The Highlander’s Promise (The Highlands Warring Scottish Romance) (A Medieval Historical Romance Book)

by Anne Morrison

  The idea of Blair's bastard being worried about anyone's skin beyond her own was absurd. To be that concerned over anyone, let alone an Englishman who she had only met a few days ago, was ridiculous.

  Her thoughts were as dark as the storm that had caught them the day before, and it was a poor time for Nicholas to start to inquire about her past.

  “Your parents weren't kind to you.”

  Ava knew he could feel her tighten her arms around his waist before she made herself relax. This was what came of getting to know people.

  “Am I meant to answer that?”

  “It only startles me. The cows that you steal. They go back to Clan Blair, don't they? You sell a few, like you did to Kait.”

  “Where else would they go? It's not as if I have land to graze them or much interest in watching over them beyond what it takes to get them up the mountain.”

  “Do you know what's easier than getting stolen cows across treacherous peaks and enemy lands?”

  “No, but I think you're going to tell me.”

  “Not doing that. Almost anything else.”

  Ava sighed in frustration.

  “Get to the point, Englishman. Ask me what it is you want to know.”

  “Why do it? This can't be the only path that is open to you. Kait Riordan might not have been the friendliest woman in the world, but that was more because of me than it was because of you.”

  “I'm a little old to be a fosterling, don't you think?”

  “But you could have a place. A real place. You needn't do this.”

  Ava started to snap at him, because it wasn't as if she had never had this conversation before, and then she paused.

  “Are you afraid?”

  He glanced back at her, glaring a little. She had started fights before with men over less than that simple question. Again, however, Nicholas surprised her.

  “I was last night. You know that I couldn't protect you, yes? Not against that many.”

  Ava colored, and for a brief moment, she entertained the thought of smacking Nicholas hard across the back of the head.

  “Do you think you would have been fighting on your own?”

  “And you wouldn't have been enough either. You are good in a fight, Ava, but you're not another two or three men. And that's what we would have needed.”

  Ava chewed on her lower lip, glad that Nicholas wasn't looking at her. He was right, which was the pain of it. In a head to head fight, they would have lost, regardless of how lucky they were.

  “I still got us out of it. You would have gotten us killed.”

  “Don't you think I know that?” T

  he pain and fear in his voice stopped her. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even disapproving of who she was or what she did. He had been genuinely afraid.

  “How often have you been in that situation, Ava? How often do you get out of things by the skin of your teeth or some kind of devil's own luck?”

  “I'm still alive.”

  “For now.”

  Ava closed her eyes and pressed her forehead between Nicholas's shoulder blades. That small gesture made him stiffen at first, but then he sighed softly. She could feel him relax at her touch.

  “I'm still here.”

  “I'm glad.”

  Ava waited, but Nicholas didn't say anything else. Instead, they rode west, and Ava became aware of a strange warmth in her, something that felt a little like tears, a little like longing.

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  chapter 22

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  They arrived at the tiny port town of Farley just a few hours before sunset, and as they started down the slope toward the docks and the scatter of small houses, Nicholas was struck by the beauty of the Highlands. The sun sinking low into the sea gave everything a nearly mystic cast of warm light, the water shone, and the dimming blue above, where he could just barely make out a few gleaming stars, made him catch his breath.

  As if she could somehow pick up what he was feeling, Ava laughed slightly, squeezing him in around the waist in a companionable kind of way.

  “My home is very beautiful,” she said softly.

  He couldn't help but agree.

  “Have you spent a great deal of time here?”

  “A bit. Mostly when I needed a ship, or when I was meeting someone I thought might be suitable for the work I do. Not often.”

  “But it's still your home?”

  Ava laughed, and something about the warm and husky sound of it sent a shiver up his spine. It occurred to him that the only thing he had ever heard that he liked more was her whispering his name and then crying it out at the apex of her passion a few nights before.

  “It's all my home. From the mountains to the sea to the fields. The Highlands are my home. It's all mine.”

  For the first time, it made Nicholas feel a pang for England's northern incursion. He was a knight, and at the end of the day, that was just another word for soldier. He went where he was told; he fought who he was told to fight. He had fought in Scotland, and then in France, and he had never spent too much time thinking about the rightness of it all or the wrongness.

  It belongs to her more surely than it ever belonged to Edward. The idea was not nearly as shocking as it could be.

  “Yours and not Robert the Bruce's?” he asked to distract himself from thoughts that were likely treason.

  Ava laughed again.

  “I can share. Mine and his and Kait Riordan’s, and the MacTaggarts’ and MacRaes’ and Blairs’...”

  “You're a strange and generous thing sometimes, Ava.”

  “Ah, well, I'm not so generous as all that. I wouldn't share with an Englishman.”

  “Not with me?”

  He had thought that she would laugh and say of course not, but instead, Ava was still.

  “You, I may allow to stay for a while. As a guest.”

  The gravity that she brought to that pronouncement made Nicholas laugh.

  “You mean that, Ava?”

  “I do.”

