Fiddling with a crisp dry leaf she picked up off the ground, Jacqueline watched Ewan walk over to a group of pine trees. Taking out a dagger from its sheath, he began cutting branches of soft needles. Piling them into his arms, he headed back towards her. Ewan placed the pile down onto the ground next to the fire.
“Ye can sleep here tonight. The needles are soft enough if ye lay the plaid over top of ‘em. It will have to do. Tomorrow when we reach Carrick, ye will have a real bed to sleep in.”
“Thank you. May I ask about you? I find it only fair as you know so much about me, but I know nothing of you.”
“What would ye like to ken?” he asked as he picked up her gown and hung it onto a branch before sitting down.
“Where are you from?”
“The Highlands. Far away from here.”
“Are you a powerful laird of some great clan?”
Ewan laughed, “Nay, my lady. I am second in command of my cousin’s army at Dunakin Castle. I am no more than a mere warrior.”
Hesitantly, she asked, “And, what of your wife? You must miss her dearly.”
“My lady, I dinna have me a wife. Marriage is a means of entrapment. And as I am no’ a laird nor need an heir, I will no’ be getting married. I am a warrior no’ a husband.”
Jacqueline felt bad for him, that he felt unable to open his heart to the idea of love or marriage. But still, the ribbon he carried left her with many questions.
“If you do not have a wife or betrothed, why do you carry with you a lady’s favor?”
Ewan’s face went blank when she asked her question. She could see by his woeful look that his mind had wandered to some unpleasant memory. Jacqueline felt shame for asking.
“I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you upset.”
“Nay, ye dinna need to be sorry,” he said as he looked down at the ribbon tied to his chain. Stroking the worn pale blue ribbon along his fingers, he thought about that dreadful day. “It belonged to Alexa, my sister. She used to wear this ribbon in her hair every day. I had given it to her as a gift. She died when she was only 7 summers. She was a verra spirited young lass, until the fever set in and took her from us. My mother was ne’er the same. I keep it wit me as a reminder. Alexa taught me how life is worth livin’ and worth dyin’.”
Jacqueline gave Ewan a comforting smile.
“I should take a look at yer ankle. I will need to wrap it to ease some of the pain,” he said as he ripped off strips of his tunic to use it as a bandage for Jacqueline’s ankle. “This may hurt. I will need to wrap it tight,” he warned.
As Ewan began wrapping, the pressure caused Jacqueline to wince from the pain. Instinctively, she pressed her hand onto Ewan’s forearm. Ewan looked into her eyes to gauge her pain, but it wasn’t just pain that he saw. Her eyes were dilated and her breaths became deep and labored.
Lifting his hand, he stroked along her soft rosy cheek. Jacqueline closed her eyes at his warm touch. Leaning forward, Ewan pressed his lips to hers. Ewan felt Jacqueline’s hand slide over the back of his neck and thread her fingers into his hair to deepen the kiss. Her subtle action fueled Ewan’s hunger. Climbing on top of her, he pressed his body down upon hers and swept his tongue along hers.
Losing all concentration, Jacqueline allowed his hands to freely move across her small breasts. Letting go of all thought, she felt consumed by the passion Ewan awoken inside of her.
Slowly lifting himself up by his arms, Ewan looked down at the beauty that lay underneath him. He could see the desire in her eyes. He leaned down and nipped at her bottom lip before crashing his lips down upon hers.
Pulling away to take a breath, Jacqueline whispered, “Ewan.”
Ewan immediately rolled to his side and sat up, before he was no longer in control of his actions. Turning away from her, he calmly said, “Good Night” and went to lie down on the other side of the fire.
Unsure of what had come over her, Jacqueline laid there speechless, breathless. She had not anticipated for him to kiss her. She also did not anticipate that she would have enjoyed it, as she had.
Chapter 8
The warmer weather and open sky showed promise for a good day of riding. The village of Werth was still several hours ride away. Too embarrassed by his actions from the night before, he wanted to avoid the conversation all together. Ewan thought it was a good time to find out more about his traveling companion and could redirect any misdirection he may have led her.
