Taming the Scotsman (8 page)

Still, it felt so right to be where she was, looking up at him and the way the sunlight glinted against his dark hair. No man could ever be more handsome.

“Even when I talk too much?” she couldn’t resist adding.

He glanced at her, then glanced away. “We should probably start back on our journey. I’d like to be at the castle before dark.”

Reluctantly, Nora got up.

Ewan helped her back on her horse and then handed her the lute. He mounted his own horse.

Nora rode behind him while she held the lute carefully in her arms like a precious babe. The last thing she wanted was to have it damaged in any way.

“How long do you think it will take me to learn to play?” she asked.

“I suppose it depends on how much you practice.”

“Should I practice every day? How much do you practice? How long did it take before you were any good? You said you taught yourself, so how did you learn without anyone to teach you?”

Ewan winced as her questions assailed him, but deep down inside he was relieved. In truth, he had been concerned by her earlier quietness.

Now she was back to her normal, chattering self.

They rode for several hours before they neared the meadow where he normally rested his horse when he made this trip alone.

Today his favorite spot under the large oak tree was already occupied. Damn. He’d have to find them a new place to settle down for a rest.

Ewan was leading her away from the small group of people who were eating when an older man waved to them.

“Greetings, my lord. Would you and your lady care to pass the midday meal with us? We’ve plenty to share.”

Ewan sized them up. It was an older man, three younger ones, and a woman. With the exception of a blond man who watched them with deviltry in his eyes, they appeared harmless enough. Either peddlers or gypsies of some sort judging by their covered wagon and clothes.

The woman had hair as black as jet and eyes that were slanted like a cat’s. The older man had the same dark skin, but his hair was all gray.

His gaze went back to the blond man who gave him a nod and a smile and appeared to be amused now, not threatening.

Nay, there would be no harm in resting with them.

“What say you, Nora?”

She offered him a broad smile. “I think it would be pleasant to pass a meal with someone who will do more than grunt at my questions.”

He grimaced at her.

“Or give me that look,” she added.

Ewan accepted the invitation. He helped Nora down and noted the way she continued to clutch the lute to her as if it were unspeakably precious. It was all he could do not to smile at her actions.

How could anyone derive so much pleasure from so cheap a gift?

The youngest of the men came forward to help him tend the horses. His skin was almost as dark as a Saracen and his black hair was curly and thick. He wore a green shirt with a red sash knotted at his waist.

“My name is Bavel,” he said, extending his arm.

Ewan inclined his head and shook the man’s proffered arm. “Ewan MacAllister.”

Bavel indicated the older man who had waved them over. “That is our Uncle Viktor, and my cousins Lysander and Catarina. The blond man is another traveler we picked up who goes by the name of Pagan.”

Ewan nodded at each of them in turn while Catarina quickly befriended Nora.

“What brings you to MacAllister lands?” Ewan asked Bavel as the man moved to rub down Nora’s mare.

“Just passing through.”

“Are you peddlers?”

“Entertainers. There’s a fair in Arrowsbough that we’re headed to.”

Ewan fell silent as he fed and watered his horse. Nora’s easy laughter and chattering filled his ears as she and the others talked.

“Have you traveled all your life?” she asked Catarina.

“Aye, since the moment I was born.”

“Where have you been?”

“Everywhere.”

Nora took a sip of wine before she continued her inquisition. “Have you ever been to Aquitaine?”

“I was born just to the south of it.”

“Nay, truly?”

“Truly.”

Nora’s face turned dreamy and soft, making Ewan’s body react instantly. He would love to put that look on her face after a night spent sating his aching loins.

“Oh, I would love to travel about,” Nora said, her voice thick and heady. “You’re so fortunate to have an uncle who allows you to join him.”

“Aye, I am indeed.”

After a few minutes Bavel leaned forward. “Does your lady ever run short of questions?”

“Nay, she does not.”

Bavel pulled back from him and muttered. “No wonder you drink.”

Ewan stiffened at the words that had been whispered under Bavel’s breath. Words he barely heard. “I beg your pardon?”

Bavel cleared his throat. “I said I would be drinking if I had to travel with such a woman.”

Ewan frowned. Had he heard the man wrongly?

