John laughed. "The locals think they do. Indeed, there are faerie glens all over Scotland. There's a well-known one on the Isle of Skye and another faerie glen not far from here."
Nicola's eyes rounded in delight. "Oh, how magical. I wish … never mind. It's too silly to think of such things when we're on the run for our lives."
"I'll bring you back here once proof of Somersby's treason is in safe hands and he's no longer a danger to you."
She cast him a wry smile. "John, you needn't indulge me. I know you'll never bring me back here. Perhaps my brother and Rose will take me here one day."
He said nothing, but silently promised himself that he would be the one to return here with Nicola.
They ate lunch beside the lake, careful to remain hidden within its shaded borders. Valor dined on sweet grasses and drank water from a rivulet that ran along the edge of their shady spot. Since they dared not light a fire, their repast consisted of fresh bread and cheese that Maeve had packed for them.
"Perhaps we ought to escort you to Braemar," Angus said, his young heart obviously breaking at the thought of never seeing Nicola again.
Archie cuffed him in the head. "And get ourselves arrested and hanged? Start thinking with yer head and not yer … can't say it in the presence of a lady." He cast Nicola an appreciative glance, then turned to John. "Best to keep to the outskirts of town. There's a quiet inn where the Uppity Ups like to go when they need to be discreet. Sammy's sister runs it. Her name is Adela Fraser. The inn is called The Fox's Lair. Just tell her that Sammy sent ye and he said not to charge ye for the room or the baths or the meals."
Nicola's eyes rounded in surprise. "That's quite generous of him."
Malcolm laughed. "No, it isn't. He took yer necklace."
Nicola's hand instinctively went to her throat. "My locket?"
"Aye, that's the one." Malcolm frowned lightly. "He apologizes for sorting through his lordship's pouch. I hope it dinna have sentimental value for ye."
Nicola shook her head. "No. None at all."
Archie folded his arms across his chest and grinned. "Good. He likes ye and would have felt some remorse for taking it from ye, otherwise."
John caressed her cheek. "I'll buy you another one when this is over."
Angus stormed off without saying a word.
His brothers said quick farewells and took off after him.
Nicola groaned in relief. "I don't think I shall soon forget any of these Frasers."
"Indeed, they are one of a kind. I'm surprised their Fraser laird hasn't hanged them all yet. Sammy and his boys aren't above stealing from their own." John gathered the remains of their lunch and tucked the last of the bread and cheese into his pouch. "Thank goodness," he said with a low, rumble of laughter, "the book is still here."
Nicola released her breath in a long, deep sigh. "Oh, dear. The possibility that they'd steal it never crossed my mind. I don't care about the locket, of course. But to lose that book would have been disastrous."
"Sammy wasn't going to take it. He can't read, so it holds no interest for him. But he likes shiny objects. Coins. Diamonds. He can't keep his sticky fingers off those. Yet, he does have a sense of fairness. He gave us a night at his sister's inn as his guest." He ran a hand through his hair in consternation. "You'll have to stay close to me while we're there. It isn't a respectable place and you're … temptation."
She stared at him in disbelief and laughed softly. "I haven't washed in two, or is it three, days? My hair resembles a hornet's nest. My clothes are shabby, to say the least. My-"
"Lips are sweet as nectar, and your body is what men dream of. So, stay close to me. And if anyone asks, you are my wife. I am your husband." He ran a hand through his hair once more. "And you are carrying my child."
Nicola scowled at him. "That again."
"Yes, that again." He stared at her breasts that were lush and full. Brazenly ogled them to get his point across. "Men will believe it. Everyone will believe it. Your breasts are what men dream about, too."
Her cheeks turned to crimson flames. "I … you … "
"Do you think I haven't noticed? Do you think holding you in my arms for days on end has been a chore for me? It hasn't." Indeed, it was exquisite agony. He turned away, knowing he'd said too much. What was wrong with him? He was worse than Angus. Far worse than that inexperienced lad, for he was not going to behave like a gentleman with Nicola tonight. He was going to explain that they were married and then claim his husbandly rights.
