In Bed With A Stranger(9)

Stiffening her resolve, Anne didn't look back. Instead she looked  straight at the wide back of the man she had to outwit. Where there was a  will, there was a way.

That was the only thing she had time to think about. Bonnie's dream would have to pass away this time.

She would make it so



There were not enough saints.

Anne gripped the saddle horn tighter, lamenting the lack of heavenly  ears to lay her pleas on. Considering her plight, she needed more holy  patrons to intercede on her behalf. Her gaze wandered over the shoulders  of the earl. He was so powerfully built, she might not have believed it  without seeing it herself. She wasn't even sure that it was natural for  men to grow so broad.

Yet he appeared in harmony with the huge steed beneath him. Confidence  radiated from the pair as firm hands held onto the reins. He clasped the  sides of the animal with his thick legs, his back remaining straight as  the horse climbed the steep trail.

Keeping this man at arm's length was going to prove a challenge. To his way of thinking, she was his wife.

Yes, many more saints.

Anne frowned. Praying was all well and good but she needed a firm plan  if she was going to give her father time to discover her plight. Her  belly grumbled as her horse was tugged further along the trail.  Warwickshire Castle grew smaller as the sun moved over them in an arc  toward the west. The corset dug into her hip where it was too long.  Shifting about only moved the pain from spot to spot until her entire  side throbbed. She tried to keep her motions small or at least to mask  them by adjusting her seat when the horse moved. Every man accompanying  the earl found a reason to look her way. They were clever about how they  did it, looking over the trail beyond her or inspecting their dirks  sheathed in the top of a boot.         

     



 

Their curious eyes found a reason to look her way.

Yet she was as drawn to them as well. Their bare knees mystified her.  Warwickshire was on the borderlands and considered chilly by English  standards. The last pair of English knees she'd seen outside the bathing  room were on one of the young groomsmen in the stable, who was still  more of a boy and prone to forgetting to dress appropriately. Every man  with her now didn't even have their doublets closed. The edges of the  leather flapped open, allowing the afternoon air to ruffle the linen of  their shirts. The protective sleeves attached to those doublets were  tied behind their backs, obviously unneeded to ward off the chill. She  shivered just looking at their bare collarbones.

But none of them looked cold. That drew her attention. Each man seemed  at ease, most of them eager to be heading home. Their mounts took to the  rocky trail expertly. Each horse confident as it picked its way. Not  that she might blame them for being jovial. Knowing that you were  returning home must be a wonderful feeling.

One she wished she knew. Envy took root in her chest. She hadn't even been allowed to bid farewell to her family.

She resisted the urge to look behind her. Gazing on Warwickshire so far  in the distance just might be more than her composure could bear. At  least she might keep herself from tears. Crying would be useless. She  had so often considered Lady Mary to be weak for all her sobbing. That  doubled her resolve to remain calm as the day drew longer. The earl only  drew his men to a halt twice. Both times he did it near a river so that  the horses might drink.

Her feet were asleep and dismounting sent prickles of pain up her numb  legs. She had never sat on a horse so long. There had never been any  need to. Horses were expensive and they generated further cost in  stables and feed. Besides, her life had been Warwickshire. The villages  and the castle proper. Her feet served her well enough for traveling  between them. She didn't earn enough in an entire year to even buy a  horse as fine as the one she was riding today. Giving the mare a pat,  Anne smoothed her fingers over its shiny coat.

"She's a fine animal, to be sure." Turning her head, Anne found one of  the McJames' retainers a few feet behind her. He studied her with eyes  the same shade as a summer sky. He was fair-haired as well; quite the  opposite of the earl.

"Indeed, she is very beautiful."

He lifted a hand to firmly pat the horse on its hindquarter. "Strong. That's what matters."

Releasing the reins, Anne let the mare have her freedom. With a soft  nicker, the mare followed the other horses toward the edge of the river.

"My brother bred her from his own stock. McJames' horses are the best in Scotland."

"I can see that."