“Ewan!” Nora called. “You must come taste this stew. ’Tis marvelous fare. The best I’ve ever found.”

Catarina beamed in satisfaction. “’Tis a recipe my mother taught me.”

“Does your mother not travel with you?” Nora asked.

“Nay, she is in Anjou with my father.”

Nora’s eyes glowed with appreciation. “And they let you come to Scotland with your uncle? Alone?”

Catarina shrugged. “My mother is quite understanding of my need for freedom.”

Nora sat back on her heels as if the thought was more than she could fathom. “I can’t imagine a mother such as that. My parents would have the vapors should I…” She paused and looked up as Ewan joined them. “I’m sure they are having vapors at this very moment.”

Without thought, Ewan reached out and touched her hand comfortingly. “We’ll send word to them as soon as we reach Lochlan’s castle.”

“You are eloping?” Catarina asked.

Ewan almost choked at that question.

“Nay,” Nora hastened to assure her. “Ewan is merely being kind enough to help me escape a dreadful situation.”

Ewan sat next to Viktor, who handed him a cup of ale and then a bowl of stew. Nora sat to his right and continued to eat and chat with Catarina.

“So what brought you to Scotland?” she asked Catarina.

“We heard how beautiful it was here,” Viktor answered. “So we decided to come see for ourselves.”

Nora swallowed her bite of food. “Are you planning on going home soon?”

“Perhaps.”

By the time Ewan finished his stew, his head had started buzzing. At first he thought he might have developed a headache from Nora’s endless curiosity, but the world around him was moving.

“Are you all right?” Nora asked.

“I feel strange.”

Nora frowned as she watched Ewan. He looked a bit pale as he swayed.

When he started to rise, he fell back to his knees.

She swallowed in fear. “Ewan?”

Lysander and Bavel caught him between them an instant before he passed out.

Nora’s heart pounded even more at the sight of her fierce guardian unconscious.

Whatever could have happened to him?

“Ewan?” she asked, rubbing his stubbled cheek. “Are you ill?”

Catarina stepped forward and pulled her back from the men. “It’ll be all right, my lady. Viktor is a wonder with healing. We’ll get him into the wagon and tend him.”

“But—”

“We’ll take care of him,” Catarina assured her. “Where were the two of you bound?”

“The MacAllister’s castle.”

“Well, that’s no problem,” she assured her. “We were headed that way ourselves. We’ll let the two of you ride in the wagon where you can watch
over your man and we’ll get you there in no time at all. Isn’t that right, Viktor?”

“Aye. We’ll get you both home, mark my words.”

Nora smiled at the kindness. It really was good of them to be so willing to help.

And come to think of it, it was a good think they had stopped. What would she have done had Ewan taken ill and she’d been alone with him?

“Thank you,” she said to Catarina.

Lysander and Pagan helped Ewan into the wagon while Nora stayed outside with Catarina. Viktor went inside to help tend Ewan and to see what he could do.

Nora waited several minutes before the men came back outside to join her.

Viktor patted her gently on the arm. “He’ll be fine after a little rest. You may ride inside with him if you wish.”

Nora crossed the short distance to the wagon’s steps.

With a curious look to Viktor, Bavel helped her inside.

Nora went to check on Ewan, then froze as she caught sight of him.

He’d been tied up and gagged.

What…?

A chill went down her spine.

Och now, this wasn’t any good at all. There was no reason for Ewan to be trussed up.

She turned around at the same moment Viktor shut the door to the wagon behind her.

Her sight dulling, she went to the door, only to learn it had been locked from outside.

“Catarina? Viktor?” she demanded angrily. “What is the meaning of this?”

“All will be well, my lady,” Catarina said from the other side of the door. “Don’t panic. You’ll just be our guests a little longer than you had planned.”

She heard Lysander scoffing at Catarina’s words. “Just tell the lass she’s been kidnapped, Cat. It’s not as if she’s not going to find that out anyway.”

Nora gaped at his words.

Kidnapped?

Och, this was a fine mess now, wasn’t it? Out of the pot and straight into the fire she’d landed.

And all because Ryan MacAren was a devil!

