Highland Rogue (12 page)

And she must stop imagining such things! She was no longer a calf-eyed girl, hankering after a handsome young man who scarcely noticed her. She had responsibilities now, and obligations. Chief of which was the debt of affection she owed her sister.

If Ewan Geddes cared nothing for Tessa’s fortune, but truly loved her, and she him, Claire owed it to her sister to promote the match. Especially after going to such unscrupulous lengths to prevent it. She owed it to Tessa and Ewan, and most of all to herself, to weed out the foolish infatuation that had begun to take root in her heart again after lying fallow for so many years.

Just for that moment, though, she forgot those obligations, and her discomfort, to soak up the satisfying sensation of Ewan’s half-naked body pressed against hers. She would have given every penny of her fortune for him to raise his head and press his lips to hers.

He should get off the poor lass before he squashed her flat! If only he could get his stubborn body to cooperate.

Perhaps he could find the strength to roll off her if he really tried, but she wasn’t complaining, and it felt so good to lie there pressed against her. It took all the willpower Ewan could muster to keep from lifting his head and kissing her.

Last night he had wanted to kiss her, too. For the worst reasons a man could have. To shock her, to overpower her and to vent the primitive urges she provoked in him. He would have been ashamed to use his lips on any woman that way.

Now he wanted to kiss her in a far different way, for far different reasons. To say he was sorry. To say he was grateful. To acknowledge some bewildering bond that pulled them together no matter how hard they fought to deny it and keep their distance.

That kind of kiss was much harder to hold back.

Perhaps because he’d just escaped the cold, killing jaws of the sea, his veins pulsed with life and heat. He could not imagine a sweeter sensation than the slender softness of a woman beneath him.

He knew he must restrain himself, but at that moment, he could not remember why. He scavenged just enough energy to tilt his head. His gaze met hers and held for a long, breathless, searching moment.

“Hullo!” A distant, urgent cry shattered the wordless connection between them. “Miss Talbot, are you there? Are you all right?”

Claire stirred beneath him, and Ewan discovered he did have the strength to roll off her, after all.

She grabbed the edge of the boat and pulled herself upright. “We’re here!” she called back, though Ewan doubted her breathless voice carried far. “And we’re safe.”

Wrapping his arms about his wet, bare chest, Ewan dragged himself onto the narrow bench in the bow of the lifeboat. From there, he could see a larger craft speeding toward them, three pairs of oars moving together in a swift rhythm. He knew he should welcome their arrival.

His thoughts grew muddled for a time, until he heard Claire’s voice, as warm as the coarse wool blanket she wrapped around him. “We’ll be back on the
Marlet
soon. I’ll order Captain MacLeod to dock at Portsmouth.”

Ewan opened his mouth to ask why, then he remembered. He shook his head. “N-n-not unless ye want to be rid of me, d-d-damn fool that I am.”

He dragged his eyes open and forced them to focus. Their tiny lifeboat was being towed back toward the ship by the larger one. Claire sat on the middle bench, a gray wool blanket covering the wreck of her pretty gown. Her hair hung in wet, limp strands around her face and she looked altogether miserable. But she answered him with a trace of her usual spark. “You were a damn fool to dive off that boat, but so was I for making you do it.”

“Ye
were a damn fool to come after me.” Ewan wiped away a drop of water that had slid down to the tip of his nose. “But I thank ye just the same. I don’t know how much longer I could have kept afloat out there.”

“Did you mean it?” Claire pulled the blanket tighter around her. “About staying aboard the
Marlet?
Are you willing to chance the rest of the voyage with me? I’m not keen to fish you out of the Irish Sea.”

Ewan felt his lip curl into a grin. The lass had a lot of spirit, to poke fun after what had just happened.

“If I’m fool enough to jump into the Irish Sea,” he advised her, not entirely in jest, “do us both a favor and let me drown.”

For an instant, she looked a trifle shocked by his quip, but a hiccup of laughter gushed out of her, followed by another and another, in which Ewan joined. They were still laughing when they were pulled aboard the
Marlet.

Captain MacLeod looked at them as if they were a pair of escaped lunatics. “See here, I’ll have no more goings-on like that on my ship, do ye ken?”

Claire did not remind him that the
Marlet
belonged to her. Instead, like a naughty child being scolded, she stared at her feet and muttered something that sounded apologetic. Unfortunately, she ruined the penitent effect by bursting into another fit of giggles.