The Scot peered at her trying to see past her face veil. When she didn't  lift it, his gaze slid down her frame, inspecting her exactly as he had  the mare.

"I thought English ladies wore gloves to keep their hands soft."

Anne was grateful for her veil because it hid the sudden widening of her eyes. She curled her frozen fingers into fists.

"I forgot them this morning." She cringed because she made yet another  error. As a lady, her maid should have seen to the task of fetching her  gloves. "When you were spotted approaching, I became flustered."

A grin appeared on the Scot. "Now don't go telling my brother that. His  ego disnae need any stroking." He actually winked at her. The playful  expression stunned her because she'd never quite pictured Scotsmen  relaxed.

"Well then, you'd better take care of your needs before we mount up  again." He pointed to a large outcropping of boulders and her face  burned scarlet.

"Yes, thank you." Her voice squeaked as her blush deepened. She felt  like every pair of eyes was focused on her as she walked toward the  rocks. Returning took a great deal of discipline as she ordered herself  to stop being so childish. The body had needs; it was no reason for  blushing.

More of the men were turned her way now, studying her as she drew closer  to the water. The earl was already back on his steed, watching them  from several feet above. He scanned the horizon, his face set in hard  lines. He wasn't relaxed or jovial. Solid determination radiated from  him as he swept the entire surrounding area before letting his gaze  settle on her.         

     



 

Her cheeks warmed again, the tiny response tingling as it went through  her flesh. She worried her lower lip as she found herself staring back  at him, unable to break the connection. He actually frowned before  looking away. Her pride bristled, the hot stain on her cheeks annoying.

How could she blush for him?

And why did he find her unpleasing?

Her anger stunned her, numbing her mind as she tried to decide why she  cared what the man thought of her. If he found her ugly, all the better.  It would certainly make avoiding the bedding easier.

Yet she could not deny the surge of disappointment that went through  her. It was as real as the kilt-wearing men near her. Quite unexpected  but still a firm reality.

"The two of you will just have to wait."

There was a male chuckle as the earl's brother returned leading her  mare. He smirked at her while offering her a hand to mount. Anne reached  for the saddle horn instead, lodging one foot in the stirrup and  pushing her body up into the air on her own.

Humph, she'd be very well and good on her own.

"Well now, I've never seen an English lady who could do that. Maybe my brother made a better choice than he thinks."

Looking down at the Scot, Anne was tempted to flip her veil back so that  he might see the frown she was aiming at him. It was another impulse,  one that was very hard to resist. She found the man grinning from ear to  ear, his sky blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Her anger fled as she  noted how much he reminded her of Bonnie.

"You know a great deal about English women, do you?"

His lips lowered into a pensive line. "I've attended yer queen's court  with my brother, so aye, I know a wee bit." His eyes flickered with  something that looked like distrust. "Ye're not exactly what I expected  when my brother told me we were off to fetch ye home."

He looked at her with a critical eye that made her wonder just what she was lacking in his opinion.

"As we are strangers, I declined to form any opinions of you or your brother before I met you both."

One of his eyebrows rose. A soft scoff pasted his lips and his eyes glittered with amusement.

"Och well, there's a tone I recall well. Ye English lasses must be  descended from Valkyries because ye have the north wind living inside  ye. Icy as snow ye are when ye're of the mind to freeze a man with your  words."

Anne bit back an apology. Philipa's words rose above her impulse.  Becoming too familiar with any of these men was unwise considering the  precarious position of her family. Still, she was not the one casting  rude comments about. No matter the situation, she was not weak willed.

"My name is Cullen." He offered her a folded cloth. "Here's something to  eat. It's a two-day ride to Sterling castle. Ye'll need yer strength."

"Thank you." Her voice was low as she took the offering. Cullen hooked a  leather cord attached to a full wine skin over the saddle horn. Her  cheeks heated again, this time in shame for being so outspoken. She  shouldn't allow Philipa to turn her into a bitter-hearted person. But  she held her comments, sealing them behind her lips for fear of what  might yet happen to her family. She had to play her role, at least until  her sire discovered her plight.