The wagon lurched as Viktor climbed up on it. She heard the others mounting and tying her mare and Ewan’s stallion to the wagon.

Kidnapped. The word rang in her head as she turned back toward Ewan.

Her irritable companion would be even more so once he awoke and learned of this new fix.

It was all her fault, she was sure of it. No doubt the group had recognized her as the niece of the queen of England and had sought to use her for ransom.

Now
what was she going to do?

E
wan came awake to a pounding in his skull so fierce that for a moment he wondered if he’d been kicked by his own horse. But as he tried to move and realized his hands and legs were tied, he began to suspect something much worse than that.

Blinking his eyes open, he found Nora sitting beside him. Her face pale in the dim light of the wagon, she was staring at the door as if wishing she could splinter it with her thoughts.

The wagon lurched, slamming his ribs hard into the floor. Ewan ground his teeth against the pain.

“Where are we?” he growled.

His question startled her. She jumped and
turned around to face him. Relief was etched into her delicate features as she met his heated gaze. “You’re awake.”

“Aye. Why am I tied? Did you do this?” he asked, even though he knew the very idea was preposterous.

Then again, with her, almost anything was possible.

She looked offended by that. “It was our friends. I think they drugged you during the meal, then they brought you inside and trussed you up.”

“And what were you doing while they did this to me?”

“I thought you were ill.” He noted the way she avoided answering his question.

“Didn’t you find it strange that they sought to tie an ill man?”

She shifted about as if agitated. “I didn’t know about that until I got inside the wagon myself and saw you lying on the floor of it.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I tried to leave.”

“Then?”

She held up a small piece of cloth that had been lying beside him. “I ungagged you.”

That was not what he wanted to hear. Surely she had done something other than blithely submit to their capture.

“How wonderfully considerate of you. Did you not think to remove the rest of my bindings?”

“Aye, but they are too tight. I would need a dagger to loosen them.”

Ewan took a deep breath and tried not to be angry at her. After all, there were four men out there, and had she fought them, she most likely would have been hurt. At least this way, she was unharmed and able to help.

It was his own fault he’d let his guard down and been duped. There was no need to take his anger out on Nora.

“Look inside my right boot.”

She arched a brow at that. “You have a dagger on you?”

“Aye. Always.”

She reached for his knee and felt along his shin.

“The inside of my leg, Nora.”

She hesitated as if dreading to touch him in so personal a manner. Her face blushing, she did as he told her.

Ewan held his breath as her cool hand brushed against his inner calf. Her fingers felt wonderful as they carefully slid inside the leather, seeking his dagger that was hidden in a specially designed sheath.

Her touch was like silk against his skin, and it raised chills all over him.

Not to mention other things.

“Pull it out slowly,” he cautioned as she found it. “I’ve no wish to be maimed.”

She did, and her slow, careful movements only made him harden more as desire burned through
him. It was all he could do not to moan at the sensation.

What he wouldn’t give to have her soft, delicate hands on his back while he held her beneath him.

She bit her lip, making his body jerk with pleasure.

Once she had the dagger free, she cut the ropes that bound his hands.

Ewan let out a deep breath as he relaxed a degree and fought the urge to touch himself to help alleviate some of the discomfort from his erection. At the rate he was going, he was beginning to feel like Priapus, and if he didn’t find a way to ease his body, he was sure his health would be compromised by his unspent lust.

He took the dagger from her hand, cut the bonds on his feet, then returned it to his boot. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“It’s hard to say, but it feels like quite a few hours. We’ve been traveling at a steady pace the whole time.”

“Any idea why we’ve been taken?”

She shifted uncomfortably.

His stomach drew tight. “What did you do, Nora?”

“Nothing,” she said defensively. “I can’t help being who I am anymore than you can.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed and stared down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap. “I think they must have recognized me. They did say they had been
through Aquitaine and England. ’Tis quite possible they ran across Eleanor and—”

His temper exploded. “Would you stop with the Eleanor nonsense? I need you to be sane for a moment.”

She stiffened and glared at him. “I beg your pardon? What makes you think I would lie about something like that?”

“Because my brother is an advisor to King Henry, and if his niece was here in Scotland, Sin would have mentioned it.”

