“I think Scottish thistles are pretty plants,” she said, meaning to compliment his Scottish flower and show she was satisfied with such restrained praise, even if he could have done better.
“The thing wi’ a thistle,” he said, “is that no matter how much you stand on that plant or try to dig it out, it just keeps coming back. When you’ve got thistles, you’ve got them for good. The only thing you can do is take a liking to the blighters. Otherwise, you’ll be miserable forever.”
Her eyes narrowed. Juliette wondered how to take that comment? She’d mull it over later.
As dusk approached, so did the insects. She was thankful she’d had the good sense to pick all that Bog Myrtle and stuff bunches of the bush into the folds and tucks of her tunic. But clearly the mosquitos knew nothing of the plants’ insect repelling qualities. Instead they buzzed and swarmed as if she was the sweetest meat they’d ever smelt. They left Tam alone, of course, and he remained completely untouched. She fished out the biggest sprig of Bog Myrtle she had and swatted the mosquitoes with it, shooing away as many as she could with her last burst of strength.
When it was dark, so dark she repeatedly tripped, stumbled forward, and fell into his back, Tam finally saw sense and called an end to their blind march onwards. He dumped his sacking bag on the ground. She stood still listening to the choir of insects near the steam, wondering how long it would take them to smell her and come join the rest of their blood-sucking kin. There was a slice of moon in the night sky, so she could see a few inches in front. She wondered about finding a log to sit on. Mayhap Tam would think that was an unnecessary luxury. He’d call it soft and have some Highlander reason why it would be best if they plonked their bottoms into prickles. Well, she was having none of it.
“Just stand there, and don’t get into trouble,” he barked. It was an insulting remark, but she decided not to take offence this time because she was too bone weary to move anyway. Maybe she could manage to sleep standing up—like a horse.
Juliette shut her eyes and listened to the thumping sound of Tam’s boots and the scratch of fallen wood being bundled together. A bird with a large wing span flapped above them. She looked up and thought she spied a tawny owl, Vienna’s favourite.
Tam returned with a bundle of kindling. “We’ll have a small fire. I’m only going to use clean burning wood. We can’t risk a heavy plume of smoke. Don’t want to give our location away.”
He opened his sack and pulled out a tangle of objects. It was too dark to see what he had there, but she recognised cloth. He shook it out and held it up for her.
“That’s Ness’s cloak, the heavy cloak she sleeps in.”
“Aye, you’ll need it now.”
“You stole it from Ness?”
“She can buy herself another one with some of her ill-gotten-gains.”
Juliette wrapped the heavy cloak around her body and stood rooted to the spot, not trusting herself to move a single muscle without collapsing. She heard him coax sparks from his flint. It wasn’t long till the kindling was lit, and the mosquitoes moved away from the heat and light.
“Are we just going to lie on the ground and sleep here? I don’t mind because I’m so tired. I could sleep anywhere.”
“Your cape will keep you warm, and I have my plaid.”
She watched him control the size of the flames, selecting only thinner branches and spacing them out, so as not to burn too many at once. If a curl of smoke was too thick, he poked the green branch, rolling it from the fire and coating it in dirt. Once he was satisfied with his fire, he withdrew something else from his sack. It was covered in leaves.
She detected the salty aroma of smoked fish. “My eels! I caught those. I was smoking them in the embers when I saw you waving from the scrub. How did you know I’d put eels in the coals? I can’t believe you dug into the embers and found my eels. How did you know to look?”
“I knew they’d be there. I watched you catch them.”
“You were watching me?”
“Aye.”
“What else did you see?” She tried to think if she’d done anything else he might have spied on? Hopefully he hadn’t watched her lift her skirts and squat. Her face flushed red.
“I watched them bury Angus.”
“Oh, yes.” A wave of shame swept through her. She’d been worried about him eying her thatch when instead he’d had far more troubling matters on his mind: the death and burial of his charge and friend. From now on, she would get her priorities straight. She would squat down right in front of him and not care.
