time. She would not speak ill of her deceased brother—who seemed far too real to her still—in front of a man who was an enemy to her clan.

Dougald laughed softly. "If you say so, my lady. I wonder how it is that you know so much about me. I wouldna think my reputation was such that it would have reached the Cameron clan. Or your ears in particular."

"We know of your laird and his brothers. That your youngest is living with your second eldest brother, Malcolm, at Lady Anice's castle. That Malcolm could have lost his head to King Henry for taking the king's wife's cousin for his own. My uncle was much impressed. That James wed a lady and was nearly at war with two clans over it. My uncle has oft remarked how interested he is in knowing how your youngest brother and you would fare when seeking a bride. He predicts the lady's da will have to force the marriage where you are concerned."

"Me?"

She raised her brows. "My uncle knows that you were in a dungeon and that a lass helped you to escape. 'Tis your charming ways, no doubt, that earned your release in such a manner. My uncle jested that he would have to lock up all our lasses if he ever took you prisoner. It wouldna be enough that he would put you under lock and key. So you see, sir, you do have a reputation among the people of my clan."

Connell laughed from a place across the fire and her gaze shot that way to see her brother—
speaking of the dead
—sitting upon a log as if he had been invited to camp with the MacNeill clan this eve. "See, I am no' the only one with such a reputation," Connell said, grinning at her with his rakish charm.

And see where that got her brother! Dead!

Startled by her brother's laugh, Alana wondered how long Connell had been sitting on the other side of the campfire listening in on her conversation with Dougald. She imagined her brother would have been in the same situation had he been locked up in a dungeon—a willing lass would attempt to free
him
also!

She took a calming breath and turned her attention back to Dougald. He smiled too wickedly at her, and Alana wondered just what he was thinking. She thought it might be something she did not wish to hear.

She was about to leave him to the fire to contemplate his roguish ways when, with a definite sparkle to his eyes and a small smile, he said, "And what about you, lass? Would you have to be locked up, too, so that you wouldna be tempted to free me?"

She should have told him she would not be tempted to release the devil who would seduce any of the lasses in her castle that he could get his hands on. But that was not her way. If her uncle had imprisoned Dougald for no good reason, she could see herself freeing him. Although she wasn't certain she would risk her uncle's wrath for just any man. So mayhap Dougald had won her over…just a bit.

She rose and very seriously said, "It depends on why you were manacled in our dungeon in the first place."

Then she turned and headed back to her bedding.

The sound of a horse approaching made some of the men sit up and take notice, their hands on their swords. She froze in place before she had a chance to lie down. The Norseman, Gunnolf, looked grim-faced as he rode into camp and cast a look in her direction.

Dougald rose and welcomed him. "Gunnolf, what did you find?"

"If the croft that I visited was the same one that Lady Alana had been to, and the woman within was the same one who is carrying one of our clansmen's bairns, she seemed no' to be ill or with child, as far as I could tell."

Alana frowned. "You spoke with Odara?"

"That was the lass's name, aye."

"You probably gave her a fright, riding to her place and questioning her so. Why would you think she lies? The sickness comes and goes, if you knew anything about it." Men. They had no clue about a woman's sickness when she was carrying a babe. "'Tis too early for her to show." At least she assumed as much if Odara had only just come to the conclusion she was breeding.

"She wasna alone." Gunnolf watched Alana expectantly.

She stared at the blond hulk of a man in disbelief. Then she considered that the lad she'd sent to take care of Odara's sheep until she felt better might have stayed inside her croft with her overnight. "I sent a lad to help with her sheep."