She looked even haughtier than she had before and pinned him with a disbelieving stare of her own. “Well, if your brother is so close to Henry, then why has he not heard of
me
?”

He was baffled by her logic. “What?”

“Mayhap your brother is not as close to Henry as he would lead you to believe. After all, what Scotsman would Henry trust near him? He has a very strong disliking for anyone born north of Hadrian’s Wall.”

This was ridiculous. Why would she not see reality? He needed her sane if they were to escape.

“That’s utter nonsense,” he snapped in his brother’s defense. “I have seen Henry embrace Sin myself.”

She made a rude noise at him. “I don’t believe you,” she said, her eyes narrowing to sharp amber points. “I know my uncle well. He embraces no one. Not even his sons.”

Ewan ran his hands over his face. The woman
was beyond sanity. For whatever reason, she firmly believed herself related to Eleanor.

Arguing with her would get him nowhere.

Which left him with the one burning question. Why had they really been abducted?

What did the gypsies hope to get out of this?

Lochlan would sooner die than ever part with coin for Ewan’s life. His brother would expect him to get himself out of this mess, and well he would.

There was no other reason to abduct him.

Mayhap Nora was the reason for it, after all. Like as not, her father was someone important, and he would probably pay a king’s ransom for his daughter’s return. Any decent father would, and though the lass was delusional, she was rather endearing at times.

“Where do you think they are taking us?” she asked.

“I have no idea. Did they say anything to you?”

“They said they would take us to Lochlan’s castle. But I don’t think that’s where we’re headed.”

“Truly now?”

She stiffened at his sarcasm. “You don’t have to mock me.”

Ewan leaned his head back against the wagon’s wall behind him and closed his eyes. How had he gotten himself into this? All he’d wanted was to drown out his pain with some ale.

He should be at home in his bed, oblivious to the world. Instead he was trapped in a rickety
wagon with a woman who had no comprehension of the virtue of silence.

“Where do you think they’ll take us?” Nora asked. “You think they have a cell waiting for us? Perhaps it’s some noble’s castle. But who would dare to keep a MacAllister in their lair? I wonder if they’ll cut off your ear or mine as proof that they have us. My father oft tells the story of his grandfather whose hand was taken as proof of his capture by his enemies when they held him for ransom.”

She held her hand up and studied it in the dim light. “I should hate to lose my hand. I’m sure you feel the same way. A man’s hand is a necessary thing. I wonder what else they might take…”

“Mayhap they’ll take your tongue as proof.”

She frowned at him. “My tongue? How would that prove anything? I should imagine one tongue would look the same as any other.”

“Aye, but the mere fact they cut it out would tell him that they did indeed hold you and not some other.”

She glared at him, but at least it bought him a small reprieve.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long before she started in again asking him all manner of questions about where they were headed and what awaited them.

As the minutes ticked by slowly, Ewan began to hope it was his ears they took after all.

He wanted to listen to the people outside the wagon for clues, but all he heard was Nora’s endless conjectures.

She’d been right. She did make enough chatter for a whole family of people.

And even though it should anger him, he found himself conversing with her a bit. She was a creative and intelligent lass whose imagination knew no bounds as she ran through various scenarios of what could happen to them.

“You know,” she said as she picked at her brat. “They say there are dragons in the hills. Mayhap they’ll take us there to feed one. I never really believed in dragons, but this peddler came once to our home and he had a bite wound. It was this big.” She held her arms out to a good size. “And he had it on his arm. He said a dragon had bitten him as a young man.”

“How old were you when he told this story?”

“Ten and two.”

“Perhaps he made it up to entertain you.”

“Perhaps, but he looked terribly sincere about it. Do you think there are dragons? I should like to meet one if there are…”

Ewan shook his head at her while she continued on with her stories. The lady loved to talk as much as he loathed it.

At last the wagon stopped and so did Nora’s prattle. She cocked her head to listen.

Ewan heard the muffled voices from outside.

“Think he be awake by now?” Ewan wasn’t sure which of the men spoke.

“He should be,” Catarina answered. “I only gave him a bit of the root, and considering his size, it should have worn off a while back.”

