Highland Lover: Book 3 Scottish Knights Trilogy (18 page)

Jake whistled for Mace, and shortly afterward the oarsman, Will, and Lizzie walked off together toward the more distant cliff road, while Jake sat atop the hillock with Alyson and watched until they were out of sight.

The silence between them felt comfortable, if one could call it silence with gulls and gannets shrieking overhead, the pleasant sound of waves rolling in and out on the shore below, and the wind whistling by.

“Jake?”

“Aye,” he said, facing her.

“Why did you send them both with Lizzie? I don’t mind; I just wondered.”

“If your cousin Ivor asks me that question, I hope he just wonders, too,” he admitted. “But I could not see another course that would serve our needs.”

When her response was only a tilt of her head, inviting further explanation, he said, “We are indebted to the Metlows, and although Lizzie is a widow and not a maiden, I ken fine that her father would disapprove of sending Mace alone with her. Beyond a clachan or two, there are few people on this moor. No father would like his young daughter being alone with—”

“I see why you thought of Ivor, rather than
my
father,” she interjected dryly. “I assure you, though, Ivor does not trouble himself about me, either.”

“So you may think,” Jake said. “But when you and I met last year at MacGillivray House, that lad told me straightaway after he saw us talking together that you were betrothed and would marry in June. His meaning was clear.”

“Was it?”

“It was, aye. And although you may not have experienced his temper, I have. Sithee, we spent much time together as lads at St. Andrews. No one crossed Ivor on purpose, believe me. The man may seem perfectly pleasant one moment, but then… Well, it isn’t pleasant when he erupts.”

“So I’ve heard,” she said. “Will you
tell
him that we were alone today?”

“Not unless he asks me. I value my hide. But, what did you mean about your father? In troth, with Ivor about, I scarcely heeded Farigaig.”

“Few people do,” she said. “Before my brothers died, Father was much like my uncle Shaw MacGillivray,
dividing his time between Perth and Farigaig in the Highlands. Afterward, he seemed to die inside. My mother was always a gentle soul, who agreed with whatever he said and followed his lead in everything. After Eamon and Artan died, lacking Father’s direction, she seemed to fold inward.”

“Sakes, then who runs Farigaig’s estates? Your younger brother?”

“Nay, for Ranald prefers other pursuits. My father’s stewards look after Farigaig, which is in the hills west of Loch Ness. If we lack company at home, Ranald takes himself to visit cousins or friends.”

“Then you…?”

“Not to make a song about it, sir, but I have run the household in Perth for nearly five years. With the help of my father’s stewards, I’ve run the estates, as well.”

“I see. I expect, then, that you’ll miss your husband even more sorely.”

Amusement tinged her voice as she said, “Niall did not interest himself in such things. Recall that he served Orkney, whose affairs—or Mungo’s demands—frequently required Niall’s presence. He never asked me to go with him. And in troth, I’d have felt uncomfortable leaving my family.”

“What changed?”

“I learned about the voyage. Believing that it was my duty to know him better, I conferred with my father’s steward, who said he could see to everything whilst I was gone if I could persuade one of my aunts to manage the household. My great-aunt Beatha agreed with alacrity, as I knew she would. She had been with us since October, was in no hurry to leave, and loves to give advice. She
won’t trouble herself more than that, though, so our people will go on as they have. In troth, I was tired of them all and
did
want to know Niall better as a husband.”

Jake shuddered at the picture she’d portrayed. Shaking his head as if the motion could clear away the images she’d stirred, he said, “You reinforce my belief that life ashore is
not
the life for me. Give me the freedom of the seas over the chains of estates, households, extensive family, and the like.”

“Living on your father’s boat and at St. Andrews, then earning your knighthood, and shipboard life again… You seem to have spent most of your life with men, sir. Does that not grow tedious?”

He grinned. “Duncraig Castle and its vicinity are not bereft of womenfolk, lass. Nor am I a saint. When I want feminine company, I can find it.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she said, looking out at the sea again.

A new thought struck him. “Art worried about what I might do whilst we’re alone here? You need not be.”

“I know.”

“Still, it might be wise for us to walk,” he said. “I want to look at that trail down to the beach, because it will be dark when the
Sea Wolf
comes in.”

“Surely, we’ll light torches.”

“I’d liefer draw no attention,” he said, extending a hand.

Accepting it, she let him help her to her feet but withdrew her hand from his when she was upright.

Sensing that she remained uneasy, he waited until they reached the top of the path to the shore before he said, “What were you thinking about earlier, whilst I was talking with Will… before he and Mace left with Lizzie?”

Gazing at the wide, curving bay below, she said almost casually, “You must have seen that I was talking with her.”

“What I saw,” he said bluntly, “was Lizzie talking and then looking quizzical and
not
talking, just watching a companion who’d clearly stopped listening to her.”

“I fell into a reverie, aye, but Lizzie said she understood,” Alyson said. “Sithee, since her mother told her that Niall is dead, Lizzie thinks my feelings must match her own from last year when her Jeb died.”

“Do you fear they won’t if Niall
is
dead?”

She looked at him, clearly startled. A frown wrinkled the skin between her eyebrows. “I don’t know what I’ll feel,” she said. “I cannot know that until someone reports his death or his capture.”

“But…?” He let the single word drift as he led the way down the path.

