Or perhaps she wants tae be with me, tae find oot tha depths o' pleasure I had promised her while I was blinded by lust, Hector added mentally.
Donald might think that Hector wanted Victoria near him for her protection and safety - and he was right - but not fully so. Hector wanted her near him for another reason, a carnal one. He loved the feel of her in his arms, the slight weight of her on his lap, the soft heat of her skin, and the wonderful smell of her hair.
But even thinking of how he craved those things made him wonder again how this deep attraction had come to be. As a red-blooded man with natural urges, Hector had felt flashes of lust many times, but they usually came and went. The one he had for Victoria was constant. It never seemed to waver. Having her close only fed the attraction, but to his credit, it didn’t show much, it only simmered under his skin.
They had walked nearly a mile more when Victoria started to shift in his arms, a signal that told Hector she was waking up. Hector faced straight ahead, but through the corner of his eye, he felt pleasure seeing her heavily lashed eyes flutter a bit before they opened fully. A look of confusion crossed her face before it settled into awareness, and she twisted to look at him.
“Where are we?”
Hector replied, “Ye must be hungry. We hae been travelin’ a while.”
Victoria shook her head as pink crawled up her cheeks, “Not much but I need to…find a bush.”
Grinning, Hector said, “Choose yer pick, there’s nothin’ but bushes o’ all shapes an’ sizes oot here in tha countryside.”
Flushing more, Victoria pointed to a thick hedge at the side of the road. “That one.”
Gesturing for Donald to wait, Hector guided the horse over to the side of the road, gracefully alighted from the mount, gently grasped Victoria’s waist, and took her down from the stationary steed. With a smile, Victoria moved off but stumbled on weak legs and acting quickly, Hector grabbed her.
“Easy there, lass,” Hector replied with a smirk, “Let tha blood get tae yer limbs afore ye take tae runnin’ off.”
The mild glare Victoria shot him didn’t damper Hector’s humored mood, but he held her until she nodded her readiness to move off. He didn’t let it bother him when the absence of her touch left his skin deprived as she pulled away.
Going back to his horse, Hector called over to Donald, “Let’s get somewhat inside this woodland, stayin’ oot here in tha open is just an invitation fer trouble.”
“Agreed,” Donald said, as they walked the horses beyond the tree line and found a shady spot not too far in and fairly close to where Victoria was relieving herself.
“Aye, this should do it.” Fishing around for the packets of salted venison, bread, and wineskins that Roran had given them before they had left, Hector readied them for when Victoria came back.
“When we get tae Cladich,” Donald asked as he prepared his meal, “Who d’ye ken might remember aboot tha boy?”
“Most likely tha elders.” Hector replied while finding a tree and resting his back on it, “An’ tha owner o' tha inn if he’s still alive an’ kicking. I’m convinced there must be somethin’ there tae lead us tae him.”
A soft rustle of bushes announced Victoria’s approach, and in plain daylight, it still was strange to see the beautiful lady in drab men’s clothing.
It’s a fittin’ disguise tae tha inattentive passerby, but anyone wi’ a lick o' guid sense in their heed would see she isnae a man, Hector thought.
“C’mon, sit.” Hector gestured to the shady tree he and Donald were sitting under. “Ye need tae eat somethin’ lass, yer nae nearly as hardy as me an’ Donald are, an’ I am nae allowin’ me Maw’s trainin’ o' bein’ a gentleman tae go tae waste.”
Victoria huffed delicately through her nose, “No, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
As she sat, Hector handed her the wrapped slivers of meat, bread, and the skin of wine. Feeling appeased when she started to eat, Hector rested his head back on the tree and thought briefly of what they were going to do in the next few hours. If they kept a good pace, they should reach a town in the next three or four hours and could buy some food to keep them until the next village.
Hector knew that even if he wanted to, there was not much chance of getting Victoria proper lodging in an inn at every town they came upon as some villages were few and far between. Hector knew that they were going to be wilderness-bound for a good while. Slanting an eye to the silently eating lady, Hector once again felt awe that she was holding on so bravely and without a single complaint.
He then went back to resting his head and soaking up the shade when Hector heard Victoria pose a question; but not to him, to Donald.
“Donald,” Victoria said quietly. “I sincerely admire you helping Hector on this quest, but aside from knowing that you’re his friend, I know nothing about you. Just as I imagine you don’t know much about me aside from the fact that I’m of Moore blood. I assume that you must have had…doubts about my intentions at first, but I hope I have proved myself.”
Shooting a look to his nearly flabbergasted companion, Hector sat silently as Donald swallowed the lump of food in his mouth. A reflective look crossed the other man’s face while he brushed his hands off.
“Aye, I hae,” Donald replied with a nod, “Ye’ve proven yerself an’ I’m appeased tha' ye have his best interest at heart.”
“Thank you,” Victoria replied.
“And tae answer yer question,” Donald added, “I was raised by an old woman. I remember we lived in a few places afore we settled at Clan MacTavish. She died when I was aboot five years an’ though I was young, I wasnae foolish, so I went tae tha castle e’ery day lookin’ fer bread. I was still a boy though, easily distracted, an’ had a fascination with chickens. I was chasin’ one through tha courtyard an’ ran full tilt into Hector.”
