The Magnificent Rogue (11 page)

Gavin shook his head as he finished the beef on his plate. “I slept well.” He grinned. “And you certainly gave me plenty of time to rest. I was wondering if you were going to stir before evening.”

“So was I. The girl was exhausted.”

“And of course you had to pamper the child.”

“Why the devil do you keep calling her a child?” As he saw Gavin’s smile of satisfaction, Robert tempered the violence in his tone. “And I didn’t pamper
her. Every commander knows that to push a soldier when he’s exhausted is to court trouble.”

“Hmm.” Gavin popped a slice of apple into his mouth. “And here I was, sitting here imagining you in the toils of Cupid. Oh, I know she was exhausted last night, but you had all morning to consummate the happy nuptials.” He snapped his fingers. “But that’s right. You have no use for mudlarks. How could I forget?”

“You forget nothing you wish to remember.”

“But she did clean up well, didn’t she?” He smiled mischievously. “You weren’t even tempted to linger awhile?”

Robert had a fleeting memory of Kate staring up at him, her eyes wide, uncertain, that pouty mouth closing around his finger. Dammit, he was hardening again. He turned abruptly toward the door. “Let’s go to the stable. I want to take a look at that mare.”

Gavin didn’t move. “The mare’s fine. And you didn’t answer me. Weren’t you tempted to—”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Gavin.”

“I think you
were
tempted. Poor Robert. It’s very difficult, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure you’re going to elaborate on that.”

“Aye, I feel it’s my duty.” He took the last slice of apple and chewed it thoughtfully. “You want to bed her, but you can’t because she’s your wife. It’s very amusing.”

“I’m glad you find it so. I assure you, if I choose to bed her, I will do so.”

“Ah, the wind’s shifted.” Gavin laughed in delight. “I thought I saw the signs last night. But I still don’t think you will. In fact, I’ll wager you won’t. Two pounds. Taken?”

“Why are you so sure?”

“Because in many ways she’s still a child in need, and you’ve been trained to care for those who need
you, not steal from them. Everyone at Craighdhu knows that.”

“But she doesn’t belong to Craighdhu,” Robert reminded him softly.

“But she belongs to you.”

“For a year.”

“All the more reason not to steal something that will bring pleasure to the next man who takes her in marriage.”

The next man who lay in bed with her, who plunged between her thighs and sampled that tightness he had just denied himself. Robert’s expression carefully hid the rage that tore through him at the thought. “But I’m so good at stealing.”

“Only from the Spanish, not from big-eyed children.”

His lips tightened in annoyance. “I told you, she’s not a child. I assure you, there’s no one more wary or barbed than—” He broke off as he saw Kate coming down the stairs.

She was dressed in the same brown wool cape she had worn previously, but her hair was now in a neat single braid. She moved with a springy step, color bloomed in her cheeks, and her eyes flashed with life. He had never seen a woman more boldly alive, and yet there was still a touch of that fragile eagerness he had seen in her when he had told her he would give her a home of her own.

Gavin gave a low whistle. “Never mind. Let’s forget it.”

Robert didn’t take his eyes from Kate. “Never mind what?”

“The wager. You’re staring at her as you did that very first galleon we took from the Spanish.” He took a step forward as Kate reached the bottom of the stairs. “Good morning, my lady. Do you remember me?”

“Of course I do.”

She was smiling at Gavin with an openness she
had never displayed toward Robert. Her attitude had always reflected wariness or distrust toward him. Why did it annoy him? Everyone always smiled at Gavin.

“How could she forget you?” Robert abruptly turned on his heel and strode toward the door. “It’s time we got on the road. Bring her along to the stable.”

Kate’s smile faded as she watched Robert leave the inn. “What did I do?”

“He’s annoyed with me, not you. As usual, my tongue ran away with me.” Gavin changed the subject. “Did you have time to eat? You came down so quickly.”

“I had a bite or two while I said good-bye to Carolyn. I was too excited to eat.”

“Well, it’s not every day a lass is wed.”

“Wed?” She shook her head. “He’s going to give me a house, a place of my own.”

He chuckled. “And a house is better than a bridegroom?”

She looked at him uncertainly. “Are we truly wed? It all seems most strange.”

