Rogue's Challenge (8 page)
He clearly heard Amelia's words echoing in his thoughts. “She'll hand you a bunch of junk about her father needing her, but don't let her con you,” Amelia had said. “He's a jerk and a half. He doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone but himself and his wallet. But I'm sure if you tell her I need her, then she'll come. She's got nothing else, anyway. Just her work, which she probably ran right back to after I left."
Ian wondered how Jenny would truly have fared in her time without Amelia by her side. There was a strong bond there. He saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice, she cared deeply for Amelia.
A quirky grin stole across the maid's lips. Some private joke? Thoughts of her friend perhaps, or a memory? The memory of a kiss?
Dolt! She could not, would not wish to share the slightest dalliance with him. They were far too different, and she was but a visitor in his world. Once she returned to her time, she would do as Amelia had predicted and resume her work. Hiding, she claimed.
He frowned with the uncomfortable thought. Although Jenny was most irritating at times, had no sense of adventure whatsoever, he detested the notion of this rare beauty living out her days cloistered away in some laboratory with no friends or loved ones by her side. She did not live life, if Amelia's words were to be believed. She merely existed.
But it didn't matter what she did with her life upon her return, he argued with himself. All that mattered was her safety now, and his determination to keep away from the woman. She was a lady. Out of his reach. Although recognized by his father, he was a bastard with no prospects. A lady would never venture so low. Not even one from the future.
Riding for an hour, talking little along the way, they stopped to rest for a few minutes before moving on to Tobor Morar, a port from where they would take a boat across to the mainland.
Ian bit the inside of his cheek, knowing full well he would have to help the woman down from her mount. She not only couldn't see, she had no real knowledge of what she was doing. A few hours on a horse being led around the bailey did not make her a rider. He could ask Michael to do it, he supposed, but refused to let his desires, however unbelievable, get the better of him.
"We shall rest for a few minutes,” he announced, and slid from his horse.
Michael nodded and dismounted. The lad held Jenny's horse steady as Ian slid his hands around her waist. The simple style of her gown, now quite fetching with the alterations, distracted him a moment as he lowered her to the ground. Aye, she was a shapely woman for one so small.
Her hands rested on his forearms while his remained secure around her waist. “Thank you,” she said, her voice a bit shaky.
He could only nod, his tongue too thick to speak. ‘Twould take but the slightest dipping of his head to kiss her, he thought.
"If you've a need tae some privacy, Jenny, there be a bit of trees over there,” Michael said, wrenching Ian from his frozen state.
"Oh, um, thanks. I think that might be a good idea.” Her face flushed pink, and Ian was struck once again by her beauty.
How could a woman such as her be alone? And of all the women in the world why did he have to lust after one that was so wrong for him?
She walked slowly, picking her way carefully across the small bit of road to the trees. Once there, he called out to her not to go too far. She waved and slipped into the thicket.
"I'll be taking tae the other side of the road,” Michael muttered. But Ian could not take his eyes from the spot where Jenny had disappeared.
Something nagged at him, but he could not place the feeling. He'd thought all morn that ‘twas nothing but his misguided lust and admiration for her bravery. He knew, although she sat prettily in the saddle, a sweet grin on her face, that she was frightened. But that was not what niggled at the back of his mind. There was something different about her. Different since the night they'd met, but he couldn't fathom what it was.
Shaking his head, he tended to his own business then found a half rotted log to rest upon while waiting for her to re-appear. Whatever the change, ‘twould come to him eventually. After all, he was stuck with the woman for the next sennight.
Jenny felt silly squatting in the woods, but knew there was little choice in the matter. Several times she looked over her shoulder trying to determine if she was concealed enough, and several times she ran into a blasted tree.
The last one was rather large, so she decided that if she wasn't concealed enough behind it then she'd just have to trust Michael and Ian not to watch.
She took care of business as quickly as possible, then slowly turned back the way she came, her hands out in front of her so as not to run into yet another branch or tree. But unfortunately, the blurry leaves all looked the same and she wasn't sure which way led back to the road.