Sitting in front of him, he could feel the way her slender hips curved up to her thin waist as he relaxed his arms around her. Her long flowing hair tickled his nose as loose strands blew in the wind. Ewan knew that if he didn’t make conversation soon, it would be all too easy for his desire to take over. English or not, she was still a lass and even for an English lass, Ewan found something about her irresistible. Uncertain if it was his simple curiosity or his protectiveness towards her that drew him to her.
“What of yer family? Ye have no’ spoken of them other than yer cousin and brother,” he asked to break the silence.
“My parents died when I was young. I only have a few memories of them. My father was sent to the northern isles of Ireland to meet with the Normans for a declaration of peace with their Irish king. My mother had joined him. On their way home, they were killed at sea. Murdered by a most vicious man, a Highlander.”
Ewan could hear the sadness in her voice. Being a Highlander himself he knew all too well many clans were not to be trusted.
“I am sorry that ye lost ‘em so young.”
“My uncle Guillaume raised my brother and I, and we have lived at Carlisle ever since. He is my eldest relative so all of my parents’ possessions became his. He was a widow with only one son, so when we came to live with him, he treated us like his own. He lives in London now on his deathbed with a lung ailment. I regret that I did not get a chance to give him a proper goodbye when he left, but his illness had made him delirious that he would have most likely not have remembered our visit.”
“Are ye close wit yer brother?”
“No. My brother has joined forces with the English army. He is the executioner at Carlisle. Once King Edward gave my cousin Richard the power to hold trials in his name, several Scotsmen have died at my brother’s hands. It wasn’t always that way. My brother was a good man, and Carlisle was once a peaceful place. Now there is just greed and war.”
“War is the means of power and influence, my lady, but unavoidable. Ye talk of war as if it is a wicked thing. Aye, men die, but heroes are born from the ashes of those who falter. We fight fer freedom against tyranny and prejudices. It is honor that makes a mon whole. It lives deep within yer soul and no one can take that away from ye.”
Jacqueline felt awe-struck by his words. Never had war been described so passionately. Ewan’s morality greatly heightened Jacqueline’s admiration for him. As a warrior, she assumed he must have seen many battles and lived through the struggles and trials of what it really meant to live and die. Looking into his serene emerald eyes, she saw how much he bared his soul, yet struggled to keep so much hidden.
Jacqueline blushed as she saw the soft smile on his face and turned to rest her back against Ewan’s chest. Inwardly, she felt calm as Ewan wrapped his arm tightly around her waist as they continued to ride. Even a strong and short-tempered warrior like Ewan had a softer side to him, Jacqueline believed. Each moment she spent with him, she could tell that the wall that he erected between them was beginning to slowly come down. She smiled at the thought of what her brother would think; two people who were meant to be sworn enemies becoming friends. Even though she still knew nothing of his past, who he is was all that mattered to her.
Gazing off into the distance, Jacqueline unintentionally squeezed onto Ewan’s forearm when she noticed the smoke rising in the sky. Feeling her become tense, Ewan sensed her worry.
“Dinna worry, lass. That is the wee village up ahead. There is an inn that should provide us a hearty meal and a warm bed to sleep.”
/> “What if the English soldiers thought to stay at the inn as well? They will recognize me.”
“That is why I am goin’ to check it out first. I need ye to stay here wit the horse. I will come back fer ye.”
“You are going to leave me here, alone?”
“Aye, it is safer.”
“I’m going with you.
“Nay, ye are staying here.”
“I do not want to be left alone again. I am going with you.”
Ewan sighed. “Ye stubborn English. Are ye always this much trouble?”
Jacqueline shrugged her shoulders.
“Fine. Ye can come, but stay close and dinna say a word,” he warned.
Ewan and Jacqueline rode to the backside of the village where there were fewer people to notice their arrival. Immediately, Jacqueline recognized some of the English guards as they strolled through the village, taking inventory of everything that was going on around them. Jacqueline knew that they were not there just to occupy the village and collect taxes. They were looking for her.
“We must make haste,” she whispered to Ewan.
“Do ye recognize ‘em?” Ewan nodded to the soldiers.
