The MacKinnon's Bride (21 page)

“
We should go now,” he
said, and Page’s heart knotted with regret.

“
Yes,” Page replied
softly, sullenly. “Afore it gets dark.”

He chuckled and squeezed her playfully.
“Och, lass, but it is dark,” he pointed out jovially.

His laughter and his waggish tone brought a
reluctant smile to Page’s lips. She found herself teasing in
return. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He laughed softly. “Didn’t ye now?” And then
his mood turned serious. “Page,” he whispered.

For an instant Page could scarce breathe, so
much pain did the single word evoke. It wasn’t a name she’d been
given; she’d simply grown into it, having carried out a page’s
duties for her father. It spoke of loneliness and sorrow and
disdain.

Suisan was beautiful. Lilies. A wistful
smile came to her lips. He’d said he thought her lovely and sweet,
but she thought him wonderful and beautiful and kind, and her heart
threatened to steal away with him.

Without considering the significance of her
request, she said, “Call me Suisan... if it please you...”

He didn’t reply at once, and then after a
moment whispered, “Aye, lass... it would please me verra much.”

That night Page couldn’t sleep.

Her heart raced and her body thrilled with
awareness of the man who lay sleeping beside her. It was impossible
to forget the way it had felt to lie within his arms—as though it
were the very place she’d always longed to be, and she never wanted
to leave.

But she had to go.

She was more determined now than ever.

For her own sake, if not for her
father’s—she didn’t want Iain coming after her, didn’t want to lose
her father now that there was, at long last, a chance to know
him.

She didn’t want him to regret his
decision.

Then, too, she was heartily afraid she was
wrong about the attraction she was feeling toward Iain
MacKinnon—that it wasn’t one of the body, but one of the heart and
mind.

Aye, for she was tempted to love him.

When she thought of him, her heart seemed to
swell with emotions—both bitter and sweet. Lying next to him now,
she felt alive as never before.

Suisan.

The memory of his whisper sent a quiver down
her spine.

When he spoke the name, it was so easy to
dream... to imagine him loving her... to envision the children she
would bear him... to remember his kiss...

She closed her eyes, battling her wayward
emotions and her private fancies. Jesu, but she couldn’t allow
it—couldn’t give her heart to this man. He would crush it beneath
his feet, with no more effort than it took for him to conjure that
devastating smile.

She shifted upon the pallet, inadvertently
tugging at the wrist he had bound to his own, and her throat
tightened.

Tomorrow.

She had to find a way to leave on the
morrow.

chapter 18

She was planning escape.

He was no fool. He could see it in her eyes,
the devious little brain churning behind them.

Good.

Let her. He hoped she stumbled into a gullet
and wolves dragged her out and feasted upon her body as they had
Ranald’s—the bloody damned Judas!

’
Twould be for the best,
he thought, for then he could save the sawed girdings for
Malcom...

He’d determined to be rid of the both of
them, no matter what it took, and it would be better to do it
before they arrived again at Chreagach Mhor, where Malcom was like
to be watched closely.

Damn, but he’d waited far too long to see
vengeance carried out. He’d as lief be gutted than wait any
longer.

No Sassenach wench was going to stop him.
Damn Iain. She’d bewitched the fool for certain. And he didn’t see
how. She was a foulmouthed wench who would have turned his own
blood to ice long before she chanced to heat it.

Christ, but he could spy it in their eyes...
the way they watched each other when either thought the other could
not see. It had been revolting enough to watch Iain draw her into
his protection, when she no more deserved it than her bastard
father did. But to know that he’d gone back after the scraps of her
clothing, in order to prevent her escape? He could scarce stomach
the thought.

Aye, Iain was a fool, but that was well and
good, for a fool smitten by a woman was a fool of the greatest
sort.

He planned to make short work of this
requital. Iain would never know what befell him... until the moment
ere he closed his whoreson eyes .. . and then he would tell
him...

Everything.

Aye, he’d watch the bastard suffer the truth
as he finally closed his eyes —just as he’d envisioned doing to
Iain’s father.

