The Magnificent Rogue (9 page)

The girl’s eyes were wide with fear. “Please, my lord, come quickly. I cannot wake her.”

“What?” Robert jumped to his feet. “What the hell do you mean, you can’t wake her?”

“She fell asleep in the tub. That is, I think she is asleep. She may be ill. I shook her, but she only stirred and won’t—”

“Christ!” Robert was already out of the common room and taking two steps at a time.

Kate was lying in the hip bath, her head lolled back against the rim, her dark lashes arcs on her thin cheeks.

“Kate!”

She didn’t stir. He knelt beside the tub and shook her. “Kate!” Her color seemed good, and he could see the pulse pounding in her throat. Why the hell wouldn’t she wake up? He had heard of instances where men wounded in battle had managed to function perfectly until hostilities ceased and then succumbed to their wounds. Perhaps she was even now drifting away from him.

The thought made his grasp tighten on her shoulders. He shook her harder. “Are you deaf?
Talk
to me.”

Her lashes fluttered and then slowly opened. “What do you want me to say?” she whispered.

Relief tore through him. His grip loosened. “That’s enough. Now, stay awake until I get you out of this tub.” He turned to the servant hovering at his side. “Toweling.”

The woman scurried across the room and snatched a large piece of linen from the stool in front of the fire.

“She does appear to move from disaster to disaster, doesn’t she? I can only hope it’s not a sign for the future.” From behind him Gavin added politely, “Should I be turning my back?”

“You should be going down and getting her something to eat.”

“Right away.”

He heard Gavin’s steps fade away as he took the towel from the maid and ordered, “Turn down the bed.”

He began to dry Kate’s long hair. Her eyes were beginning to close again, he noticed with exasperation. “Don’t do that,” he said sharply.

She didn’t open her eyes. “Tired …”

“You can sleep later. You have to eat now.”

She shook her head.

“Christ!” He stood up and jerked her to her feet.

Her lids flew open, but her eyes were still misty with sleep.

After quickly wrapping the toweling around her, he lifted her into his arms, then carried her across the room and set her down on the bed. She gazed dumbly at him. He doubted she even knew he was there.

Carolyn was beside him, nervously nibbling at her lower lip. “Is she well?”

“Well enough.”

“It’s not like her to be—Shall I go for the physician?”

“No, leave us,” he ordered curtly.

“I think—” The girl broke off, hesitated, and then left the room.

He began to dry Kate briskly, starting at her shoulders and going down her torso. She wasn’t as thin as he had thought, he noticed absently, and her small breasts were exquisitely shaped.

Her eyes had closed again.

“How long has it been since you slept?”

“Three … days. I was afraid … Had to keep moving.”

“And how long since you ate?”

“Berries …”

Exhaustion and starvation and the terror of being stalked as prey, and yet she had borne that punishment with a stoicism that any of his clansmen would envy.

“Food,” Gavin announced from the doorway. He carried the tray he was bearing to the table in front of the fireplace and set it down before turning to appraise Kate. “She still looks asleep.”

“She’s awake. She’s in a sort of stupor.” He wrapped a blanket around Kate and lifted her in his arms. “And she’ll be better once her belly’s full.”

“If you can manage to get anything down her.” Gavin shook his head as he stared at Kate. “Why don’t you let her sleep now and eat later?”

“Because she needs strength, and food will give it to her.” He carried her to the chair by the fire. God, she felt light in his arms. He sat down and arranged her on his lap with her head on his shoulder. “Once she goes to sleep, I doubt if she’ll wake for hours.”

“So much for the plan to leave at dawn.” Gavin reached down and touched Kate’s cheek. “Who was to guess what wonderful skin was lurking under all that mud? Like satin …”

Without thinking, Robert quickly shifted Kate in his arms so that Gavin’s hand fell away from her.

Gavin’s eyes widened in surprise. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”

Robert’s response had startled himself as much as it had Gavin. He had acted instinctively, mindlessly, when he had seen Gavin’s hand on her. “She was slipping.”

