The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy)

by Ruth A. Casie

  Annoyed, to say nothing of tired and cold, he had no plans to remain outside in this weather, nor did he intend to sleep downstairs for his coin to be lifted.

  Spying the staircase to the yard, Jamie went down the ice rimmed steps and around the building to the oak tree. A sizeable branch was close to their bedroom window. He gave the tree a shake and was rewarded with a shower of water-soaked slush. Satisfied it would hold his weight he scaled the oak, opened the window and climbed inside. He tripped on a rag on the floor nearly turning over the small side table.

  He froze.

  A moonbeam gave off enough light for him to see her wrapped in her bedroll. Her soft, even breath told him she slept soundly. He let out a deep sigh, took off his boots and coat, and settled on the bed.

  He glanced over and adjusted her blanket. Satisfied, he wrapped himself in his bedroll, showed her his back, and went to sleep.

  Hours later, Laura pulled the blanket around her and shuddered. Ripples of shivers ran up her back until her teeth chattered. The rag must’ve fallen out of the window, but she didn’t want to venture from under the covers and lose what little heat she had. She rearranged the blanket and again searched for a comfortable warmer spot.

  “Shush, you sound like a buck plodding in the forest.” Jamie moved next to her and touched her hand that held the blanket to her throat.

  “Faith, woman. You’re as cold as ice.” He cuddled her against his chest, then pulled his blanket around them both.

  “How did you—”

  “Did you really think you could keep me out? Now hush.” She stiffened with apprehension. She sighed as her body thawed, and moved closer, greedy for more of his heat.

  Jamie’s rhythmic breathing soon turned to soft snores.

  A moan escaped her lips as she fell asleep.

  The woman would drive him to drink. He continued to “snore.”

  What had he gotten himself into? His chest burst with pride and a bit of fear when she faced off against Bryce’s men. Smart. She read that situation well. Her swift actions surprised him and put Bryce’s men on the defensive from the start. She was as fearless as a lioness protecting her cubs. Even downstairs she held her own. He took a deep breath. Lavender and spice. She’d make a fine warrior’s wife.

  Good thing he planned to be a farmer.

  Chapter Four

  “Time is with us. We should be at the castle by nightfall.” Jamie rode in the front of the column with Sean. Traveling since first light, it was well past noon and they had only stopped for necessities and to rest their mounts.

  “Did Lady Darla give you any spells or powders to help rid us of the ghost?” Sean’s tone dripped with sarcasm. Jamie held back a smirk. Of all his men, Sean was the least to believe in spells and magic. They both believed hard work and action affected an outcome, not luck or unearthly beings. He couldn’t say that about some of the others.

  “No, she sent along Lady Laura to help us figure out what needs to be done to... appease him.”

  Sean gave him a sideways glance. “I did wonder why we were saddled with the lady.”

  “Lady Laura will be with us for a week doing whatever it is she does. When it doesn’t work, we’ll thank her for her kind efforts and take her back to Glen Kirk all sweet and nice.” He neglected to mention his biggest reason for removing Laura from Glen Kirk.

  She needed to be protected from Bryce. The issue had been in the back of his mind since they left Glen Kirk. Keeping her at Caerlaverock was a temporary solution. She’d have to go home eventually.

  These were difficult times. He watched how English sympathizers suffered at the hands of politically motivated thieves. Keeping an Englishwoman in Scotland was dangerous for her as well as The Maxwell. He hoped his uncle could find another way to protect her.

  “Lady Darla is sure Evan didn’t kill Angel.”

  “Lady Darla is perceptive,” Sean said with admiration. “I don’t think Evan killed Angel either. Where were the wounds? Do we know the condition of the room when they found the bodies? Was there a fight? Who overheard the argument?” Unsurprising, Sean’s endless questions were similar to Laura’s.

  “Yes, exactly. Everyone happily accepted the explanation and didn’t search any further. Not even me. In a small way, we should thank Evan.” How could he be so accepting of the explanation? He knew Evan and Angel well enough to question the conclusion he was given.