In the meanwhile, he watched the scene
before him with an inward smile, waiting for just the proper moment
to step into the fray.

“
What harm can come of my
washing in the lake?” Page asked, her tone fraught with
challenge.

She’d nigh had them convinced, and then
Angus had been quick to remind them of her midnight swim, and the
fact that she’d attempted to use the lake to make her escape,
nearly succeeding in the endeavor. It seemed the majority of them
could not swim, after all. She gave the old man a withering look,
and informed him resolutely, “Well, the MacKinnon promised me a
wash, and a wash I’ll be getting!” And she turned about to make her
way down to the water’s edge, daring them to stop her.

Angus placed himself within her path, and
Page swore beneath her breath. Rot and curse these stubborn Scots!
“Ye’ll be takin’ one when the MacKinnon returns, and no’ a minute
sooner!”

Page didn’t dare wait for his return. “And
when might that be?” she asked. “Where has he gone?”

“
To clean up ye’re bluidy
mess,” the old man said cryptically, standing stubbornly before
her, arms akimbo.

“
You are a mulish, bearish
old man!” she told him angrily. “Why is it you persist in plaguing
me so? Isn’t it enough that you steal me away from my home, keep me
in fetters and abuse me with your mouths? You would have me live in
filth, as well? I am not accustomed to sleeping upon the dirty
ground and I need a bath!”

“
Och! I dinna wish to even
trouble myself, ye saucy Sassenach wench! Though for some
godforsaken reason, the MacKinnon is thinkin’ to keep ye!” He
thumped his chest with a hand. “I’ll be seein’ that he
does!”

Canny old man! Though they trembled, Page’s
hands went to her hips in challenge. “Aye? And where might I go,
prithee?”

He didn’t reply, and Page stood there
staring, inviting him to answer. By God, she was going to escape
this morning if it killed her!

Last eve she’d thought to never have another
opportunity, but this morning one had presented itself like a
miracle from Heaven. She’d been only half-awake when the MacKinnon
had risen and unfettered himself from her, but in enough of a weary
stupor that she’d not bothered to open her eyes. Nor had she dared
to face him. And then he had gone—to Christ knew where, for there
yet no sign of him and she felt desperate to leave before he
returned.

Before he could look at her with that knee-
weakening, soul-stirring gaze.

And leave, she would—if ever she could
convince the old fool standing before her that a bath was a
perfectly harmless pursuit.

“
Certainly you cannot be
afeared of me?” she taunted him.

Still he didn’t respond, merely continued to
eye her as though she were some evil sorceress about to perform her
witchery and vanish before his eyes. Page might have laughed at his
vigilant expression and ready stance, save that she was too angry
to indulge in even a shred of good humor.

“
Really!” she persisted.
“You cannot be afeared of me! Wherever would I go?” she asked a
little hysterically. Her eyes scanned the immediate horizon, once
again surveying her greatest vantage spot—where the forest trees
hung like curious old men over the lake. Their foliaged limbs
brushed the water’s edge, as though stretching downward for a cool
drink. It offered a temporary hideaway.

If she could ever get herself into the
lake.

The horses were also tethered near the far
bank.

It was perfect.

It was time to play upon their vanity, Page
decided, and her brow lifted in challenge. “Certainly the lot of
you... how many?” She peered about, counting, and then turned to
Angus. “I count at least a score of you,” she told him. “Certainly
you can manage a single weakly woman?”

“
Fie!” Angus
exclaimed.

“
Aye, Angus,” Dougal piped
in. “Surely we can manage a single weakly woman?”

Page nearly laughed aloud at the question in
his tone.

“
Fie!” Angus exclaimed
once more.

“
I dinna see anything
amiss wi’ allowin’ the lass to wash,” Broc interjected, stepping
into their midst, and eyeing her knowingly. Page was almost
thankful to the great behemoth. Almost, for then he added, “Och,
but I would be verra pleased if she would bathe herself, dirty as
she is. Can no’ ye smell that Sassenach stench?” he asked, and
laughed uproariously.