Actually, she might need to rethink that decision. They were trapped in this harsh journey together, a life-threatening situation to be sure, but was there any need to paint herself in an undesirable light? Nay, there was not. Mother had many sayings, and she had an apt one for this moment too: “A man likes a bit of mystique, so best not flash your wares.”
Tam refilled the water skin he’d stolen from Ness. They sat together and silently ate the eel and drank their fill of spring water. The fish was rich and wonderful, quite the best she’d ever eaten. Tam had also stolen oats, so they mixed some with water and made oatcakes for the morn. He reasoned that there would be no time for cooking later because they’d be moving on at first light. Now, there was just the business of sleeping left to sort out.
Chapter 16
Tam knew it was time to get some sleep, but he had no idea how he was supposed to manage it. They’d both stretched out on the soft grasses, each wrapped in their own cloth, lying within a few yards of each other. There was a decent enough gap between their bodies, but Juliette kept tossing and rolling and closing the gap. If she weren’t careful, they’d end up curled together. And then sleep would be out of the question. He knew what was happening; she was drawn to his body heat but he was a man, after all. Didn’t she realise he wasn’t entirely trustworthy, not at night, and not with her lying a hands-grab away?
The moon was weak, but the wee fire gave him enough light to see. Her profile was something to behold. She was blessed with such bonnie cheeks, plump and rosy and brimming with health. Her wee nose was as cute as a bobtail on a bunny. And her bold, full mouth was almost his undoing. How he wanted to nip and bite those teasing lips. If he had kissed his wife in the way he dreamed of kissing Juliette, Helena would have drawn back and yelped in pain. But Juliette was different. Juliette was the sort of girl that bit back. He stared, drinking in his fill of her. Thinking her asleep, it shocked him to hear her speak.
“What was your wife like, Tam?”
“Oh, she was verra delicate.”
“Pretty you mean?”
“Frail. She sickened easily. The cold highland weather was nay good for her. She was a Lowlander by birth, you see.”
“You must miss her terribly?”
“I did. Aye.”
“How did she die?”
Tam was pleased that Juliette could not see the pained expression on his face. “She was travelling home in a covered coach after visiting her folks. Bandits attacked the coach, and in the melee that followed, my wife was killed.” He felt the skin on his arms tighten.
“Did the bandits get away?”
He shook his head. “My king caught them trying to flog her jewellery, and he had them killed. He invited me to watch, thinking I’d enjoy the spectacle, but I’ve no stomach for boiling.”
“The king boiled the bandits?”
“Aye. In hot oil, I’m told. I didna watch, I’ve no taste for that sort of thing. Watching wouldn’t bring Helena back.”
Juliette nodded. “And since then, King Alexander has dangled an array of women before you, hoping you’ll take another as wife?”
“That be the strength of it.”
“Why haven’t you chosen a lassie? Were none to your liking?”
Tam held on to his s
low smile. “The king always chose a certain type of woman, a woman like Helena. Until now.”
Juliette’s eyes flashed at him. “Until me, you mean. I’m not delicate? Nay, I suppose I’m not.” She sighed and released a heavy breath. “I’ve always had long feet, and no one’s ever told me I’m like a fairy. I always wanted to be delicate, but I kept growing, one inch after another. And while the other girls would fall away with the sniffles or with the sweating sickness, nothing knocked me down or stopped me growing taller.”
He studied her forlorn face and couldn’t hide his smile.
“Father calls my older sister, Sybilla, a wolf, and me, a wolverine. According to Father, I might look fluffy, like something you want to pat, but looks deceive. He claims I have no fear, and that I’m ferocious. Wolverines can kill polar bears. Did you know that? A wolverine bites the bear’s neck and holds on till the huge bear suffocates. A wolverine can bring down anything. Father says that there is no escaping me.”