“Aye, handfast is as legal as standing before a man of God in Scotland.”

“But we’re not in Scotland.”

“Robert is a Scot. That makes it binding right enough.”

She felt a rush of relief. “Then it is all right.”

He nodded. “And the only way Robert could best Her Majesty. He was not at all pleased with her.”

“Why would he want to best—”

“I’ll tell you once we’re on the road.” Gavin took her elbow and guided her toward the door. “Robert wants us at the stable, and I’ve caused him enough irritation for one morning. It’s always best to dole out impudence in small doses so that he doesn’t choke on it.” He added ruefully, “Or choke me.”

She found herself smiling again. How strange that she was so easy in Gavin’s presence. She had no desire
to withdraw into herself as was her custom. Perhaps it was that his sunny demeanor reminded her of Carolyn’s, and she suspected it masked the same kindness. “You don’t appear to be overfearful of him.”

“That’s because I belong to Craighdhu. A certain amount of liberty is always given to the denizens of Craighdhu.”

“No, it’s more than that.” She had noticed a bonding, an easy familiarity that was not that of lord and minion. “You’ve known each other a long time?”

He glanced at her appraisingly. “You have sharp eyes and know how to use them.” He nodded. “We grew up together.”

“Like brothers?”

“At first.” He frowned. “But later it changed.…”

“Why?”

“He changed.” He added wistfully, “
They
changed him.”

“Who?”

He shrugged. “Robert doesn’t like us to talk about it.”

It was clear that subject was closed. “But you’re kinsmen? Your names are different.”

“Most of the clans have intermarried. My mother was a MacDarren and married a Gordon. When he died, she brought me back to Craighdhu. She never liked the Lowlands. No Highlander does.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

He made a face. “Too rich and fat.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Aye, you’ll know what I mean when we reach Craighdhu.” He guided her around a puddle. “But we’ll stop overnight with my uncle, Angus Gordon, once we reach the border. He’s not a bad man … for a Lowlander.”

She was amused at the qualification. “I’ll look forward to meeting him. He’s not fat and rich then?”

“Oh, he’s rich enough, but his reiving keeps him lean and hungry.”

“Reiving?”

“Raiding,” he explained. “He raids the English on this side of the border.”

“You mean he
steals
?” she asked in astonishment.

“Of course. But only from the English,” he added quickly. “He wouldn’t steal from a Scot.”

“And you believe that makes stealing right?”

“Well, perhaps not right.” He frowned as if trying to work out the ethics. “But it’s custom.”

She shook her head dazedly as she thought of how Sebastian would view this calm acceptance of the breaking of holy law. “And do you … reive, also?”

“Well, not exactly. Not from the English.” He opened the barn door and stepped inside to let her precede him. “Of course, there was that one English ship, but Robert only meant to—Robert prefers to raid the Spanish.”

“I see.” She did not see at all. She felt more bewildered and uneasy with every hesitant step into this new world where it seemed it was perfectly all right to be an outlaw, as long as the crime was aimed at the right party.

“You’ll be fine.” She turned to see Gavin smiling gently at her. “It only takes getting used to. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

“Will you?” Her spirits lifted as warmth flowed through her. Why should she be afraid, when this was exactly what she had wanted? She had fought to free herself from Sebastian and all his restrictions, but if she had escaped him before, she would have been alone. Now she had Gavin Gordon to help her through these first steps. “Thank you.” A warm smile lit her face. “Then you’re right—I’ll be fine.”

“What do you think of her?” They both looked to see Robert leading Caird and a chestnut mare toward her. “She appears strong and gentle enough.”

Kate stepped forward and patted the mare’s nose. “She’s lovely,” she said. “What’s her name?”

“I didn’t ask,” Gavin admitted.

She frowned reprovingly. “Every creature deserves a name.”

“Sorry,” he said solemnly.

“I’ll call her Rachel.” She gave the mare a final pat, and then went around her to Caird and began stroking his muzzle. “How are you, boy?”

The piebald neighed and nudged her.

“He’s tired,” Robert said bluntly. “And he’ll get more tired. You said the innkeeper is a good man. We could leave him here.”

She tensed. “He is a good man, but he would have no use for Caird. How would I know who he would sell him to? You said he could come.”