  It was, he decided, better than he had been welcomed at home in England, but as they descended toward the town, he wondered when he had stopped thinking of England as home.

  * * *

  Even this early in the season, the ships docked at Farley were outfitted to work. They were, almost universally, leaner than the cogs he was accustomed to in the South, with a scarred look to them he could tell had come from engaging in battle.

  “Smugglers,” he said in surprise.

  Ava glanced at him.

  “Are you going to balk at that? This is the best way to get north to Crawford lands. If we try following the coast, we'll be a solid few weeks, as deep as the inlets cut.”

  “No. I suppose I ought not.”

  Ava grinned at him as she dismounted and started for the cog on the far end of the dock, one still busy loading despite the rapidly fading light.

  “No, you really ought not. You've been traveling with a raider for a while now, and that should have relieved you of all of your knightly sensibilities a while back.”

  Nicholas scowled a little at that, but there was a part of him that could not disagree with her. He was learning, in bits and pieces, more quickly than he would have thought possible, that life in the North was very different. There was no time for the niceties that he had grown up with, that he thought were as immutable as the laws of Heaven themselves. Things moved fast, and perhaps it took someone like Ava herself to keep up with them.

  Ava made her way down the dock, walking with a swagger that looked a little odd in her skirts. Leading Cobie, Nicholas followed behind. She called a greeting up to the men who were loading the cargo onto the ship, and they were both directed to a man that Nicholas would have thought would have been better off gumming a stick of dried meat rather than captaining such a lean and dangerous-looking ship.

  Captain Benning sported a snow-white fringe around an otherwise bald pate. He must have been an enormous man at one p
oint, but time had stooped him, putting a permanent bend in his spine. There was still a natural athleticism to his step, however. Nicholas guessed that he could probably still do a great deal of damage with the sword he wore.

  The captain roared with pleasure to see Ava, dragging her into his arms with an enthusiasm that was almost alarming.

  “Well, if isn't Blair's bastard! Ava, my girl! If you've come to bring me some more kine, I can't help you this trip...”

  “No, no, Captain, no cows this time, just me and this man here.”

  “A man and you dressed up so proper I barely recognized you. Well, isn't that fine.”

  Ava snorted.

  “You can get that pleased look off your face, Captain. He's nearly as much cargo as that black bull that gave us such trouble last year.”

  “Oh, aye?”

  The old man gave Nicholas a narrow look, and despite the man's age, Nicholas could almost feel how sharp his gaze still was. Most didn't look so close, but Nicholas was suddenly certain the man took it all in, the small signs that he was a foreigner in their land, and one who was associated with an invader at that.

  Nicholas's hand was beginning to inch for his sword, but Ava still seemed entirely at her ease.

  “Yes. So, if you please, I'd like a berth for the both of us as far as Carlisle or as close as you can get us to Crawford lands.”

  Whatever Captain Benning thought of Nicholas, he seemed to trust Ava, and the two haggled out the price with speed and an affectionate friendliness that Nichols refused to allow to make him jealous.

  The man is old enough to be her grandfather. The man's probably old enough to have broken bread with Methuselah. I will not be ridiculous about this.

  Finally, Captain Benning threw up his hands, shaking his head, and apparently having a good time.

  “All right, you menace. You'll beggar me at this rate, but what does an old man with one foot in the grave matter? Take the small starboard berth. It's good enough for the likes of you. You can go get settled now. We sail with the tide, which ought to be an hour or so before dawn. If you're not on board, I'll happily take your money with me when we go.”

  “Fine enough,” Ava said with a grin. “Pleasure as always, Captain.”

  They gave Cobie over to a mate who would see him secured for their voyage, and Nicholas followed Ava down the narrow ladder to their quarters.

  It was a tiny room consisting of mostly a single bed and walls that Nicholas could span without ever spreading his arms.

  Ava sighed.

  “Could be worse. I can ask for a hanging hammock to set above if it's too small.”

  “It'll be fine. Does he often assume you'll be sharing a bed with a man you've brought aboard?”

  “I never have before,” Ava said.

  Nicholas felt an obscure sense of relief.

  “That man knows that I'm English, doesn't he?”

  “He does. He's probably got a little English blood himself. He doesn't care about a thing unless it'll bring him some profit or take some of his money away. I am not worried he's going to murder you for the place you were born.”

  “That's a comfort, I suppose.”

  They shared a late dinner of cheese and bread, and Nicholas felt a strange sense of peace fall over him, followed by an intense sensation of guilt.

  “What is it?” Ava asked.

  He glanced at her with surprise.

  “What?”

  “You suddenly got a look as if every good thing had gone out of the world.”

  “Is that what it looks like?”

  “Something. What's wrong?”

  Nicholas let out a long breath. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to mind her own business, especially if she wouldn't speak of her own home, but what would be the use of that?

  “When I came back from France, I was consumed with the idea of finding my sister and my niece. It was all I could think about. When I found my sister dead, it was the end of the world. Well, I suppose it was the end of my world. I was lost, and I think sometimes that the only reason I did not throw myself into the gorge was because I suddenly realized that Catherine might still be alive.”

