What would happen once he delivered Somersby's book to the Prince Regent? Would he ever admit he cared for her? Would he consider courting her? They'd be safe once the book of accounts was in royal hands. Somersby and his cohorts would have no time to plot revenge while on the run from the British army.
John could then court her if he wished. But she knew deep in her heart that he would return to taking on dangerous missions for the Crown.
He'd push her away and pretend she did not matter to him.
She would lose him once they reached London.
Was there any way to win his heart before then?
JOHN FELT A shiver run up his spine. He and Nicola had slept in the forest last night and had now been traveling for several hours when he sensed they were being followed. He'd learned to trust his instincts and always rely on them, so he knew for a certainty that someone was on their trail. But those same instincts told him it was not Somersby, for the marquis was not a patient man and would have made his move by now.
So who was following them?
He maintained an easy, loping pace until the trail turned sharply to the right and put them out of sight of their trackers for a moment. As soon as they'd passed the bend, he quickly dismounted, grabbed Nicola by the waist to take her off Valor, and then led them off the narrow path toward a copse of trees that was thick enough to hide them all. "Stay here," he said with quiet urgency. "Keep Valor calm."
Nicola's eyes rounded in alarm. "John-"
"No questions now. I need you to keep hidden." He hurried back to the trail with knife in hand, prepared to take on whoever rounded the curve.
Within moments, several stragglers came into view. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered and stepped in front of the lead horse. "If it isn't Red Sammy Fraser. What are you doing in these parts, you old horse thief?"
The portly Scot swung his leg over and slid off his aging mount with surprising agility for a man his age and size. "Bainbridge? Don't tell me I've been wasting my time following ye these past hours. We heard the shots yesterday and saw Captain Grant's boat suddenly veer toward that broken down dock. Where's the girl and that magnificent horse that came off the boat with ye?"
John had dealt with the canny Scot in the past and trusted him as far as any man could ever trust a reiver. It was the other three men he didn't know and had no reason to believe wouldn't harm him or Nicola. "The girl happens to be my wife and she's pointing a rifle at your heart, awaiting my word to shoot."
It was an outright lie, but Sammy's companions would not know that.
Sammy took off his tam and ran a hand through his thick, white hair that had once been a blazing, fiery red, thereby earning him the nickname of Red Sammy. "Ye're married, lad?" He arched a snowy eyebrow in surprise. "Couldn't have been long ago."
"Only a month. Married in London. Came up here to hunt and enjoy the scenery, but we got into a bit of trouble."
Sammy glanced at his companions and all four of them grinned. "Those shots we heard," Sammy said with a nod. He glanced toward the copse where Nicola and Valor were hidden. "Ye saved m'life last year and I won't be forgetting that any time soon. Tell yer wife to set down her weapon and come greet yer old friend." He then turned to his companions. "The horse and girl … er, lady, are his and that's the way they'll stay."
He turned back to John with a sad shake of his head. "Too bad. That's the finest bit of horseflesh I've ever seen in these parts. But I give ye my word, laddie. Ye and yer wife and that magnificent beastie of yers shall have safe passage through the mountains. Ye'll be on yer own beyond Loch Avon though." He cleared his throat. "We had a bit of a misunderstanding with a regiment of Scots dragoons a few months back and seems they've put a price on my head."
John winced. "What did you do this time?"
"Ain't never harmed no one, if that's what ye're thinking. But we misappropriated a wagon they were delivering to Braemear. We thought it carried casks of ale. How were we to know it carried their payroll?"
John groaned. "You stole from the royal exchequer? Sammy, not even I can help you out of that scrape. But I'll see what I can do. Are you willing to return what you stole?"
"Don't need yer assistance, m'lord. But thank ye for the offer." He turned back to his three companions once more and scowled at them. "Get off yer horses and come pay yer respects to the man what saved yer father's life, m'boys."
John arched an eyebrow in surprise. "These are your sons?"
Sammy nodded. "Archie, Malcolm, and the youngest is Angus."
The boys, who were all lean and strong in appearance, did not look too pleased about their father's command. Upon closer inspection, he saw the family resemblance. Sammy had likely been a handsome man in his younger years, but harsh Scottish winters, too much home-distilled whisky, and a fondness for treacle pies had not been kind to his body.
Archie was the eldest and served as spokesman for all three sons. "We appreciate yer saving Sammy's life, Lord Bainbridge. He speaks highly of ye, so ye need have no fear of us. We don't steal from our friends."
John smothered a grin as he tucked the knife he had been holding back into his boot. Sammy and his sons were reivers, which meant they'd steal from their own grandmothers if the opportunity presented itself. They wouldn't blink an eye before stealing from family, friends, or neighbors. However, he had no choice but to take them at their word, for saving their father's life was no small thing to them. "I'll fetch my wife."
He hoped Nicola had overheard their conversation and understood that while he trusted Sammy and his boys to some extent, he did not trust them entirely. He wasn't certain what they would do if they ever found out she was not married to him. Not that they would do anything immoral. No, his biggest fear was that one of those lummoxes would decide it was time to take a wife for himself and choose Nicola.
If they were stupid enough to steal a royal payroll, they'd be stupid enough to steal a young woman, no matter her aristocratic connections or her objections.
He strode to the copse. "Nicola … my love." Lord, it felt so right to call her that. "Er … it's all right. You needn't be afraid. These men are friends of mine. They are eager to meet my bride."
He took her by the hand, unable to bring himself to release her while in the presence of Sammy and his sons. Friends such as Sammy could never completely be trusted. The old Scot owed him a favor and took that debt seriously, but that debt would be repaid once he'd given them safe passage through the mountains.
What would Sammy do then? John wasn't certain.
In truth, probably nothing sinister would happen. John was grateful for his assistance and knew that these Frasers would not hesitate to protect him and Nicola from Somersby's men. After all, Sammy did have somewhat of a code of honor.
"A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen," Nicola said, casting them a smile that could not help but win them over with its heartfelt sweetness.
Nicola was a beautiful girl. He'd always thought so, but never more so than now. She needed no elegant gown or expensive adornments to enhance her looks. The simplicity of her clothes and casual style of her hair brought out her natural beauty and allowed it to shine through.
She was dressed in a drab, brown woolen gown. Her long hair was braided and tied back with a ribbon. Her eyes drooped slightly from fatigue, and her cheeks and nose were pink from the chill in the mountain air.
Sunlight filtered over her. To John, she glowed like a creature of magic, a wood sprite or exquisite faerie.
He tore his gaze away from Nicola and turned to Sammy and his boys, grinning as he noted their gaping mouths and wide eyes. Indeed, Nicola was casting her magic over Sammy and his lads. They were struck mute by her beauty and could not form the words to respond to her greeting. Angus was the first to recover his wits. "Good day to ye, Lady Bainbridge."
Sammy chuckled. "I can see why ye married her, laddie. Got yerself a prime stallion," he said with a longing glance at Valor, "and a prize filly." He grinned in approval at Nicola. "Didn't think Bainbridge would ever marry, but ye must have struck him like a bolt of lightning. What man could ever resist a pretty thing like ye?"
"Thank you, Mr. Fraser," Nicola said sweetly, but she nudged a little closer to John's side, for Sammy was doing little to hide his admiration of her. Neither were his boys.
John gave her hand a gentle squeeze to assure her that he would keep her close. "Sammy, my wife is tired and hasn't had much to eat. Do you-"
"Say no more, laddie. Ye'll be our guests this evening in our home. We ought to reach it by nightfall if we don't dawdle." He turned to his sons. "Mount up, lads. We're having company this evening."