“Poor man,” another one said. “Imagine being locked in the back with the woman’s tongue. No doubt he’ll be wanting all our heads for it.”

Nora gaped indignantly.

“I think we should keep him unconscious.” That was definitely Lysander’s voice. “He’ll be more than angry at us and I’ve no wish to taste his wrath.”

“That would defeat the purpose, now wouldn’t it?” Catarina asked. “Nay, we have to be getting the man up at some point.”

Ewan scowled at that. What did they mean?

“Let’s open it then, and see if he’s up.” It was the first man again.

Then a small slit was opened in the back of the wagon and a pair of black eyes peeped in.

It was Bavel.

“He’s loose,” Bavel said. “The lady must have untied him.”

“I thought you said you tied him well,” Catarina inserted testily.

“I did.”

Bavel was moved out of the way and Catarina’s blue eyes stared inside. “Hand me your ropes,” she demanded.

“Why?” Ewan asked.

“Well, if you be wanting out of there to attend to your business, you’d be best doing as you’re told.”

“Just let them out, Cat,” Viktor said.

She refused. “Not until I see those ropes. I want to know how they got them off him.”

Ewan pulled Nora back as she started to comply. “You’ve no need to see the ropes, lass. Let us out.”

“Ha!”

Ewan ground his teeth. What was it with this day that he was cursed with women who didn’t know their places?

Nora shrugged off his hold and handed one of the ropes to Catarina through the slot.

“What are you doing?” Ewan asked her through his clenched teeth.

“Getting us out,” she hissed back.

“See,” Catarina said triumphantly. “The rope’s been cut. They have a dagger in there. Had you opened the door, one of us would most likely be dead now.”

“Hand over the dagger!” Lysander snarled.

Ewan scoffed at the thought.

Hand over his only weapon? Never.

“Nay.”

“Then the two of you can just stay in there,” Catarina said.

“There’s one wee problem,” Nora said. “I really need to leave the wagon.”

“Why?” Viktor asked.

“I have to…umm…I just need to leave the wagon. Very soon.”

Ewan cursed as he caught her meaning. Leave it to a woman to have no control over her body.

Catarina was the one who answered. “Then you’d best be making your man hand over his dagger.”

Nora looked up at him imploringly.

“Nora, I can’t give them my dagger. If I do that, we’re defenseless.”

“Ewan, I have to leave the wagon. I can’t wait much longer.”

The slot opened and a metal chamber pot was slid through it. “Never let it be said we lack mercy,” Catarina said.

“Oh, but you can’t be serious,” Nora said as she eyed it with distaste. “I’ll not be using that with him in here with me. ’Tis indecent!”

“I won’t look.”

Nora was aghast at Ewan’s words. The man was truly a barbarian to even suggest she do such a thing while they were in such tight quarters.

Not to mention they were unmarried. Unbetrothed.

Unsuitable.

He was mad!

“Nay! I’ll not be using that. You hand over that dagger right now, Ewan MacAllister, or I swear I shall talk until your ears bleed.”

He grimaced at the threat.

She could see the indecision in his eyes.

“Ewan, please,” she tried again. “I truly have to go outside.”

Growling under his breath, he removed the dagger from his boot again and handed it hilt first through the slot to the gypsies.

“Are you happy now?” he asked, his tone surly.

“Aye. Thrilled.” She turned back toward Catarina, “Now may I be let out?”

The door opened slowly to show Lysander and Bavel holding swords angled at them.

Viktor and Pagan stood back. Viktor looked nervous, while Pagan looked as if he were withholding laughter.

Nora descended the wagon and watched the armed men carefully.

Both men had their attention trained on Ewan, who stood assessing them as well. He was coiled like a snake, ready to strike, and both men knew it.

Nora bit her bottom lip as she weighed what she should do. Oh bother that, she knew what she needed to do. It was the only way to keep Ewan from attacking them and killing one of the fools.

Stumbling against Lysander, she caught his wrist that held the sword and gave a sharp twist with her hand.

The sword came free as she used her unexpected weight to unbalance him. She pulled her skirt up and wrapped it around her left hand, then turned to confront Bavel, whose face paled con
siderably as he looked about trying to decide if he should fight her or not.