Pausing to look at the other man, Donald laughed lowly but continued, “I kent who he was then – e’eryone kent who tha Laird’s son was. I was scared oot o' me mind, as I had knocked tha poor boy facedown tae tha ground an’ he had a mouthful o' dirt when he got up. I felt I was in fer tha whoopin’ o’ me life but then… he offered me his hand, one o’ friendship. I took it an’ I ne’er looked back.”
Hector looked to Victoria who, to his slight confusion, had a deeply thoughtful look on her face but it cleared up quickly. She then looked at Hector, “How old were you then?”
“Five, almost six years,” Hector replied. “Why?”
“Did you have the same temper then? Because if so, I believe you would have repaid him in kind for his blunder,” Victoria replied slyly.
“I dinnae, but kenning it, I wish I had it then,” Hector huffed.
“So your temper grew with you,” Victoria added.
“Yer right in tha' assumption.” Donald added, “His temper started tae kick in when he was aboot thirteen years. Ye could hear his yell from tha peak o’ tha Ben Cruachan mountains.”
Green eyes narrowed at Donald’s blatant tease, “Like ye were any different.”
Half an hour passed with the two men trading stories of their past, and by their banter, Victoria was pleased to know that Donald was raised with Hector like a brother. She was told how the two ate the same food, slept in the same chamber, and trained with the same knights. When the time came for them to get back on the road, conversation still flowed among the three until the rocking motions of the horse put Victoria back to sleep.
They did make it to a town in time for Hector to buy them food but there wasn’t an inn, so they had to make do with an empty stable. There, Hector gave Victoria a bucket of water to wash her hands and face to get rid of the road’s dirt, and to be somewhat clean when she ate.
“So, Donald, you didn’t get to tell me what happened when you both began training.” Victoria added, “More specifically, the tantrum Hector threw, or that time when he insisted on searching the bees nest for honey.”
“Ach!” Hector groaned, “What tha devil hae gotten into ye two? Is my
childhood tha' much amusement?”
“Without a doubt,” Victoria replied, while not even looking at him as her attention was trained on Donald.
With half a mind, Hector blocked out the tale of his sixteen-year-old self boastfully challenging a seasoned knight of the castle, and who had ended up with a broken nose and shattered pride. Eventually, Donald, after agreeing to take the second watch, nodded off to sleep and left Hector and Victoria awake.
Not losing his chance, Hector reached out and pulled the quiescent lady into his arms. Pressing her close, he teased her, “Heard enough aboot me shameful childhood, noo?”
“I’d say eventful, not shameful,” Victoria corrected, while laying her head on his chest. “The most amusement I had when I was a child was besting my father at cards. I had no companions like you had, and the only mother figure I could turn to was Ruth, the servant woman who had been there for Aunt Emily. I couldn’t run, climb trees, play outside, or pet a dog. The servants were servants not friends, and since I didn’t have friends, I read a lot.”
Hector paused as he tried to imagine what it was to grow up alone in a house with many servants but no friends and only books as company. He shuddered.
“I’m sorry, m'eudail.” Hector murmured in her hair, “Tha’ had tae be horrible.”
The young lady’s slender shoulders shrugged, “Looking back on it now, I suppose it was, but it was just… my life.”
Nosing at the top of her head, Hector felt the soft attraction in his chest flare to arousal, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. It was a soft touch, nothing more than a mere meeting of lips, but that didn’t stop the want for her from clawing at his stomach, begging to be fulfilled.
Valiantly, Hector denied his base urges and rested his lips on her forehead, “Sleep, me lovely.”
Victoria’s blue eyes searched his for a moment before she nodded, pressed herself closer to him, and closed her eyes. It was her rhythmic breaths that told the Scotsman that she was asleep, and though he wanted to join her, he had to be vigilant and watch.
Digging into the soldier within him, Hector regulated his breathing to a state of calmness but not sleep, and lowered his eyelids. He made himself stay vigilant, as each breath the lady in his arms took was reason enough to stay awake and be protective. Every passing moment he knew that he didn’t want Victoria as his lover, but as his wife, and God knew she had the strength to be a leader.
But only time would tell, so he designated himself to watch over the two people who were important to him… even as a part of him feared that he wasn’t enough to protect them.
Chapter 21
The journey to Cladich, Scotland, was slowly draining her but Victoria said not a word to the two men. The days were long, tiresome, and blistering hot out in the open road, and the nights were too short for her to regain much of her strength. It was slightly inconceivable how just riding on a horse tired her as, incredibly, she was only sitting on the moving mount. However, each new day came with exhaustion and soreness that she hadn’t had the day before.
Erratic thoughts of giving up and turning back came to her, but Victoria forced herself to go on. The only comfort she had came at night when Hector held her in his arms, and they spoke. It was a joy listening to his deep lyrical brogue as he told her what life was like in the Highlands of Scotland. He told her how the whole community was like family to the leading Clan and that no man, whatever his station, was excluded.