“Yes, they are Lord Wessex’s men.”
Jacqueline grabbed Ewan’s plaid from the saddle bag and tossed it over her head and buried her face within Ewan’s chest. Ewan looked down at the frightened lass. He continued onto the stables and directed one of the stable lads to tie up his horse.
Holding Jacqueline close to his side to help her walk, he whispered, “Stay close and dinna say a word.”
Ewan and Jacqueline swiftly walked over to the inn and opened the door. Inside the small room, they spotted an auld woman standing at the counter. Her hair was shaggy and peppered grey. Her plump sagging breasts made the woman appear to be hunched over from the weight of them. The woman looked Jacqueline up and down with suspicion.
“Good day to ye. My name is Effie McGinnis. What can I do for ye?” the woman asked.
“My wife and I are seeking a room fer tonight and a hot bath. We have coin to pay.”
“Aye, we have one room available. As ye can see we have uninvited guests,” she said under her breath. “So, married ye say? Must have been verra recent. Yer bonny bride looks quite nervous.”
“Aye, we were just married two nights ago and have thus traveled far. She has injured her ankle and can nay travel much longer wit out a good night’s rest.”
“Oh, I remember my wedding night wit me Gawain. Scared like a deer I was, of course so was he when me father came upon us. Well dinna ye worry, lassie. Those were good memories. Just as yer husband here will make ye good memories I’m sure. Ye can have the room down at the end. I will have one of me lads bring ye a meal and have a tub sent up and I have some herbs that can help ye fer the pain if ye need it.”
“Thank ye, my lady,” Ewan said and grabbed Jacqueline’s hand and together they walked out the door.
“Why did you tell her I was your wife?”
“It would have been suspicious to have a lass traveling alone wit out a husband.”
Ewan opened the door to the guest room. The room was small but was better than sleeping outside. He watched as Jacqueline surveyed the accommodations.
“There is only one bed,” Jacqueline observed.
“Aye.”
“But where will you be sleeping?”
“In here.”
Jacqueline shook her head at the absurdity of the idea. Her teachings taught her that unless you were a whore, only a husband and a wife would ever dare share a room. “You cannot possibly mean to sleep in here with me?”
“Lass, the lady of the inn thinks we to be married. I can also nay protect ye if I am no’ close by to watch o’er ye. Besides the past two nights I have slept next to ye outside and ye dinna complain then. Dinna worry. Ye can have the bed. I will sleep here on the floor. I can assure ye that I have nay any intentions. When the meal arrives, go ahead and get yerself something to eat and take yer bath. I am going down to the pub to see what I can find out about the English. And this time, my lady, stay here.”
Ewan waited for Jacqueline to nod in agreement before he exited the room. The pub was busy and lively with the English passing through town. Men sat around talking, spilling their drinks and flirting with the local harlots. Ewan took a seat at a corner table, hoping to remain undisturbed. As one of the barmaids came towards him with a mug of whiskey in her hand, one of the English soldiers grabbed onto her waist causing her to fall onto his lap. Licking the side of her cheek, the young lass turned her head away from him.
“What’s wrong? Surely you cannot deny me,” the Englishman said.
Ewan put his hand over the handle of his dagger and was about to get up just before an older man came to sit down at his table.
“Oh, I wouldna do that if I were ye, lad,” the man said in a low voice as he placed a jug of whiskey down in front of Ewan.
Ewan released his grip off the dagger and placed it onto the jug and took a swig.
“Name’s Gawain McGinnis. Me wife tells me that ye and yer new bride are passing through. If ye want my advice, I suggest ye move on yer way quickly in the morn’.”
“I am no’ lookin’ for trouble. As ye said, we are just passing through. How come the English are occupying this town? Quite far north from the border wit out an entire army wit ‘em, in case there is a revolt.”
The man looked around the room making sure that no one could hear him. “They are seeking their Lord’s bride. They say that some Scots have kidnapped her and are hiding her in the Highlands. Says he desperately misses her and wants her back. Even offered a reward; a hefty amount of silver for her safe return. Now e’eryone is lookin’ for the lass, to fill their pockets.”