“Dammit, you like the mare. Look at them together. She’s young and fit, and the piebald is old.”

“All the more reason to love and take care of him.”

“It’s no use, Robert,” Gavin said. “I have an idea the horse may be her Craighdhu.”

She could feel Robert’s gaze on her back as she leaned her forehead against Caird. He muttered something inaudible and then said to Gavin, “Saddle our horses and put a light pack on the piebald.” He grabbed Kate’s wrist in one hand and the mare’s reins in the other and pulled them both out of the barn into the stable yard. “You’ve made a mistake.”

His grasp on her wrist was generating a strange heat up her arm, and she tried to pull away. “Let me go.”

He ignored her. “The horse is going to be nothing but trouble. He’ll slow us down. We can’t afford to be slowed down now.”

She couldn’t deny that Caird would have that effect, so she merely set her jaw and glared at him.

“And don’t look at me like that. It makes me want to
break
you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Another prerogative of power. You’ll find I don’t break easily.”

“You’re wrong.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “All women are easily broken in one manner.”

For an instant she didn’t understand, and then his meaning became clear to her. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and she suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Aye.” His hands closed on her waist and lifted her slowly to the saddle. “We’ll not see a bed again until we reach the border, and I’d prefer to take you the first time on clean sheets than the cold ground. But don’t tempt me, Kate.”

She could feel the warmth of his hands through the layers of clothing, and it brought the same burning sensation as his grip on her wrist, spreading upward to her breasts, making them exquisitely sensitive. The response frightened her, and she snapped, “I’m not tempting you at all. It’s your own sinful, carnal nature.”

An indefinable expression flickered across his face. “Very sinful and very carnal,” he agreed softly. “And very impatient.” He turned to Gavin, who was leading Caird and their own horses out of the barn. “Wager taken. Two pounds.”

Gavin’s troubled gaze went from Robert’s reckless smile to Kate’s flushed face and then back again. “I don’t like this. I think I want to withdraw the wager. It makes me feel responsible.”

“No? Too bad. The wager stands. And I intend to like it very much indeed.” Robert turned away. “Carnal sinner that I am.”

Kate watched him mount his horse and trot out of the stable yard before she turned to Gavin. “Wager?”

“It’s nothing.” Gavin smiled at her. “Only another example of my runaway tongue.” He got on his horse. “But it seems you must have a less than discreet tongue yourself. You should not sting Robert until you learn the way to do it without suffering the consequences. Watch me, and I’ll show you.”

•    •    •

Robert set a grueling pace that afternoon. In three hours Kate’s every muscle was stiff and sore. By the time they stopped at sundown at a clearing near a small brook, she had to struggle just to stay in the saddle.

“I’ll take the horses down to the brook to water them,” Gavin said as he lifted Kate to the ground. “Sit down and rest.”

She shook her head. “They’re mine. I can do it.” She took the mare’s and Caird’s reins and led them down the path through the forest toward the brook. She knelt and splashed her face, vaguely aware of Robert and Gavin talking a few yards down the bank but too tired to comprehend their words.

When she lifted her head a few minutes later, Gavin was no longer there, but Robert stood leaning against a tree, watching her.

She tensed, then deliberately sat back on her heels and straightened her shoulders. “You need not wait for me, my lord. I can make my way back on my own. I was just refreshing myself.”

“And trying to keep from fainting,” he said roughly. “For God’s sake, don’t lie to me. I know how weak you must feel. I drove you hard today.”

“I’m not used to long hours in the saddle. I’ll do better tomorrow.” She forced herself to get to her feet and gather the horses’ reins. “I’ll help Gavin to—”

“Gavin doesn’t need help.”

“His wound—”

“His wound is mending.” Robert stepped forward, tossed her up on the mare again, and gathered both horses’ reins. “And he would not appreciate your cosseting him. He’s a Highlander.”

“And Highlanders do not care for each other?”

“We take care of our own. We don’t ask help from outsiders.”

Outsiders
. The word struck a hollow, hurtful note within her. Yes, that was what she was, what she had always
been. From the moment she had been born, she had been the one outside looking in.

“For God’s sake, why do you look like that?” Robert’s gaze was on her face. “Very well, help him. Drive yourself until you collapse. Why should I care?”