Tam had to check his laughter. The wee girl was being deadly serious, and it wouldn’t do to release a belly laugh. “As it happens, I’ve a liking for fearless and ferocious things. And if those fearful things happen to be fluffy and pretty as a picture, then all the better.”
She looked straight at him with smouldering eyes. How did one ignore eyes as pretty as yuletide pictures? He leant forward and touched the side of her face, warming her cheek with his hand. She didn’t pull away. Then he leant in and brought his mouth to meet hers. Her lips were just as he imagined they’d be: soft and warm and tantalising, like sinking into a bed of mink-skin. He should stop. Instead, he kissed her again, and she pressed into him as if imploring him to make the kiss memorable. He longed to kiss her with his tongue, but knew he must not. Yet still he could not leave her lips.
She wriggled toward him, so that she was lying in his arms, and their legs were tangled. His nose filled with her woman smell, and he clutched her tighter. His chest, hips, and legs, and other places best to not think about, pressed into her. That day, he’d killed an Irishman and then walked for a long while. He should feel bone weary. But instead, her nearness was giving him strength. When they finally arrived back at Dingwall, how was he going to let her go? He could fret about that later. Right now, he had more pressing concerns, such as how to stop himself from slipping his hands under Juliette’s tunic. Nay, he must not. The girl was still a maiden.
Eventually, he managed to drag his mouth away, and he felt like a dying man giving away his last breath. He mustn’t kiss her again, but nothing would stop him admiring her beauty.
“Have you had enough of me already?” she teased as she leaned in trying to secure another kiss.
“Lass, you wish to wed your English gentleman, and if we do not stop now, we will not stop at all.”
Juliette drew back a little, as if confused. “Oh, Vincent, you mean.”
“Yes, Lord Vincent Ashworth. I remember his full title, you see. I’m not likely to forget it.”
She smiled with such warmth, Tam felt it touch his heart.
She was quiet and pensive for a moment, and then added, “We’re not exactly handfasted. Vincent and I have known each other for a very long while—since childhood. And you know what children are like. They promise a great many things and keep few, if any, of the promises they make.”
“Hmmn. Your story is evolving.”
She poked his chest. “I didn’t make him up, if that is what you are suggesting. However, Vienna did make up Lord Beau.”
“Lord who? Who the blazes is Lord Beau? He sounds like a character from a romantic story.”
“Lord Beau is Vienna’s man. Only, he’s not real. Vienna made him up.”
Tam shook his head. Good heavens.
“Vincent is real though. He does exist, but he’s not all that romantic. He’s one of those men who prefer the company of other men. Vincent is close to Lord Warren, you see. Very close. Vincent tells everyone that he and I intend to marry, but in the meantime, he plans to spend his days doing just as he pleases with Warren. Those two have so very much in common, they cannot bear to be apart.”
Tam felt a tingle up the back of his spine. He understood all too well, but he wasn’t sure that Juliette did. But no matter. She was not close to her English gentleman. Far from it. This news would not help him sleep tonight. She snuggled close and smelt of meadows and of long seductive lazy days under the pelts. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He must not take advantage of the girl. It wouldn’t be right. Anyway, he’d promised God that he’d take no other wife. He deserved none other. Promises to God were not things that could easily be broken.
The night proved fitful and peppered with little sleep. For him, anyway. However, Juliette did not appear plagued with desire. Her breathing did not falter, nor did her eyes open, not even once. She slept a great many hours, clearly without the need for bed sport. Whereas he could think of little else other than his need to plant his seed.
Juliette was a restless sleeper though. He’d never come across anyone who moved so much during slumber. The girl was like a fictional sea monster, winding her limbs over him. It was fortunate for her that she did not know how she moved, or she’d be mortified come morn. All night long, her arms splayed over his chest, her legs curled around his middle, and her feet even wound their way around his flesh sword. It was indeed a miracle he’d not flung her onto her back and planted himself deep betwixt her thighs. And when the sun was full up, she slid to a sitting position in the most-demure fashion, as if she’d kept a respectable three feet from his body all night long. Ha!