  “Evan? What for?”

  “Once his ghost appeared, Lord Herbert locked the pantry. The supplies are either in the corridor or in the storage room underneath the castle, a bit of an inconvenience, but it prevents the room from being disturbed. It will be difficult to find answers, but not impossible. I suppose the staff is our best source, and perhaps, the two families,” Jamie said.

  “Both families had been close. Intertwined would be a better word. Trying to figure out who belongs to which family is a challenge. They did everything together. Now, each blames the other and everyone else takes sides.” Sean shook his head. “You even have to be cautious at the tavern. A misspoken word starts an argument and sends tempers flying.”

  “If Lady Darla is right, and Evan and Angel were murdered by someone else, it would resolve the family problems, although, it leaves us with a bigger one. Who murdered them? Perhaps that’s what our ghost wants.” Jamie let out a small chuckle and cast a glance at his captain. “Our ghost wants justice.”

  “How will Lady Laura help?” Sean asked.

  Jamie ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure. I have no idea how she does what she does, and, truth be told, I don’t want to know as long as she stays out of our way. Our job is done once we present her to Herbert.”

  Jamie glanced over his shoulder at Laura. She squirmed in her seat. Yet she made no complaints and maintained the pace. His men were used to being driven hard. He thought her more delicate, but he was wrong. She was a warrior.

  “Tell the others we’ll be making a short stop at the Annan River.”

  “I’ll speak to the men and see if they have any information about the murders,” Sean said and Jamie nodded. The captain wheeled away and fell in with the men.

  Jamie slowed to let Laura draw up next to him.

  “We’ll stop up ahead at the river for a brief rest.”

  “Not on my account. I can go on.” She lifted her chin and stared ahead.

  “Not on your account at all. I’m concerned about the horses. I pushed them hard. They need to rest before we go the last ten miles. I want to reach Caerlaverock before the gate closes for the night. I’ll not sleep on the ground when I can have a cozy, warm bed.”

  “Of course. The horses,” she said. Her knuckles were white from strangling the reins.

  She argued at every turn. At times he wanted to throttle her. Except last night. The memory of her warm body cuddled next to him, the fragrance of lavender and spice, the sound of her soft breath sent spasms through his body. She still slept when he woke before dawn. He didn’t move her head off his chest or her arm from across his torso. It was as if they were an old couple who slept together every night. When he did move, she cuddled closer, but only for warmth. Last night she was warm and in his arms as he had dreamt a hundred times. He shook his shoulders. But she was Richard’s sister and not for him.

  He came out of his reverie and straightened in his saddle as if dowsed by a bucket of cold water. His building manhood quickly collapsed along with his pride.

  “I’ve been thinking about Evan’s ghost. If we—”

  “Laura, when we arrive at Caerlaverock, I’ll bring you to Herbert. You can tell him what you need for your spells and incantations. I suspect, since you mentioned the ritual must be completed within the next five days, that I’ll be returning you to Glen Kirk whether you put Evan to rest or not.” Her blood boiled at his dismissive attitude. Spells and incantations. Was that what he thought? That she didn’t have a brain in her head?

  Arguing with the stubborn Scotsman never got her anywhere. Besides, sh
e didn’t need his help. Look at him sitting on his warhorse, so sure that his way was the only one.

  All along he’d treated her as a child. No, that was wrong. He treated her with indifference. He pacified her then sent her on her way. He didn’t take what she said into account. He didn’t see how she’d always come to his support. Even on that day when he unleashed his fury on Bryce.

  Is he all right?” she asked Gareth as he marched out of the barracks.

  “Stubborn and more stubborn. Won’t even let me help him. Here, see if you can.” He handed her clean linens. “Except for a few cuts and bruises, he’ll be fine. I’ve never witnessed Jamie hit someone. I didn’t know he knew how.”

  Gareth stalked away shaking his head.

