The Magnificent Rogue (6 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: The Magnificent Rogue
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Gavin was still staring at Kate’s face. “Do you think she looks like Mary Stuart?”

“How do I know? I’ve never seen Mary.”

“I saw a painting once, and we’ve both heard her described.…” His gaze went over the small nose, the mouth with its fuller lower lip, the arched brows. “What color are her eyes?”

Golden-brown eyes staring up at him without fear
.

“Brown.”

“Well, that’s the same, but her features have no regularity. She’s certainly not as comely as Mary.”

“Maybe she takes after her father. Shrewsbury is no
Adonis.” Where the hell was that woman with the hot water? The girl’s feet were ice cold.

“Maybe.” Gavin’s eyes began to twinkle. “I was hoping for something better for you. However, the lass is scarce more than a child. Perhaps she’ll improve with age. I’d hate to have you saddled with an ugly wife.”

Robert gave him a quelling glance. “Go back downstairs and sit by the fire.”

“You’d send me back to that dragon?” He sighed and moved toward the door. “Very well.”

“And keep Landfield from coming up here,” Robert called.

“It’s doubtful he would try to hurt her while you’re here,” Gavin said as he pulled the door closed.

That wasn’t what Robert was worried about. He wasn’t certain if he could keep himself from skewering the man if he came within striking distance. He knew the anger he was feeling was all out of proportion. Though the punishment appeared extreme, custom gave guardians the full right to punish their wards in any way they saw fit. The girl was not hurt badly, and she was nothing to him.

No, not nothing. She was going to be his wife. He had thought of her only as the “girl,” the albatross Elizabeth was trying to fasten permanently around his neck. Now, suddenly, this scrawny bit of flotsam was a person and soon to be his possession. It did not seem to matter that he intended that possession to be of the most temporary nature.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of mud-coated hair from the girl’s cheek.

And, by God, no one damaged something that belonged to him.

Kate slowly opened her lids to see a man’s face only inches from her own. Dark eyes … hollow cheeks, well-shaped lips that made her want to reach up and
trace their curve. How odd, when she had never wanted to touch any man before …

Safety. Well-being. Home.

The overwhelming impression came out of nowhere but was not unfamiliar. Though she could not recall where she had seen this face, she could remember a warm sense of security connected with it. Strange, when he did not appear either secure or tame now that she studied him.

He reminded her of one of the wild Gypsy folk who occasionally traveled through the village, but his clothing was much too fine. The large round pendant hanging from a heavy gold chain shimmered against the black velvet of his doublet, and the short cape he wore was simple but elegant.

“Who …?” Her voice was so thin, she could scarcely hear it herself. She tried again. “Who are you?”

“Robert MacDarren.” His deep voice held a hint of a Scots brogue. “How do you feel?”

“Well.”

“Liar,” he said crisply. “You’re covered from head to foot in mud, and you’re probably one big bruise.”

The lack of gentleness in his tone jolted her to full wakefulness and immediately dispersed that feeling of contentment. She must have been mad to think this man safe when he was clearly hard, distant, and without compassion. Memory swirled back to her. The trail. He had been the man on the trail. “What are you doing here? Are you a physician?”

He shook his head.

No, he didn’t have the look of a healer, but Sebastian never let strangers into the house unless there was need. “Are you—”

“I’m the earl of Craighdhu. I come from the queen.”

“The lady?” Another messenger. That explained the fine clothes and air of bold confidence.

His dark eyes narrowed on her face. “Why do you call her that?”

She looked at him in confusion. The other messengers had not had to be told. They had phrased their orders with care, making certain that the source of their authority remained anonymous. “Because no one must know, of course.”

His lips tightened. “I see. And I suppose no one must know how Landfield treats you? I’m sure that must—”

“You’ll have to come down and talk to him, Robert.”

Her gaze flew to the man who had spoken and was standing in the doorway. Curly red hair, freckles, not much older than herself. Another stranger, but one far less intimidating than the Gypsy in the chair beside the bed.