~ ~ ~
Juliette stretched, yawned, and then looked over at him. “Tam, do you not see how high in the sky the sun is already?”
“Aye, I’m nay blind just yet.”
“Well I can tell you from experience that it’s way past cock’s crow. You wanted us up and gone early, remember? But I fear we’re tardy and running late.” She stretched again, a long, deep cat-like movement.
He watched her, as if mesmerised. Then he mumbled something and climbed to his feet. Strange, but he was looking far from refreshed, whereas she felt like a bear that had woken and discovered that winter was over.
“A quick oatcake and a mouthful of water, and we’ll be on our way,” he responded.
“Is your head hurting? I planned to clean your wound this morn.”
“Not right now.”
“I’ll be gentle, and you have no need to worry. You’ll barely feel my fingers.”
“I know your touch, Juliette, so I think I’ll pass, thank you. There’s only so much a man can take.”
“What does that mean?”
He grabbed his plaid and buckled his belt. “No time to explain.”
They broke their fast with the oatcakes. Soon enough, she was trudging after him, through the great pine forest.
“Tis beautiful here, Tam,” she cried at his retreating back. “I love the way the sun dapples through the trees. The light dances on the lush bracken floor too. And over there is a sprinkling of blue bells. Mother Nature is indeed clever.”
“Lass, you should see the forest come leaf-fall. All the colours are a feast for the eyes.”
“These are pine trees, are they not?”
“Aye, great Scottish pines.”
She called out again, hoping to slow him some more. “People say that the lochs and mountains in the Highlands are a sight to behold, but I’ve taken a liking to this pine forest. Tis warmer here than on the coast. The wind is not nearly as bitter. I think I am beginning to enjoy this adventure, Tam.”
She could hear his smile, even if she couldn’t see it. “That’s a relief. I’d hate to think you’d been shipwrecked and nearly sold, and hadn’t enjoyed the experience.”
She knew he was being sarcastic, but she didn’t care.
“Now I’m enjoying myself because I have a big thug of a Highlander to protect me from wolves and hunger and even from Irish outlaws. So, you see, I have nothing to fret over.”
Tam turned, rolled his eyes, and then faced forward and kept up his relentless pace. He acted as if her words meant naught to him, that they were the ravings of a young Sassenach lass, but she knew, deep down, he was pleased. She’d caught his secret smile when he glanced at her.
“You heard the wolf calls last night then?” he asked. “I thought you’d sleep right through them.
“I heard one just before I dropped off, but it sounded far away. And anyway, if it were winter time, I’d be more concerned. But tis spring now, and there are so many more delicious things for a wolf to eat, other than me.”
“Aye, but always keep your guard about you. Don’t forget that forests are dangerous places. If you lose me, then start a fire and let me find you.” He backtracked and handed her a flint to store in her purse. “This is a spare. Look after it.”
They trudged on for another few hours. Along the way, Tam pointed out the birds of the forest: the black grouse, the red crossbill, and the osprey. They’d wandered for a while longer until they came to a point where the pines grew so thick, the noonday sky looked more like eventide. Suddenly, Tam stopped dead. He turned and motioned for her to hide herself behind a thick bark. As she dashed for cover, he held his finger to his lips signalling for her to stay quiet. Seemingly satisfied that she was now out of sight, he crept forward, his hand on his hunting knife.
Chapter 17
Juliette waited behind the stocky trunk of the tree until she got the signal from Tam. At last he whispered her name. As quietly as she could manage, she slunk toward him, eager to see what lay ahead. She did not expect to find two lone women. The women did not realise they were being watched. They continued their foraging, digging into the soft mud of the forest floor. Now and then they’d stand, stretch their backs, and then put their hard-won roots into a straw basket attached to their backs.
Thistles and Thieves: Highlander Romance (Troublesome Sister Series Book 2) Page 13