Page narrowed her eyes at him, thinking he
should say a prayer of thanks come nightfall that she’d not be
present to box his ears into oblivion. Jesu, but she’d like to
stomp him into the ground with booted feet! Arrogant Scotsmen!
She’d certainly had more than her fill of the lot of them! She cast
Broc a furious glance and said, turning to address a mottle-faced
Angus, “Follow me into the water, if you please... if you do not
trust me...”

“
Verra well, let her bathe
herself,” Lagan decreed, and then he waved a hand at the lot of
them standing idly about. “But follow her in. Dinna let her oot o’
your sight.”

Page met his gaze and shuddered, for she
could tell he did not like her, nor did he trust her. Were he to
have it his own way, he’d not afford her any opportunities.

“
Lagan!” Dougal protested.
“I dinna need a bluidy bath! I dinna want to follow her in! She can
bathe herself, and we can watch from the bank!”

“
I’ll bathe wi’ her,”
Kerwyn exclaimed, his tone fraught with inuendo. He laughed, amused
by himself.

“
And I,” agreed Kermichil,
sharing a private smile with Kerwyn.

Page shuddered at the lecherous looks that
suddenly appeared in their eyes, the knowing glances they exchanged
between them.

And then suddenly they were all peering at
each other just so, mumbling in their Scots tongue and laughing,
racing to strip down to their bare buttocks.

Page’s eyes went wide.

God’s truth! This, she hadn’t bargained
for!

All at once they began to stampede toward
her, and it no longer mattered that Angus stood between her and
safety. She gave a little shriek of alarm and ran toward the lake,
wading in quickly. The frigid water struck her like ice palms,
snatching her breath away, but she ignored the sting of her flesh
and rushed headlong into the deepest water.

Jesu, but neither had she expected it to be
so cold!

When she was far enough out that she could
no longer stand, and was certain no one had followed, she turned,
treading water, trying to stay afloat despite her billowing gown,
and watched, stupefied, as the entire lot of naked Scotsmen
frolicked like babes in the water. They had all of them discarded
their meager clothing and now stood in the shallow water, their
male anatomy bared to the breeze, splashing water at each other and
laughing uproariously. Though she’d definitely not mistaken the
lecherous glances they’d given her, they’d somehow forgotten even
her presence now, preoccupied as they were with their own
revelry.

Only Angus, Broc, and Lagan stood upon the
bank.

Grinning at the lot of them, Lagan walked
away without sparing Page a glance, shaking his head and laughing
as he went.

Broc, for his part, stood laughing—laughing
and scratching at his groin, the gesture too earnest to be
precisely obscene, and the thought struck Page suddenly that he was
the one man here who was in sore need of a bath. Jesu, but there
was no other way to rid himself of those fleas. In a momentary
lapse, she thought to tell him so, and then decided against it,
reminding herself that she didn’t care whether he ever rid himself
of the accursed contagion. The sour-tempered behemoth was no
concern of hers at all. Let him suffer the vermin, for all she
cared! She hoped he scored his skin raw!

Angus, on the other hand, stood glaring at
her—as though to blame her for the loss of good sense in the grown
men surrounding her. Well, she was certainly not to blame!

Her gaze traveled the lot of them. None of
them were paying her any mind. Kerwyn stood in shallow water,
bending over to dunk his gnarled head into the frigid lake. He
brought it up, shaking water like a wet beast, and making
horrendous noises that sounded to Page’s ears like a wounded
animal. To her amazement, she watched as Kermichil did the same,
and then stood waiting for Kerwyn to try again, as though they were
having some curious contest of sorts. Page could scarce imagine
what they might be competing over.

Whose head would turn blue first from the
cold?

Her teeth were chattering as her gaze
returned to the bank. Angus was waving for her to come nearer.
Though she was tempted to try to make her escape now, while the lot
of them were preoccupied, she did as he bade her, knowing that
Angus would foil her plan long before she set it into motion. The
old man was wily as a fox, and he was watching her too closely for
her to even attempt an escape as yet. The last thing she needed was
for him to begin shouting at her now and draw attention.