  Laura entered the barracks. Jamie sat at the table, staring at nothing. His bedroll near his feet, tied and ready to go. His face was a mess: a large cut on his lip, his cheeks rough and bloody, his nose caked with blood.

  She dipped one of Gareth’s linens into a basin of fresh warm water and dabbed it on his forehead. He didn’t swat her hand away. She took that as a good sign. At the end of the day, she took care of his bumps and bruises. He relived every moment with her. Today was different. Silent support was all she could offer him now.

  Laura progressed and cleaned the rest of his wounds. Finally, she put the stained linens in the basin and sat across from him. She didn’t say a word.

  “Thank you,” he finally said. He picked up his bedroll and started to leave. A wave of panic rolled through her. She grabbed his arm.

  “Where are you going?” She was afraid if he left she’d never see him again.

  “I need to go.” He sounded cold and distant. Her heart raced until she feared it would burst. She held him tighter.

  “What do you mean you need to go? You’re family. If anyone is to leave, it should be Bryce.”

  He gently removed her hand from his arm and turned toward the door.

  “Why are you doing this? Because a foolish boy who is half the man you are called you out?”

  “No,” he said with a hurt look in his eyes.

  Gareth stepped into the room.

  “Not at all. I’m leaving because I wanted to kill him. If he hadn’t fallen, I would have kept at it. I was a berserker. Not in control. If I stay here, near Bryce, I don’t know that it won’t happen again.”

  “You’ve made a powerful enemy,” Gareth said. “It doesn’t matter who was right or that he taunted you. You bested him in front of Reeve and the others, but you didn’t kill him, although sometimes his smug attitude makes me want to wring his neck.”

  “But Bryce started the fight. It was clear to everyone that Jamie didn’t want to fight,” she said.

  Gareth let out something that sounded like a laugh. “Once the fight started without any resistance, Bryce thought he would win, establish his supremacy over Jamie, like a dog fighting for his place in the pack.” The grimace on Gareth’s face left no doubt what he thought of Bryce.

  “Laura, you don’t understand. Bryce is English and I’m—”

  “My Scottish cousin. Emphasis on Scottish, like Richard, Lisbeth, and me.” She jabbed her finger at his chest as she said each name. “And we’re proud of it. We’re proud of you. If he doesn’t like it, then the—”

  Gareth coughed. She glanced at her father’s captain. Heat rushed up her neck and reddened her cheeks.

  “If he wants to fight,” she said and took Jamie’s sword, “I’ll give him one and make sure he knows he’s gone too far.”

  A twinkle returned to Jamie’s eyes. “You made your point, lass.” Jamie took his sword, and stared at her face as if he was preserving the image in his mind. “I’m leaving, but I’ll never forget your fierce support, nor will I ever be far away from you.”

  The sound of rushing water brought Laura back to the moment. Jamie led the group through the high marsh grass that bordered the river and onto the muddy sandy shore of the Annan River.

  “We’ll rest when we’re out of the marsh on the other side.” He turned to Laura on her palfrey. “You’ll ride across with me.”

  Laura gave him a cold stare. “I assure you, I can handle my horse crossing a river.”

  “I’m sure you can. However, it’s all about size,” he smirked.

  She tilted her head and sucked in a quick breath at the double meaning of his words.

  “My horse,” he said in a husky voice. “Where is your mind, m’lady? He stands several hands higher than yours.” He straightened in his saddle. A flash of heat ran up her neck. She wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. She was sure he enjoyed her discomfort.

  “There won’t be any time to stop and dry your skirts. Unless you want to spend the next two hours wet to your waist. You ride with me.”

  A command.

  The idea of sitting in a wet skirt didn’t appeal to her, but only a little less than riding with Jamie.

  He reached over and lifted her off her horse as if she weighed nothing, tucked her across his lap, and pulled her close against his chest. She didn’t argue. She couldn’t if she wanted to. The air had gone out of her lungs and taking a breath to replace it was out of the question. He held her captive, and her senses came to life. Her heart jolted. Surely he heard it. She tried to ease away from him, control the dizzying current that raced through her, but he would have none of that. He drew her back firmly but carefully, as if she was his.