He strode to the rivulet and splashed cold water on his face.
He was a fool, a damned, stupid fool.
He'd never take Nicola without her consent. Nor would he ever take her without being fully committed to their marriage. She deserved no less.
She deserved love and happiness.
She did not deserve a tormented, hate-filled agent of the Crown.
NICOLA HADN'T EXPECTED The Fox's Lair to be as charming an inn as it was. She found it perfect in every way. The structure was a large, thatched roof cottage with cheerful flower beds along its stone walkway and a welcoming red door with a shining brass knocker in the shape of a fox at its center. Two footmen stood beside the door and a young groom stood at the ready to take whatever mode of transportation one arrived in off to the stables that were nestled deep in the nearby woods, out of sight of prying eyes.
Nicola closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I smell apple tarts."
John laughed. "I'll order us a dozen."
Within moments, the innkeeper, a plump, bright-eyed woman who could only be Sammy Fraser's sister, rushed forward to greet them. Indeed, she had the stout look of Sammy, and her round, dark eyes took everything in with avid interest. Her hair was a flaming red, no doubt enhanced by a good dose of henna dye. She cast them both speculative looks, her gaze ultimately resting on John with obvious approval. "Ye don't look like my usual guests. What brings ye here, m'lord?"
Of course, John could never be mistaken for anything other than a nobleman. He commanded authority and respect, even after days on the run, unwashed, sporting a rough growth of beard, fatigued and unkempt. Nothing could diminish his air of strength and power, or his appeal.
Nicola did not dare think about what she must look like to Adela Fraser. A half-starved rabbit, perhaps. She did not look fine enough to be John's paramour or even fine enough to pass for one of his servants.
"My wife and I ran into a spot of trouble. Your brother, Sammy, helped us out."
Her dark red eyebrows shot up at the mention of her brother. "That scoundrel? What did he steal from ye?"
"My diamond locket," Nicola said.
"Och, ye poor lass. That wretch! Did he tell ye that he'd share it with me if I gave you food and lodgings for the night?" She gave a hearty laugh when Nicola nodded. "He won't share, you know. That isn't Sammy's way."
"He won't?" She turned to John in panic.
He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb along her palm to calm her.
She was exhausted and hungry, not to mention too filthy to be permitted to stand in the entry hall of this charming inn. "John … "
"We'll pay our way, Miss Fraser. I always pay my debts. I don't care about my comfort, but my wife needs to rest." He took out the last of their funds and was about to hand it to Sammy's sister, but the woman stayed his hand.
"Ye're not the sort of clientele I usually get, m'lord." She cast Nicola a surprisingly tender smile. "I'll not be tossing ye out, m'lovey. It's refreshing to see a young couple in love. Married to each other, no less."
She turned to John. "Nor will I take what is obviously the last of yer funds, though I have no doubt ye're a man of means as well as a man of honor and would repay me. It isn't yer blunt I want. My brother is a wretched scoundrel. No scruples whatsoever. I'll make him pay up."
As relief washed over her, Nicola felt herself about to turn into a watering pot. Oh, dear. She was never this weepy in all her life. Hunger and exhaustion, not to mention running for one's life, must have done this to her.
She and John followed Sammy's sister as she led the way to an elegantly appointed bedchamber that looked like heaven to her. A large, four poster bed with a red satin coverlet and a dozen pillows decorating the headboard dominated the room. A cozy settee stood in front of the hearth, and there was a small table with two cushioned chairs by the window.
Within moments, a footman came in to light a fire in the hearth. More servants entered carrying a tub and pails of heated water, scented soaps, a hairbrush, and a robe for her.
Nicola wanted to fling off her clothes and jump into the water. Her desire must have shown, for both John and Sammy's sister looked at her and laughed. "I'll leave ye in peace in a moment, lovey. Yer husband said ye enjoyed the scent of my apple tarts. My butler will bring some in along with a pot of tea for ye. It isn't the usual request. Most of my guests ask for Sammy's whisky, but I don't think it's wise for a lass in yer condition."