“Niall
is
my husband,” she said as she followed. “I cannot help but think that since I saw Eamon’s death and Artan’s—aye,
and
Davy Stewart’s—I must surely have seen Niall’s
if
he were truly dead.”

Jake said over his shoulder, “But you said the Sight does not follow rules, did you not?”

“I don’t think I said it exactly that way, but it does not follow a set pattern.”

He sensed that she did not want to talk about her gift just then, and he was as sure as he could be that she would not welcome a suggestion that such feelings were usually false. So he fell silent, wondering if she’d offer another topic for discussion.

Instead, a warning rattle of rocks made him turn just as she slipped, tried to catch herself, and stumbled toward him.

Catching her at the waist, holding her steady, and looking into her eyes as he did, he felt an immediate, overwhelming urge to kiss her.

Her hands clamped tightly to his upper arms, and she pushed herself away.

Primal instinct urged him to pull her back.

His good sense, sadly, warned him to do no such thing.

Chapter 9

N
erves atingle, Alyson stared into Jake’s face, trying to read his expression but aware only of the sensations raging through her body. She had felt that odd tingle again earlier, the moment his hand touched hers to help her to her feet.

When she slipped, she’d tried to catch herself. But her other foot clipped a rock as she shifted it to stop her slide, and she had flown right into Jake’s arms.

The path was steep enough to be dangerous to anyone who stumbled. Her first thought had been that she might take them both down when she crashed into Jake, but he’d reacted so swiftly that he had easily stopped her fall.

She had never expected the slight tingle she felt each time he touched her, or brushed against her as they passed, to turn so suddenly into a full-blown nerve storm.

But when he caught and held her as he did, that is exactly what happened.

Her impulsive reaction had been to shove herself away as if she had got too close to a fire that might consume her.

Briefly, she had seen a hungry look in his eyes that she had seen before in other men’s eyes. Such men were usually strangers who had either not bothered to request
proper introduction to her or had simply forgotten themselves. That look at such times had felt intrusive, even intimidating, and most discomfiting.

Once such a man had irritated her throughout an evening at a cousin’s house, despite Niall’s presence, until her brother Eamon had spoken to the man. The man had gone away then, and Eamon had said curtly that Niall was a fool.

In fairness to Niall, and because she’d had little reason to expect anyone to intervene, she had not mentioned her irritation. Thinking back now, she doubted that Niall would have done more than tell her to avoid the man. Niall was never eager to confront other men, but she had welcomed his gentleness then.

She and Jake reached the shore without further incident. When he suggested that they walk along the shingle to make sure there were suitable places for his men to beach their towboat, she readily agreed.

He said, “We can beach the
Sea Wolf
if it becomes necessary. I’d liefer not do that, though, because we’d have to await the incoming tide to row her out again. Our wee towboat will take the four of us easily.”

Feeling a shiver of unease, she said, “How wee is it?”

“We’ll be safe,” he assured her. “I’d not let it come in otherwise.” Looking skyward, he added, “The wind is easing.”

They chatted on companionably about many topics until he said they should return to the clifftop to meet Mace and Will.

“We’ll build a fire up there, so Coll will know where we are,” he added.

“Why don’t we just build it down here?”

“People seeing us on the cliff with a small fire will
think nowt of it, lass. The evening is warmer than recent ones have been and may draw others to the cliffs or the shore. They’d notice us on the beach, especially if we stayed after dark and put out our fire without igniting torches to light our way back up. I’d liefer no one wonder about us before we’re safely away from here.”

“But if we don’t light torches, won’t that path be dangerous?”

“We’ll have to be careful, but I won’t let you fall.”

She did not argue, and when she wondered at her easy acceptance, she realized that she trusted him as if she’d known him much longer than two days.

Soon after their return to the clifftop, Mace and Will arrived and reported seeing Lizzie safely into the arms of her aunt and uncle.

“Kind people they are, sir,” Mace said. “They would have it that we should stay the night.” Handing Jake a cloth sack, he added, “I said we had tae meet our lads, so Mistress Thornwick’s aunt sent food for us.” Having delivered his message, he stretched out on the wind-and-sun-dried ground, clasped his hands under his head, and shut his eyes.

Will, watching him, mimicked Mace’s actions.

Chuckling, Jake said, “If you mean to nap, lad, pull your cap over your face or the sun will burn it summat wicked even on a cool day like this.”

“If we all sleep,” Will murmured, “who will watch for the
Sea Wolf
?”

“Don’t you worry,” Jake said. “I’ll know when my lads arrive.”

Although Alyson had seen no sign of a ship or a boat, Jake stood abruptly soon after dark and said, “She’s coming.” She still saw and heard nothing.

Nevertheless Jake doused their fire, woke Will and Mace, and urged them all toward the path.

Shortly after reaching the shore, she heard the creak of oars. Moments later, two oarsmen beached Jake’s boat. It had two sets of oars and no sail.

When Alyson saw how small it was, dread swept over her. She trusted Jake, but shaking now, she realized with shock that she did not trust the sea. It had nearly swallowed her before. She couldn’t…

“I… I can’t do this,” she said gruffly. “The sea… I thought I could—”

“You can,” Jake said. “I’m with you now, lass. I won’t let the sea have you. My lads are expert oarsmen, and although Mace is a good man at the tiller, I’ll take it myself. You and Will can sit right beside me if you like, or hunker down low in front of me as you did in the
Maryenknyght
’s coble. Mace and the oarsmen will easily balance our combined weight in the stern with their own.”