Feeling like a helpless twit, she opened her mouth to call out to Ian, then paused. She really didn't need this embarrassment. Oh, he'd never say a word, and neither would Michael, but it was so humiliating.
Standing perfectly still, she strained to hear them, or perhaps the horses, but all she heard was the wind in the trees ... and something else. She wasn't alone. There was someone or something there.
At first she thought it was just one of the men standing close by, but she quickly reasoned that they would've said something. Especially after she ran into that tree. Then there was the chance it was an animal of some kind, but logic dictated that it would've run off with her stomping around in the woods. That left one other possibility.
The problem was, however, did she risk pure embarrassment and call out to Ian for aid, or did she let whoever was nearby do whatever it was they intended to do while she sat and waited?
Stupid she was not.
Jenny let out a blood-curdling scream, sure to bring Ian and Michael to her aid with the utmost speed, and send whomever it was lurking nearby on their way.
Barely a second passed as branches, leaves and such were crushed beneath heavy feet pounding toward her, while the unknown part of the puzzle cursed, although nearly imperceptible, and went in the other direction. A small grin slipped over Jenny's lips as she waited to be rescued.
It was rather nice, actually. No one had ever rescued her before. Her one brush with danger last summer had lasted all of a few seconds. Tuck had fallen into the fountain and Jenny had clobbered the kidnapper with her purse filled with entirely too many coins, succeeding in incapacitating him.
A slight blush crept up her cheek at the memory. Tossing pennies into every fountain in Europe wasn't going to get her what she wanted, but she deduced that it couldn't hurt.
"Christ woman!” Ian grabbed her arms, startling her from her thoughts, and ran his hands over her in search of injuries.
She knew she wasn't supposed to enjoy that part of the rescue, or was she? Since this was her first, she couldn't be certain what the rules were.
"Are you all right?” he demanded as a puffing Michael appeared behind him.
"Yes, I—” Wait a moment. The unknown person, a man she determined by the depth of his voice, had cursed in English. She quickly calculated the odds of the existence of another Englishman on the Scottish isle. One lurking in the woods, no less, and didn't care for the astronomical figure.
"Michael, go back to the horses and guard them,” Ian said. “Quickly, man!” He scooped Jenny up and strode through the bushes at a near jog.
"I can walk,” Jenny sputtered, while her thoughts kept cycling through the probabilities.
"I should not have let you venture off alone,” he snarled.
She noted the rapid pounding of his heart against her side, and realized he wasn't angry with her, but afraid for her. He really did care. “I'm fine."
"Then why did you scream?” He did not stop until they stood beside her horse.
"Well, I—” She took a deep breath. “I got turned around, I didn't know which way was back."
His broad shoulders sagged as he let out a long harsh breath. “You could have called out for aid. Not screamed down the treetops.” He lifted her to her horse and plopped her down on the saddle.
"I know that,” she snapped. “I was about to when I realized I wasn't alone."
He turned toward his horse and paused. “You what?"
"I wasn't alone."
He shook his head and mounted his horse. Michael did the same. “This is going to be a long journey,” he mumbled, tossing Michael the reins to her horse.
"But—"
Ian galloped ahead several yards leaving her stewing.
"Not alone,” he murmured. The woman could not see! She wouldn't know if a full garrison was standing among the trees.
But that scream. God, he prayed he would never hear the like of it again. Never in his life had his heart pounded so fiercely, not even in the heat of battle. For a small woman she had lungs like a bull.
He slowed his horse to a walk, allowing them to catch up with him, but he would not ride beside her. The woman was twisting him in more ways than he could fathom, inside and out. Screaming, arguing, theorizing ... kissing. Heaven help him. He would not be a sane man by the end of this journey.
He cast a glance or two her way and noted her brow furrowed in concentration. Some new argument simmering in her brain, no doubt. But thankfully, the woman said naught until they rode into the small port.
"What is the ratio of Scots to English on the island?” she asked.