To the heiress, just the thought of having her groomsman and a maid eating with her at her table felt odd at first, but it grew on her. The Scots did not have the same stiff hierarchy and the condescending outlook on others, her fellow Englishmen had, and it felt appeasing to have the chance to recognize another man as a fellow human being.
Victoria found herself asking questions about the Clan, how it was run and even inquiring what part Donald played in the Clan’s hierarchy. Donald was hesitant at first but he opened up, telling how sticking to Hector’s side all those years, he had been automatically given the position of the Tanist or Hector’s second when he took on the Lairdship.
After getting comfortable, Donald had admitted that he excelled in archery, swordsmanship, and swimming, danced better than Hector but professed that he couldn’t sing to save his life. He even told her about a woman, Catrina, who he was considering a hand fasting ceremony with.
Victoria silently marveled how the man could leave the love of his life behind to follow his friend - she didn’t know of any Englishmen who had that level of loyalty.
Most nights she fell asleep dreaming of the bluish-grey peaks of the Scottish mountains that seemed to disappear in the sky, and the deep indigoes of the lochs that held mystic beings in their depths. Though they were not in a position to explore the pull they both felt to each other, Victoria and Hector did steal a kiss or two when there was enough privacy - like the one happening at the inside of an abandoned barn while Donald had gone to get food.
Her legs were straddling his body, and she was being held in tightly. Victoria’s arms were resting on Hector's shoulders, and her left hand dug deep into his thick hair. Hector was kissing her softly, but that didn’t stop the spellbinding surge that ran through her as a numbing effect took the rest of her body. A deeper kiss educed a low moan from the depths of her chest while his arousal was blatantly present under her thighs.
Hector’s hand trailed down her back, evoking shivers as it passed, to settle on the fullness of her behind, before sneaking in under the loose end of her shirt. When his warm hand pressed directly on her skin, Victoria shuddered and arched into him.
“Ahem,” an amused voice said from behind them, “When yer finished devourin’ each other, I ken ye’d like tae devour yer food.”
It was as though a pail of ice water had been upended over Victoria's head, and the freezing trails of it seeped into every part of her body, indiscriminately extinguishing the fire that was sparkling in her stomach. Mortified, Victoria pressed her face into Hector’s neck while the infernal man laughed.
Pulling back, appalled, Victoria wondered if Hector had lost his mind and asked him the same, “Are you… laughing?”
“Aye,” Hector smirked, “Ye need tae abandon some o' those reserves ye hae, want an’ desire is nothin’ tae be ashamed o'.”
“Maybe to you.” Irritated, Victoria removed herself from his lap and sat away from him, “My apologies, Donald, that was unseemly.”
“Ye dinnae ken Hector.” Donald grinned, “Unseemly is his middle name.”
“Oh shut yer gob,” Hector snapped. “Do ye hae more than oor scran fer us because if ye dinnae, I’m–”
“The men are all o'er tha town, Hector,” Donald cut in grimly, “Just like Mr. Johnson said, messengers were sent tae e'ery town near Crowland, telling them tae be on their guard fer Scottish killers who are on a rampage. We cannae enter any town noo - e'eryone is on tha lookout. There’s e'en a reward fer oor bodies, alive or dead - signed by tha Duke o’ Crowland an’ endorsed by tha King.”
Instantly, Victoria felt her appetite disappear, and a sick feeling ran through her instead. It was crystal clear now - her father had arrived home with the intention of marrying her off to Mr. Keating, only to see her gone.
He had probably gotten notice the two Scotsmen – men from the Clan his father had hated - had been in his constituency, and the Duke had realized what was happening. Victoria knew her father wasn’t a fool. He could be soft-spoken and polite for a lot of the time, but the only way he had held on to his superiority in the House of Lords was because Geoffrey had an astute and shrewd mind.
“He knows,” Victoria mumbled. “My Father knows who you are and…he’s--” it pained her to say it, but she had to, “--he’s just as disparaging to Scots as his father was. I’ve heard him mutter under his breath once or twice that your kind stole his sister from him, and if he’s still angry about her, he must be enraged about me…he’ll…he will kill you.”
The last word made bile rise to
her throat, and Victoria slapped a hand over her mouth. A macabre vision of Hector and Donald’s mangled bodies, blank unseeing eyes, and cold skin made her go cold, and a frantic thought came to her.
“I have to go back,” Victoria announced all of a sudden. “I have to go back to him.”
Hector’s eyes widened, and he shot out a hand to grab her, “Nae, nae! Ye cannae go back there, Victoria!”
Struggling to rip her hand out of his grip, Victoria felt a strength she knew she didn’t truly have possess her. “But I must! Don’t you see, he will kill you if I don’t go back!”
“He’ll try tae kill us anyway,” Hector replied sagely, “E’en after yer back in his clutches. Tha only way is fer us tae go tae Scotland. His arm cannae reach us there.”
Highlander's Forbidden Soulmate Page 17