“Was she? It looked like you were holding her tight
enough to me.” He yawned. “Well, unless you need me, I think I’ll go and take my own rest.”

“I don’t need you.” He put a bit of meat to Kate’s lips. “Open.”

Though her eyes remained closed, her lips obediently parted, and he put the pork on her tongue. She automatically began to chew.

At Gavin’s chuckle he looked up to see his cousin still standing at the doorway watching him. “You find something humorous?”

“She looks like a bairn, not a bride. And you look like a nursemaid who—”

“Good night, Gavin.”

Gavin took one look at Robert’s expression, and the smile vanished from his face. He quickly closed the door.

Robert resumed feeding Kate but managed to get her to eat only a few bites before she rebelled.

“No more …” she murmured, nestling closer.

He put the fork down. There was no use forcing her. He was surprised he had gotten her to eat as much as she had.

He started to get up from the chair.

“No!” Her eyes remained closed, but her hand clutched wildly at his doublet.

“Bed,” he said firmly. He was tired and hungry himself, and had no intention of sitting here all night.

Her head moved in an almost imperceptible shake of negation. “Safe … here.”

Safe
. The words struck him like a blow. She had probably had precious little security in the past, and it was doubtful she would have it in the future, but at this moment she felt safe with him. God only knew why; he had certainly not been overgentle with her. His arms tightened instinctively around her. Dammit, he supposed it would do no harm to stay here by the fire a little while longer. When she fell into a deeper sleep, he would move her to the bed across the room. She was so
exhausted that it shouldn’t take long. He leaned back in the chair and gazed into the fire.

The scent of burning cedar logs and the wax of the candle on the table drifted to him. And something else—the clean smell of soap.

The girl. He glanced down at her. Her hair was a wild shining brown-gold tangle against the gray blanket, and her skin was clean and glowing as the bairn Gavin had called her.

But she wasn’t a bairn. She was old enough to marry. She had a woman’s fleece, and her breasts, though small, were crowned with exquisite nipples that could nurse a child.

Or a man.

The thought of his mouth enveloping that breast sent a bolt of heat through him. He was hardening, readying. It shouldn’t have surprised him. Gavin was right—his appetites were strong, and it had been too long. But, God’s blood, he did not need this tonight.

He was unbearably conscious of the soft, womanly weight of her resting against him as he grew in dimension. He shifted her in his arms, but it did no good. She was
there
, her nakedness covered only by the thin wool of the blanket. With one hand he could brush aside the cover, and she would be open to fondling and more intimate exploration. He could turn her on his lap, free himself, and in one thrust be inside her.

He was throbbing, flexing, heat moving through him with every breath. Why not? She was nothing to him. A wife was for the taking, and no man would fault him for coupling with her. He did not have to spend within her. He could enjoy that tightness and then draw out before he loosed the seed that could be a danger to Craighdhu. He could satisfy his lust and steal something for himself from this devil’s bargain with Elizabeth.

He shifted her so that she sat squarely on him. His hands moved down to cup her slim buttocks before
they pressed her small body down against him. She was so tiny. A shudder racked him as he wondered how much of him she could take, how tight she would be when she closed around him. He pushed the blanket from her shoulders. Her shining hair flowed over her breasts, half-veiling the pink tips from view. Would she wake when his tongue touched her? Not yet. He wanted to feel the textures of her. He shifted her again, and his hands caressed down her naked back.

She flinched and murmured something.

And he saw the red weals on her back.

He knew those marks well. He had earned many himself during those years in Santanella.

Sebastian again. It appeared the bastard had given her more cause to run away than the threat to kill her horse.

Pity, anger, and frustration exploded through him. Dammit, he didn’t want to pity her. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to plunge in and out and rid himself of—

But he could not do it. In his anger and lust he might have ignored her exhaustion, but those whip marks had reminded him how defenseless he had felt under the lash. He would not inflict that sense of helplessness on anyone but his greatest enemy.

So what should he do? Sit here in torment while she slept peacefully through the night? He was not such a fool.