“Away with ye!” The captain scowled, though Ewan detected a twinkle in his deep-set eyes. “Go get yerselves into dry gear before ye catch yer deaths.”

As Ewan stumbled toward the galley way, he heard Claire’s voice behind him. “Jock, will you tend to Mr. Geddes, like a good fellow. I’m not certain how much strength he has in his arms just now.”

An hour ago, he would have resented such a gesture from her. Now he turned and offered her a warm smile. “Have ye got someone to tend to ye, lass? Rowing’s as hard on the arms as swimming, I’ll be bound.”

His concern appeared to fluster her. She pushed the drooping strands of hair away from her face. “I’m certain my maid will take very good care of me, thank you.”

“See that she does.” Ewan watched Claire make her way below deck, then he turned to Jockie. “And why are ye grinning like a fool?”

“Don’t ye mean grinning
at
a fool?”

“Aye,” Ewan admitted. He’d called himself that and worse too often of late to take offense when somebody else did. “Why are ye grinning like a fool at a fool?”

Jockie winked. “Because I just won a fiver, mate. With a wee bit of help from ye and Miss Talbot.”

“Always glad to oblige.” Ewan headed below. “What did I do?”

“Ye didn’t drown,” said Jock, “but ye didn’t make it to shore, either. The crew had a bit of a wager on the whole thing, ye see.”

“A wager? On whether I’d drown?”

“That was only part of it,” explained Jock, as if that made it all right. “There were bets on ye drowning and some on ye getting to shore. I almost put my money on that, for the odds were long.”

Ewan held tight to the rail as he staggered down the stairs. “I’m touched by yer faith in me.”

Jock chuckled. “A lot of the crew bet on the other boat reaching ye first, but I put my money on Miss Talbot. If she set her mind to it, I knew there’d be no stopping her.”

“She’s quite a lass, isn’t she?” Ewan murmured, more to himself than to Jock, as he entered his cabin, then slipped behind the dressing screen to peel off his wet trousers.

“To tell ye the truth …” Jock closed the cabin door behind him and lowered his voice. “I never had much use for the rest of the family. But Miss Talbot, she’s a good sort. They say she has a lot of Old Man Brancaster in her. Tell me, did she make ye grovel very long before she let ye climb in that lifeboat?”

“Not as long as she should have.” Ewan pitched his wet trousers over the screen at Jock. “And what do ye mean, ye haven’t much use for the rest of the family? What about Miss Tessa? She’s a bonny lass.”

“Aye, to look at.” Jock muttered, his words almost drowned out by the sounds of the wardrobe being opened.

“She’s a lively wee thing.” Ewan grabbed a towel from the washstand and began rubbing himself dry. His toes and fingertips were puckered like big pale raisins, but his arms were beginning to regain some of their strength.

“Aye,” said Jock. “Used to getting her own way and all. His lairdship doted on her, while he hardly spared a thought for her sister.” He hung articles of dry clothing over the edge of the dressing screen. “By the way, I rescued the clothes ye left lying on the deck when ye jumped overboard.”

Ewan muttered his thanks, but his mind fixed on what Jockie had said about Claire. A qualm of guilt rolled through his belly, though he couldn’t reckon why.

Jock chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Ewan surged up on tiptoe, to peer over the screen.

“I was just thinking what would have happened if that had been Miss Tessa up on deck when ye jumped overboard, instead of Miss Claire.”

“Aye?”

“With all the screaming and the swooning …” Jock could scarcely get the words out for laughing. “The crew would have been so busy tending to her, ye’d have drowned for sure.”

A vivid image of the scene rose in Ewan’s mind. It made him feel heartily disloyal. “If it had been Miss Tessa up there instead of Miss Claire, I never would have jumped in the first place!”

Jock headed out the cabin door with Ewan’s wet trousers and drawers over his arm. Still chuckling, he shook his head. “Don’t ye be too sure about that, mate.”

After a thorough wash, a change of clothes, a hot toddy and a long nap, Claire felt sufficiently recovered to venture out to the dining room for tea. She was more than a little surprised to find Ewan already there, tucking into a hearty spread of sandwiches and cakes.