Ewan listened very attentively to the man trying to not show any sign that the lass they were looking for was only a few doors down from where they stood. He now knew the real danger she was in. Not only would the English be searching for her, so would the Scots. Even the most trustworthy man can stab a knife in your back for a few pieces of coin. Ewan knew that he had to get Jacqueline to Carrick at once. He could depend on Robert the Bruce to offer her protection and sanctuary.
Ewan stayed to finish off his whiskey. Any sudden moves would draw attention to himself and that was the last thing he needed. Slipping out the back, he quickly went to go check on Jacqueline. Opening the door and hastily shutting it behind him, he found Jacqueline sitting in front of the fire drying her hair.
“What did you learn?” she asked.
“We will need to leave before the sun rises. They claim to be searching for their Lord’s bride. Apparently he misses you and can nay live wit out you. They have offered a reward fer yer return.”
“Misses me? That is a lie. If they find me they will kill me, Ewan,” Jacqueline said in a panic.
“I ken, lass. I believe ye. We need to get as much rest as we can. We have quite a journey ahead of us. I am taking ye to Carrick. Robert the Bruce will be able to offer ye protection far beyond what I can. Ye will be safe there.”
“Robert the Bruce?”
“Aye. He is a tough mon, but will listen and sympathize wit ye.”
“I’m scared, Ewan.”
“I ken ye are, lass but ye dinna need to be. Ye are safe wit me and I promise ye will be safe at Carrick.”
At that moment, Ewan wanted to comfort the lass. Hold her in his arms and promise her that he would do all that he could to protect her. But Ewan knew that doing so would only make him want her more than he already had been feeling.
Ewan watched as Jacqueline hobbled to the bed and folded down the covers. Her soft creamy skin glistened from the dim flames from the hearth. He ached to touch her and run his fingers through the curls of her soft hair. Even the smell of her enticed him. He recalled her sweet taste when they shared that kiss and longed for that sensation again.
Slipping into the bed, he marveled at how the covers curved around the form of her body. Feeling hi
s groin begin to stiffen, he ran his fingers through his hair, desperately warding off the feelings that he was beginning to develop for the lass. He walked over to the chair in front of the hearth and sat down.
Jacqueline heard Ewan sit down in the chair and begin to unravel the leather straps of his boots. One by one, she heard them drop onto the floor. Hearing the splash of water, she turned to look in his direction. Ewan was faced away from her in nothing but his kilt. She watched as he washed his body down with the wet rag she left hanging over the side of the tub.
Jacqueline’s eyes followed the expanse of his shoulders down to his lower back. His body was perfectly sculpted with tone muscles and dominant features. Jacqueline couldn’t help but stare at the scars that lined his back. Must be battle wounds, she presumed. As Ewan began to turn around, Jacqueline abruptly shut her eyes not to get caught gawking at him.
Observantly listening to every sound he made, she heard Ewan walk over to the side of the bed and could almost feel his presence looking down at her. Her heart began to pound deeper within her chest as her breathing grew faster. Did he decide to share the bed after all? Was he going to kiss her again? Jacqueline’s body tingled as she yearned for his lips to be on hers. As much as she wanted to fight it and deny it, she knew it would be impossible for her to resist him.
Jacqueline felt her stomach tighten with nervousness as the wetness she felt between her legs deceived her. Jacqueline fought the urge to open her eyes. Her hands clenched the top of the blanket as she felt the sudden shudder of him pressing up against the bed. Ewan pulled onto the folded blanket at the end of the bed and slid it off the bed and stepped away. Jacqueline heard him settle himself onto the ground. She felt relieved but deep inside had a foreign feeling, of disappointment.
She wondered what it would be like to lie in his arms. When he held her in his arms on top of his horse, it only gave her comfort. Angered at herself for her irrational thoughts, she knew that a relationship between them was a foolish notion and thought that she was taking too kindly to his generosity. She swore to herself that the kiss had meant nothing and would not have happened if she was not moved by his compassion. Jacqueline made up her mind that it would never happen again. She rolled onto her side and fell asleep.
April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 02 Page 7