She stirred against him. “Safe …”

Goddammit!

She was being carried.

Kate opened her eyes to see Robert’s face above hers and felt a surge of relief. For a moment she had been afraid, but it was all right. Safety … home.

“No arguments,” he said grimly. “I’ve been sitting in that damn chair for hours, and I don’t intend to spend one more minute in it.”

Chair? The fog of sleep surrounded her, and she couldn’t grasp what he was talking about. She was only aware that everything was right. Her lids were too heavy to stay open, but it didn’t matter. All was still as it should be.

He was gone! She forced her eyes to open again. He was sitting on the bed next to her but no longer touching her. “Please … don’t go.”

“Close your eyes,” he said between his teeth as he took off his boots. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He was displeased about something, but he had promised to stay. It was all right to let go. As long as he was here, nothing bad could happen.

Home …

He was half turned away from her, and the noon sunlight streamed over his face, illuminating high cheekbones and the beautiful line of his jaw. He lay quite still, strength and power suppressed, but a living force nonetheless. His black hair was tousled, and yet Kate received no impression of careless disarray. Even now she could sense the control, the discipline that surrounded him. How terrible it must be to be this on guard even in sleep, she thought drowsily. She wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort him—

Dear Lord, he was naked!

So was she.

Shock jolted through her as she scrambled upright in the bed and clutched the blanket to her chin, staring at him.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to stir.” He turned to face her, his lids opening to reveal eyes fully awake and alert. His lips tightened with displeasure. “You’re looking at me as if you’d just found a snake in your bed.”

“I’m surprised … I did not know … Why are you here?”

“We’re man and wife. I belong in your bed. You’d
be wise to become accustomed to it.” He sat up and swung his legs to the floor. “Though you may not have an opportunity to get used to such a civilized piece of furniture. It’s possible we may not see another bed before we get to Craighdhu. You can travel days in the Highlands without running across an inn.” He went to the washstand and splashed water on his face. “How do you feel?”

She stared at him in shock. The back he had half turned to her was crisscrossed with white scars that tiger-striped his dark skin and gave him an air of savagery. She supposed she should have felt sympathy, but she was too aware of his physical presence to respond with anything but helpless fascination.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him: the tight buttocks, the bulging muscles of calf and thigh, the triangle of black hair on his golden-brown chest that tapered to a thin line at his waist. He looked completely and overpoweringly male.

He cast her an impatient glance over his shoulder. “Answer me.”

For a moment she couldn’t remember the question. “Oh, very well.”

“You said that after Landfield dragged you through the forest. I want the truth. Are you able to travel?”

“Of course.”

He reached for the toweling by the basin and dabbed at his face. “Then get up and get dressed.”

She could feel the heat in her cheeks. “I’m waiting until you leave. I’m not so shameless about my lack of clothing as you are.”

He smiled mockingly as he threw the toweling aside. “You do not find me pleasing in this state? It would be wise of you to become accustomed to that also.”

“I see no reason why I should,” she said haltingly.

“I didn’t either until last night. The situation has … changed.” He reached up to smooth his rumpled
hair, and she watched his abdomen flatten, the muscles of his upper arm ripple. “Why should I be modest? You displayed little of that quality last night.”

Her eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Didn’t I?”

“You don’t remember?”

She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “I remember Carolyn and then sitting in the tub.…”

“You also curled naked on my lap before the fire.” The mockery deepened. “You were quite shameless. Evidently you found the experience less memorable than I did.”

Her heart started to pound with fear. Shameless. He had called her shameless. Let it not be true, she thought fervently. Yet even as she woke, she had wanted to reach out and touch him, she remembered with panic. But she could not have—“Did I … mate with you?”

“Your eyes are big as saucers. What difference does it make? It’s a wife’s duty to give her husband pleasure.”

“Answer me! Did I let you—did we fornicate?”

He stood looking at her for a moment and then slowly shook his head. “I assure you that I’d have made sure you remembered if we had.” He watched her curiously as her breath expelled in a rush of relief. “What a violent response.”