Winning the Highlander's Heart (19 page)

With a ragged groan, he flicked his thumbs over her taut nipples, abruptly separated from her, kissed her cheek like a brother would, and stepped away.  Her heart felt wrenched in two.

Nearly married four times and not once had she ever felt like this toward any man.  She licked her lips, swollen and well-loved, but the rest of her ached for more.

Malcolm’s eyes were black as midnight, and a scowl marred his now hardened face.  “I beg forgiveness, milady,” he growled, his voice husky and harsh.

“There is nothing to—”

“Aye, there is,” Malcolm interrupted.  He appeared contrite, and she felt queasy with his abrupt rejection.  “Ye are a fine, sweet lass and are meant to have a husband who will…”  He blew out his breath.  “Pray forgive me for overstepping my bounds.  We break our fast, then shall be on our way.”  With a deep courtly bow, he left her staring after him, wondering how he could turn from a sizzling hot man of passion into an ice cold warrior.

She pursed her lips as she watched the brawny Scotsman rush away from her. 
Coward.
  Or was it that he still preferred an English lady?

Her heart sank and she clenched her teeth at the thought, then twirled around to return to her room and saw Dougald watching her.  Her heart leapt in her throat, while his lips curved generously upward.

“Milady.”  He bowed low.

How much had he witnessed? 
The blackguard
.

Shortly after eating, the courtiers were bristling with excitement when the earl and his knights rode forth with Lady Anice’s wagon and the party’s goods.  Then Lady Maud, Mai, several women of court, their maids, and men to watch over their purchases, headed into the main market square.

Anice’s stomach tightened while she ensured the hood of her robe covered her head sufficiently one last time.  When she met Malcolm and his brothers in the bailey, they all looked her over.

“Are you satisfied?” she asked, when all Angus and Dougald did was smile.

“Aye,” Malcolm said, his voice dark and his face devoid of emotions.  He’d barely spoken a word to her while they had supped, and she hated the distance he’d put between them.  She had made a terrible mistake in trusting him, in acting so common.  She wished she could take every action back, as cold as he acted toward her now.

“We shall enjoy the fair, while these young men watch our horses.”  Malcolm motioned to four squires.  “They’re well armed in the event we have trouble.  Your bow and quiver are hidden under yonder blanket behind your saddle.”

She nodded, her face feeling hot and her skin crawling with anxiety.  Had Dougald told Angus what he had seen Malcolm and she doing outside her guest chambers?  They must have had a good laugh betwixt them.  Stiffening her back, she vowed never to be led astray again.

They exited the castle grounds and strode toward the market square, while the young men led their horses from behind.

Delighted to see all the offerings, Anice soon forgot her distress over Malcolm’s cold treatment and hurried from one booth to the next.  Not only were wool products piled on tables for examination, but produce, chicknows, even gems were offered for sale.  But an emerald green silk called to her from a table beneath a tent.  She instantly gravitated toward it.

Malcolm blocked her path and whispered, “Anice, where are you headed?”

She paused, realizing at once that a monk would not have reason to inspect the silk cloth. She whipped around, ignoring him, and headed straight for one of the squires.  “Come and help me with the purchase of some silk.”

“Aye.”  He handed her horse’s reins to his companion, then walked with Anice to the silk booth.

She explained the quantity of fabric she required, slipped some money to him, then told him to give the cloth to her lady-in-waiting when he returned to the castle.  The young man did as she bid, then tucked the bound fabric under his arm.

Anice stared at the silks from a distance, then motioned to the squire again.  “Another.  The paler green one beneath that royal blue.  Do you see it?”

“Aye, do you wish it, too?”

She nodded.  “Same amount of fabric.”  Again, she handed him the coin.

After the squire did as he was told, he returned to her.  “Any other that you wish, my—”

“Nay ‘tis enough for now.”  She smiled, then turned and sauntered past a booth of wool.

Malcolm joined her and shook his head at her.

She motioned to the crowded streets.  “There are so many about, nay one would have noticed.”

“Save the merchant and a half dozen others who were loitering nearby.”

“’Tis my wedding gown.”

Malcolm stifled a laugh.

Exactly what did he think so amusing about the colors of silk she’d selected?

“Sorry, milady, it sounded funny coming from a monk.”

She ground her teeth, still peeved at him for not wanting the likes of her for a wife.  “Ah, I thought perhaps you did not like the colors—”

 “Stop!” the earl’s steward shouted, his face red as he dashed across the square.  “Stop that thief!”

The boy, wearing rags and dirty brown hair to match his dirty brown skin, ran straight into Anice when he scurried through the crowds.  She nearly fell, but quickly tripped the lad instead.  As soon as he sprawled out on the ground, one of the squires apprehended him, yanking him from the street while Malcolm grabbed Anice’s arm to steady her.

The nobleman tore his purse from the youth’s grasp.  To the squire he said, “Take him to the dungeon.  His Lord Earl can deal with the likes of him.”