  Nicholas jumped a little when Ava touched his hand. He swallowed.

  “And then I had a purpose. I had a thing I needed to do. I needed to find out if she were dead or alive, and I needed to help her, bring her home if I could. And suddenly, I could move again. I had something to fight for.”

  “And now?”

  “I think I went most of the last two days without thinking about her. Like I've forgotten her.”

  He had thought perhaps Ava would sit with him in silence, or perhaps offer some comforting words. Instead, she took her hand from his and shook her head as if he were the greatest fool she had ever heard.

  “Because you're moving north across a country that would likely hang you like a dog if it could, all because you forgot a little girl for a few days. Spend your time worrying about things that matter, Englishman.”

  “You're laughing at me.”

  “So often.”

  For some reason, her gentle mockery did make him feel better.

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  chapter 23

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  The bed was so narrow that there was no way they could sleep on it side by side. Instead, Ava lay on her side, and Nicholas curled up against her back, his arm pillowed under her head. She was stripped down to her shift and him to the shirt he commonly wore under his tunic, and it was enough, underneath their other clothes and the wool blankets provided, to keep them warm.

  “The winds from over the sea never loved the people of the land,” she murmured, already drifting off. “That is why they are so vicious and cold. My mother told me that before she died.”

  Nicholas was curled so close to her, she could feel his breath against her ear when he laughed softly.

  “My mother told me something similar. The sea winds were wolves come to devour us.”

  Ava hadn't spoken of her mother in a long time. She wasn't sure why she had done so now, except for the fact that she was so very tired that it was hard to guard her tongue.

  Instead of thinking about it, she fell into a deep sleep. She was on the ship of one of the few people in the Highlands who would spit on her if she were on fire, and she was curled up in the arms of a man who had almost fought armed soldiers for her while naked. She wasn't sure she had ever been so safe.

  Ava wasn't sure what awakened her a while later. The room, with no window or shutter, was pitch black, and at first, all she could hear was Nicholas's breathing soft in her ear. Then the ship shuddered again, and she realized that the tide had turned. The ship was leaving the shore.

  There was something a little uncanny about it, pulling away from the safety of land and venturing out to sea. Captain Benning's cog kept to the coasts, making its way north and south. Along the Scottish coast, however, the waters could be unexpectedly deep and treacherous. There were stories about the murky spirits that would pull unwary sailors right off the decks, that might draw the ships themselves to the sharp rocks of the coast. The coasts were dangerous, rough, and violent, and Ava shuddered a little at how black the water would be and how cold.

  “It's fine, don't worry, love.”

  Ava blinked in surprise at Nicholas's sleep-blurred voice. He kissed the back of her neck before nuzzling his nose at her nape. She almost laughed when his breath lengthened into deeper sleep.

  He never even woke up.

  There was something oddly touching about how he had reached out to comfort her even in his sleep. She pressed back against him, seeking more of that warmth, and his arms tightened around her.

  Then she realized that she could feel his burgeoning arousal pressed against her thigh, and her breath caught again.

  Ava knew that the desire between them hadn't died down at all. If anything, after that night in the cave, it had only grown. They had both been careful about
keeping it pushed back, always another danger to deal with, always another enemy on the horizon. Now, though, on board a ship, moving away from land... there was no threat. Nothing that wanted to hurt them.

  Ava didn't realize she was pushing back against Nicholas's body until she felt his arms tighten around her again. Her shift had gotten pushed up to her waist at some point, and now she could feel his erection against her skin, branding her with its heat.

  How can even this feel so very good? Ava had never felt so very much in her body as she did when she touched Nicholas.

  His breathing was still smooth and even. Surely, it would not hurt to press against him a little harder, to squirm in his arms, and to close her eyes at how warm his breath felt against her neck. It was an innocent pleasure, something she had never had, something she might never have again, and it made her catch her breath at how good it felt.

  Then she heard a soft laugh, and when Nicholas kissed the back of her neck, she shivered at the sheer sensuality of it.

  “And just what do you think you're doing?” he murmured, his voice velvety with menace.

  She started to answer, but then he pressed harder against her, shifting a little so she could more fully feel his strength and his need.

  “I... I was...”

  It seemed as if all of her accustomed wit had deserted her. What had she been doing? She stumbled over the words because she wasn't sure they were there to be spoken. It was a confused jumble of desire and need and longing, and she was afraid if she let any of those words out, that something she did not want to let go of would go with them.

  “It's all right,” Nicholas murmured, leaning over slightly to nibble at her earlobe. “It's fine, I promise. Right now, though, there is only one word that you need to say, all right? That word is yes.”

  Ava's breath caught in her throat, and the sudden heat that flooded her cheeks made her feel almost faint. She knew instinctively what Nicholas was offering, what he would give and what he would take if she said that short and simple little word. Her heart felt as if it might simply beat out of her chest, and a voice deep within her was already crying for Nicholas and what his touch did to her.