“She’s awake?” The man came a step into the room, his face alight with interest as he studied her. “Ah, that’s better. The eyes are really magnificent. You may not be as bad off as I feared, Robert.” He bowed. “I’m Gavin Gordon, and I’m delighted to meet you, Mistress Kentyre.”

Robert didn’t give her a chance to reply as he asked impatiently, “Why should I come downstairs?”

Gavin’s glance shifted to Robert. “Oh, the old man is roaring. He wants to see you.”

“Later.”

Gavin shrugged. “As you like, but he won’t let the woman bring up the hot water to wash the mud off her.”

MacDarren made a low exclamation, and the chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. “Damn him, the stuff is beginning to cake on her.” He started for the door and then paused to look back at Kate. The harshness was gone from his voice when he said, “Try to go to sleep. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Gavin followed him out of the room and closed the door.

Everything’s going to be fine
.

The words had been spoken with such cool authority that for a moment she almost believed him. He came from the lady, and Sebastian was always careful in dealing with those emissaries who came to receive reports and give instructions regarding her upbringing. Perhaps she could appeal to him to save Caird. He appeared to possess a boldness and arrogance that had not been apparent in the other messengers. He might intercede with Sebastian on her behalf.

But then he would go away.

They always went away, and she would be alone again. She was always alone. Sebastian would be free once more to do whatever he wished.

However, the man was here now and distracting Sebastian’s attention from her. She must not depend on anyone but herself. She had to seize the opportunity that presented itself.

She threw back the blanket and slowly sat up on the bed.

She gasped as pain shot through her shoulders. MacDarren was right about the bruises. Every muscle in her body cried in protest at the movement.

She was barefoot, she realized. Where were her shoes and stockings? She found them and put them on with stiff, fumbling fingers.

She could not leave by the front door, but that presented no problem. The bedroom window had been her escape many times before. She had only to hang by her arms from the windowsill and let herself drop to the ground.

She shuddered at the thought of putting extra strain on muscles already oversore. She cast a longing glance at the bed. How she wanted to lie back down and draw the covers up around her.

But if she didn’t go now, heaven knows when she’d
get another chance to escape, and Caird was alone in the woods.

She took a deep breath and opened the window.

Sebastian Landfield stood in front of the hearth with his hands clasped behind his back, the flames lighting the meagerness of his wiry body.

“You wanted to see me?” Robert asked as he strode into the parlor.

“I most certainly do.” Landfield fixed him with a stern glance. “I’ve been trying to be patient, but I find your interference intolerable, my lord.”

“How unfortunate,” Robert said dryly. “But if you’ve read Her Majesty’s letter, you’ll realize you no longer have any right to object. The girl is mine.”

“No!” Landfield took a deep breath and then said with less violence, “I’m sure Her Majesty does not realize what a mistake it would be to take her from my care at this delicate time. She is not ready to be left without supervision.”

“As her husband, I’ll provide any supervision necessary.”

“You’ll not be able to provide the guidance she needs. You don’t understand her. If she leaves me now, you’ll undo all I’ve worked to accomplish.”

“I believe I’m capable of controlling one frail girl.” He smiled grimly. “And, if I have difficulties, I can always drag her behind my horse for a mile or two.”

“You think me cruel?” Landfield asked harshly. “You know
nothing
. The punishment would scarcely affect her. She has a strength you would find unbelievable.”

Robert had a fleeting memory of the pitiful fragility of the girl he had just left. Od’s bodkin, the man was crazed. “The matter is closed. Tell your wife to take the water upstairs.”

“The matter is not closed.” Landfield’s pale eyes blazed with fury. “You will listen to me. I will not see
her sent out into the world to wreak destruction as her mother has done. The queen must have told you whose child she is when she arranged this marriage. Do you know what evil lies waiting within her? Every day she changes and grows more like that Catholic whore at Fotheringhay. You cannot marry her. She must wed no one. She is a Lilith.”

“Who the devil is Lilith?”

“The first wife of Adam in Eden, the temptress, the mother of wickedness. Once she has you in her clutches, she will tempt and lure until you are helpless before her. She will mold you like wet clay.”