She hesitated on the threshold, overcome with awkwardness. When she’d looked upon the man as an enemy to thwart at all costs, it had been so much easier to approach him. Now she did not know how to proceed. She cringed, recalling what a fool she’d made of herself while trying to entice him.

Another memory hovered at the fringe of her thoughts, as well. That of Ewan sprawled on top of her in the lifeboat. It left her feeling roused and strangely vulnerable.

She tried to back out of the room without him noticing her, but he glanced up and caught her.

Dropping a half-eaten sandwich onto his plate, he jumped to his feet. “Please don’t go away on my account, Miss Talbot.”

“Are you sure?” Claire hated the note of uncertainty she heard in her voice. “I can come back later. I thought you must still be resting in your cabin.”

Why hadn’t she asked her maid to check first?

He took a step toward her. “I hope ye wouldn’t have stayed away on my account. I promise I’ll mind my manners at meals from now on.” His self-deprecating smile was infectious. “Even if ye come to breakfast decked from head to toe in diamonds.”

Claire gave an exaggerated shudder. “I fear that would not be very comfortable. Especially for sitting down.”

“I don’t reckon it would be.” He offered her his arm to lead her to the table.

He looked so genuinely eager for her company, yet a tightness around his eyes betrayed a shadow of worry that she might refuse. Somehow, it eased Claire’s embarrassment.

She let him escort her to the table and hold her chair.

“Anyway,” said Ewan, passing her the tray of sandwiches, “I know why ye wore all yer jewels and had yer cook make all that rich food.”

Claire fumbled the sandwich tray. “I’m sorry! How clumsy of me!”

“It’s my fault.” Ewan seized the dish and set it back down on the table where she could reach it. “I should have remembered … yer hands.”

Before she realized what he meant to do, he reached for her nearest hand and peeled back the glove from her wrist, exposing her bandaged palm. “I wouldn’t blame ye if ye didn’t want to dine in the same room with such a lout.”

But how could
he
stand to dine with
her
if he guessed what she’d been trying to do?

Discretion told her to avoid the subject and pray it never came up again. Yet she
had
to know—was it possible he did not despise her for trying to entrap him?

She reached for a walnut tea cake as an excuse to withdraw her hand. “You know why I wore so many jewels and served rich food?”

“Oh, aye.” Ewan pulled a wry face. “No pleasing some folk, is there? If ye’d dressed plain and served simple food, I might have gotten all offended that ye didn’t think I was worth making a fuss over.”

So he didn’t know the truth! A surge of relief weakened Claire’s arms worse than rowing the lifeboat had.

Perhaps it showed on her face, too, for Ewan asked, “That
was
what ye were trying to do, wasn’t it? Make me feel I was worth putting on a bit of a show for?”

“Something like that.” The lie stuck in Claire’s throat and threatened to choke her. “More tea?”

Ewan nodded. “Look, I know it’s a lot to ask after the way I acted, but do ye think ye could give me another chance? Forget the last twenty-four hours ever happened and start over again with a clean slate?”

Yesterday he had asked her to do that, but she had not been sincere in accepting his offer. Now, though she wasn’t sure she deserved another chance, she wanted one very much. Perhaps if she got to know him better—not the boy he’d once been, but the man he’d become—she could rid herself of any improper feelings toward him. Only then might she come to like and respect him as her future brother-in-law.

“I cannot let you take all the blame for what happened, but I would like us to start afresh. For Tessa’s sake.”

“That’s settled, then.” Ewan lifted his teacup as if in a toast. “Here’s to new beginnings and second chances. Rare blessings, both.”

“To new beginnings and second chances.” Claire raised her own cup and gingerly clinked it against his.

As Ewan Geddes gazed at her for the first time in their lives with a soft glow of fondness and admiration in his eyes, Claire struggled to ignore the sweet, warm flutter in her heart.

For Tessa’s sake.
Those words did not sit well with Ewan, for reasons he could not work out.

Of course he wanted to get better acquainted with Claire Talbot for her sister’s sake. If all went well, they would be family one day. That thought troubled him, too.

He wondered why.

Could it be on account of the very unbrotherly feelings she roused in him? Aye, perhaps. But those feelings weren’t real, were they? Likely they were just some queer twist of the passionate hostility that had flared between them for as long as he could recall. Once they settled down and got to know each other, those yearnings would fade into something he could live with.