  “Hold tight.”

  His command cleared her head.

  “Or we’ll both be taking an unexpected bath,” he whispered in her ear. Laura wasn’t sure if it was his low voice or the picture his words painted in her head that made her heart turn over. It took every ounce of control not to quiver.

  His chest rumbled with a chuckle. Heat ran up her neck to her cheeks. She wanted to swat him.

  Jamie positioned them by the water’s edge. He waited for his men to cross the river and make their way down stream. When they were out of sight, he walked his destrier into the water.

  “Gather up your skirts, lass. I’ll do my best not to peek.” His voice was low and mellow. He took a deep breath and straightened his back, putting a little distance between them.

  “The men are away and will not notice your ankles and I’d rather you stay dry. The recent rains have swelled the river and the water is higher than I expected.”

  One minute he was rude and commanding. and the next, kind and thoughtful. Rather than make an issue of the contradiction, she decided to enjoy his kind, thoughtful side.

  Laura gathered her skirts, letting her ankles shamelessly dangle.

  “The Annan isn’t usually this high. You do know how to swim?” Jamie asked. He took his time and walked his horse into the river and let the animal find his footing. They had gone only a quarter of the way across. “You never know about the river sprites. They may take offense at your humorless expression.”

  She swung her head around and stared into his eyes. The devilish look made her burst into laughter. “Have I been that difficult? No,” she said and placed her hand on his chest. “Don’t answer that.”

  She stared over his shoulder and stiffened.

  “What is it?” Jamie followed her stare up river. Riders galloped toward them. They weren’t his men.

  “We’re targets in this swift water.” He looked behind him, then to the other side. They couldn’t go any faster until his horse found the slope of the river bank.

  “It would be faster to return to the near bank, but we’d be separated from my men and any help they could provide. There’s nothing for it. We must cross and reach Sean and the others. I should never have compromised your safety for propriety. Hold tight. If you fall, try to stay in the middle of the river. Let the current take you downstream—”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you. Get us across.”

  There was a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes. “Aye, m’lady. As you wish.” Jamie clicked his tongue. Getting across the stream was all that counted.

&
nbsp; The sound of horses’ hooves grew louder.

  “Wrap your arms around my waist and try not to lose your seat.”

  Jamie’s battle horse’s ears perked. The animal strained and blew hard. Jamie held him back.

  “Easy boy, a little farther. As soon as we’re out of the water.” He coaxed the horse in quiet tones. His horse lumbered out of the river, its head bobbing up and down, straining to take the lead. Jamie loosened his grip on the reins.

  “Away.” His horse bolted forward. They raced along the muddy river bank, the raiders gaining ground.

  “You need to let me down,” she yelled at him in the wind. “You can go faster without me.”

  “Keep down,” he said between clenched teeth and pulled his sword. They raced on, the land a blur as they flew by.

  The spray of water from his horse’s pounding hooves turned into clouds of dust as they came out of the marshland and onto a dry meadow.

  How much longer could his horse keep up this pace? It was late afternoon and they had been traveling since dawn.

  They reached the area where the river dog-legged to the right and the forest was closest to the water. In the distance, the base of the trees was shrouded in a blanket of unspun white wool that drifted along the forest floor in fleecy clouds as if it was a solid substance. The evening mist would be a good place to lose the thieves.

  Jamie veered toward the woods as if he heard her thoughts and let loose his battle cry. In the distance, an echoing cry reached her ears. Relief rushed through her, but they were still in danger. Jamie urged his horse on. The animal gave no sign of slowing down.

  Branches flashed by as they raced on, jumping over fallen logs and splashing across shallow pools. Jamie held her tightly against his chest. Out of the mist, his men charged forward. They let lose their roars and headed for the reivers close behind.