Robert heard a sound like a smothered snort from Gavin, standing in the doorway behind him. Gavin’s reaction mirrored his own. The idea of that mud-soaked urchin upstairs being a Lilith and able to turn strong men weak was totally ludicrous. He had had enough of this nonsense.

“Gavin, go to the kitchen and help Madam take that hot water upstairs.” Robert turned back to Landfield as Gavin left the room and said coldly, “I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I’m in no danger from a fledgling lass.”

“You think you can master her when I still have not conquered her after all these years?” His lips thinned. “But I
will
conquer her, body and soul. Her Majesty must give me the opportunity. She must not be taken away.”

He was tired of talking to this vicious old man. “As I said, the matter is closed. We will leave at dawn if the girl is well enough.”

Two bright spots appeared in Landfield’s cheeks. “You cannot let her—”

“Robert?”

They both turned to see Gavin in the doorway, an uneasy expression on his face.

“She’s gone,” he said.

Robert stiffened. “What?”

“She’s gone. The window was open. And …” He waved a hand. “Gone.”

“How could she be gone? Her chamber is on the second floor, and she could barely lift her head—”

“I told you.” Landfield smiled triumphantly. “A will of iron. Can’t you see what trouble she will bring you? She needs a firm hand to keep her in—”

“Come on, Gavin.” Robert cut off the vicar in midsentence as he strode toward the door. “She can’t have gone far, and she’ll be easy to track in all this mud.”

“Shall I get the horses?”

“No time. We’ll go on foot.”

She was being followed!

Sebastian?

Kate paused a moment on the trail and caught a glimpse of dark hair and the shimmer of the gold necklace about her pursuer’s neck. Not Sebastian. Robert MacDarren.

The wild surge of disappointment she felt at the realization was completely unreasonable. He must have come at Sebastian’s bidding, which meant her guardian had persuaded him to his way of thinking. Well, what had she expected? He was a stranger, and Sebastian was a respected man of the cloth. There was no reason why he would be different from any of the others. How clever of Sebastian to send someone younger and stronger than himself to search her out, she thought bitterly.

She turned and began to run, her shoes sinking into the mud with every step. She glanced over her shoulder.

He was closer. He was not running, but his long legs covered the ground steadily, effortlessly, as his gaze studied the trail in front of him. He had evidently not seen her yet and was only following her tracks.

She was growing weaker. Her head felt peculiarly
light, and her breath was coming in painful gasps. She couldn’t keep running.

And she couldn’t surrender.

Which left only one solution to her dilemma. She sprinted several yards ahead and then darted into the underbrush at the side of the trail.

Hurry. She had to hurry. Her gaze frantically searched the underbrush. Ah, there was one.

She pounced on a heavy branch, backtracked several yards and held it, waiting beneath the dripping trees.

She must aim for the head. She had the strength for only one blow, and it must drop him.

Her breathing sounded heavy and terribly loud. She had to breathe more evenly, or he would hear her.

He was almost upon her.

Her hands tightened on the branch.

He went past her, his expression intent as he studied the tracks.

She drew a deep breath, stepped out on the trail behind him, and swung the branch with all her strength!

He grunted in pain and then slowly crumpled to the ground.

She dropped the branch, ran past his body and darted down the trail again.

Something struck the back of her knees. She was falling!

She hit the ground so hard, the breath left her body. Blackness swirled around her.

When the darkness cleared, she realized she was on her back, her arms pinned on either side of her head. Robert MacDarren was astride her body.

She started to struggle.

“Lie still, dammit.” His hands tightened on her arms. “I’m not—Ouch!”

She had turned her head and sunk her teeth into
his wrist. She could taste the coppery flavor of blood in her mouth, but his grip didn’t loosen.

“Let me go!” How stupidly futile the words were when she knew he had no intention of releasing her.

She tried to butt her head against his chest, but she couldn’t reach him.

“Really, Robert, can’t you wait until the vows are said before you climb on top of her?” Gavin Gordon said from behind MacDarren.

“It’s about time you got here,” MacDarren said in a growl. “She’s trying to kill me.”

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