"Beg pardon, lass?” Michael asked.
Ian cast his eyes heavenward in thanks that her latest undertaking was in learning more about the island's inhabitants and not a new way to torture him with her theories. “There is no ratio,” Ian said. “None worth counting, at any rate."
She cast him a puzzled look. “I see."
Ian noted her brow furrow deeper with the information, and hated how much he longed to know what was going on inside her pretty head. Irritating she may be, but she was exceedingly bright, most of the time.
He moved to help her from her horse. Michael could've aided her, and he'd decided as much after their previous stop, but he found the strangest desire to not let another man touch her.
Ian blinked away the thought and grasped her waist. “Stay with us at all times. Do not wander off."
"Don't be ridiculous. I can't see where to wander.” She peered around him at the bustle of the many people coming and going. “I do find it fascinating, just the same."
"I shall see to getting us across the loch,” Ian said, handing the woman over to Michael. “Do not let go of his arm,” he said, leaning close to her ear. “You would be a fine prize to a less than honorable man."
She cast him a look, but he noted her faint shiver. “Are you trying to frighten me?"
"I am only departing the truth, mistress. I shall return in due time.” He walked away, her sweet puzzled frown bringing a grin to his lips.
"Was that some sort of twisted compliment?” Jenny hadn't meant to ask the question aloud and hoped Michael hadn't heard, but his low chuckle proved otherwise.
"I doona think he meant tae compliment you, so much as warn you. You are a woman, and without a mon tae guard you, you would no’ be safe."
Her feminist side bristled at the comment, but he was right. Without her glasses and armed with no more than a few defensive moves Tuck had taught her, she wouldn't hold up too well against a full assault. Her size was a very big hindrance in that regard, and from what she could see, all the blurry people hurrying about were a good deal bigger than her. Well, it was a port full of fishing vessels and the like, and fisherman had to be strong to bring in their catch so it made sense.
"But surely no one would accost me in broad daylight,” she said.
"'Tis a port, lass. Full of all sorts. Ye canna be tae careful."
"I suppose.” She hadn't expected things to be this dangerous, if Michael and Ian were to be believed, but there was that man in the woods. Perhaps she should've stayed at the castle after all.
Vernon cursed thoroughly. She'd evaded him again. He should've taken his chance in the woods and grabbed her. But the Englishman and the Scot riding with her—and their swords—made him think twice, and those extra seconds had cost him the opportunity. He would've had to shoot them, most likely. Not that he wasn't prepared to do that, but he'd rather not kill anyone if he could help it. Except for that snake, Maxwell. There was a man he wouldn't mind blowing away.
No sense in thinking on it now, he'd missed the opportunity. He'd heard enough to know they were in search of some new glasses for the brat. That would be troublesome, because if she saw him, really saw him, she might recognize him and ruin everything. He had to get her before she found any glasses. And with the mass of confusion around the boat, he might just find a way.
Ian was gone only for a few minutes, but long enough for Michael to answer Jenny's many questions regarding the fishing and other interesting tidbits about the port. It was that or dwell on what they'd said about her safety. She hoped they would find her a pair of glasses. She'd feel better if she could see, and hated missing so much. But that was yet another silly wish, another coin into another fountain.
"I really should've had Lasik surgery,” she grumbled. Although she was a doctor, knew the procedure to be safe, the thought of having a laser anywhere near her eyes made her nervous.
"Had what?” Michael asked.
"Uh, I, uh—"
Ian chuckled as he stepped up behind her. It wasn't often Jenny was without coherent words. “We have but an hour's wait,” he said.
She jumped with a turn. “Oh, so soon? How nice,” she said, obviously relieved he had interrupted their conversation.
He took her arm and guided her to the boat, while Michael followed with the horses. “I know I should not ask, but I cannot let it lie,” he said, too curious for his own good. “What was it that had you stammering so? It is not like you to be without a prompt reply."
"Oh, you're too funny. As if you don't have an answer for everything. The wrong answer, but an answer nonetheless,” she said with a grin.