Anice hurried to speak with Baron Crichton in private.  “Sir, you have your purse back.  If the lad travels with me to Brecken Castle, he will be nay more trouble to ye.  But if he wishes it not, he is your laird’s problem.”

“Milady, why would you want such a blackguard as the lad?  Would he not be more trouble than you already have?” the baron said, his voice hushed.

“A young boy in our service would make it look less likely that I am Lady Anice traveling with Highland warriors.”

The baron glared at the boy.  “If he gives you any trouble, I will have him locked up.”

“’Tis a fair bargain.  If he leaves with me, he will nay longer be a problem in your shire.”

She returned to Malcolm and offered her proposal.

“You cannot be serious.”

She folded her arms intent on having her way. 

“You
are
serious.” 

“They will not expect us to travel with a child.”

Malcolm frowned at her.  “Who will rob us blind while will sleep.”

“I will leave it up to ye, Malcolm.  Speak to him.  Think you he cannot be trusted, we will leave him here for the Laird Earl to deal with.”

He took a heavy breath, then walked over to speak with the lad.  “Brother John has acted on your behalf to have you released to us, if you will join us on our journey.  If not, you will be turned over to the Laird Earl who will have one of your hands cut off for the act of thievery.”

The boy stood on his tippy toes, cupped his mouth, and whispered to Malcolm.

Malcolm looked at Anice.  He faced the boy again, but this time spoke under his breath.  The lad looked at Anice, his bright blue eyes wide.  “Aye I will serve ye.”

“You will be Brother Angus’s charge.”

Malcolm joined Anice but before she questioned him as to what the boy had said, she asked, “What is his name?”

“Scoundrel.”

She tilted her head down.  “He has to have a name.”

“And you wish to know it?”

Why wouldn’t she wish to know the lad’s name?  Would seem odd to call him boy.  “Aye, Malcolm, I do.”

He shook his head and returned to the lad.  “Brother John wishes to know your name.”

The boy, who couldn’t have been any older than ten, straightened his back.  “Kemp.”

“Have you family?”

“Nay, they have all died.  I live on the streets now.  Nay one will hire me as they say I am too small to be of much use.  But I will show ye I am strong.”

“Aye.”  Malcolm nodded at Angus who came to stand by the boy. 

Angus glared at the lad.  “Nay doing anything wrong, Kemp.  You will be under my watchful eye.”

Malcolm walked back to Anice and the two continued to stroll through the market.

“What did he say to you in private?” Anice asked Malcolm.

“He said that the lady was nay more a monk than he was king.”

Anice nearly laughed, but quickly stifled the urge.  “’Tis good we are taking the lad with us.  If he had been locked in the dungeon with Conan, and the youngster spoke of what he ken, Conan would have told Fontenot when he is released.”

“If he steals one of our horses in the middle of the night, then nay, I will not think it was a good idea.  What will you do with him when you get him to Brecken,
if
you manage?”

“His name means warrior.  I shall make him a groom in my stables, and he can learn to fight like you when he is no’ tending my horses.”

“You are too kindhearted to take the scoundrel in.”

“Nay, he will suit our purpose.”

The smile on Malcolm’s face indicated he thought she was softhearted despite her words.  But the boy would have to work hard in her service, like everyone else did to earn his or her keep.  Yet, it was a chance at a better life than he had in the village with no way to earn a meal.

Malcolm’s face lit up when he spied a booth filled with knives, swords and shields, many used, a few new.

“You have nay reason to look over weapons,” Anice reminded him under her breath.  She couldn’t help but be amused that the weapons drew him in just like the fabrics had her.

“Aye.”  He motioned to one of the squires.  “Check on that dagger, yonder.  See if it has a good weight and ask the price.”

The squire soon returned.  “’Tis a fine weapon, milord.  But he is asking too much.”

“Offer him half the price.  Tell him you are on the way to Nottingham where an armorer makes the best weapons at half the price he’s asking.”

The squire spoke to the merchant who eyed Malcolm with suspicion.  He responded, then the squire returned to Malcolm.  “Milord, he wants to know why you wish a dagger.”

Malcolm stalked into the booth, then lifted the blade and examined it.  “You best not want the answer to your question.  Do you wish to sell for the aforementioned price or not?”

“I would not make a farthing on the sale.  So nay.”

“As you wish.”  Malcolm laid the dagger down, then stalked out of the booth.  He walked at a quickened pace toward a booth where roasted chicknows were being sold while Anice hurried to catch up.  “Time to eat, milady, then we must be on our way.”

“Could you not have bargained a wee bit higher, Malcolm?”

“Nay, he will come around.  You never want to appear too anxious.”

They paid for their fowl and shared with his brothers, the squires and the lad, Kemp.

Out of the corner of her eye, Anice noticed the weapon’s merchant watching them.  “He does appear to be growing more anxious.”