Highland Rake (16 page)

He smiled, more at himself for his own folly, and at her brother, for being a rake like him and knowing just what Dougald had been thinking. The lass may not have ever considered his wayward thoughts if it hadn't been for her brother, Dougald believed.

"What has your brother said?" Dougald asked as he concentrated on his boar broth, hoping he could get his other thoughts under control and his staff to settle down before he had to leave.

When she didn't speak, he glanced back at her. She was now sitting on that bed as if she couldn't stand upright any long. She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms defensively beneath her breasts. "He says, being the rake that you are, I shouldna sit close to you or touch you in any manner. That you will have illicit thoughts about me like any other man who is just the same as you."

"'Tis true," Dougald said and watched as her lips parted as if she was surprised he'd admit to the condemnation. There was no sense in denying it. Her touch and sitting close to her
had
provoked illicit thoughts even if he hadn't wanted them. But he had to admit, he had wanted them, had craved sitting beside her, having her touch him freely when he had not solicited it.

And wanted much more.

"But 'tis also true I wouldna act on such desire." He watched her, waited for her to turn and hear what her brother had to say about the matter, and then direct her attention back to Dougald.

"You know, 'tis hard to defend myself when I have no idea what your brother is saying to you," Dougald said, never believing he would be having a three-way conversation where he could neither hear one of the parties speaking nor see him.

She took a deep breath. "He says he believes you are honorable, as long as I keep my distance. And that you continue eating with the intention of leaving soon. Keeping your mind occupied so that these other notions of yours will fade away should work."

He smiled then. These other notions of his were
not
fading away. Not when she was sitting on the bed, or when she stood next to him, or he held her in his arms.

He continued to eat.
Slowly.

"He says he has never seen a man eat so slowly in his life," Alana said.

Dougald chuckled. "If the roles were reversed and he was here instead of me, and you were a lovely lass that he…" What would he say next? That he lusted after? He quickly quit speaking before he got himself into a worse quagmire.

"What?" she prompted. Then she said, "Quit laughing, Connell! I dinna see what is so funny."

Dougald smiled into his broth. As much as her brother could be annoying, he rather liked the man.

He finished as much as he could eat and turned to speak with Alana. She was watching him as if she was afraid he had the notion of ravishing her. "I will leave the rest for you, my lady, should you decide that you are still hungry."

He rose from his chair and noted her gaze immediately descended to take a gander at his plaid, but the part of his anatomy that had not been behaving was now quite mannerly,
finally
. He smiled at her, then said, "I will check on you later."

And then he took his leave before he did anything he regretted. Like…kissed her.

As soon as he was out the door and had shut and locked it, he heard Alana say, "Go away. He is gone now. Leave me be."

Dougald thought the lass sounded as though she had some regret that he had left her alone and at that thought—though it should not have pleased him—he felt lighter hearted than he had when he had at first entered her chamber, still worried about her father's murder and her brother's as well.

***

Early the next morn, they travelled again as the rains had subsided, though it was chilly today, the winds blowing cold and the gray clouds still hovering low in the sky. Alana was trying not to shiver overmuch, hoping the day would soon warm up the later the hour.

A short while after they had begun their journey, they saw many riders approach, and she stiffened.

The men in the lead of Dougald's party hollered, "They are our men!"

"James sent them," Dougald said, glancing her way. He looked as though he was judging her reaction, to see if it would upset her that her own people had not come to rescue her.

She sagged a little, though she was so cold, she was having a difficult time relaxing much. And then wondered why she should? Because she didn't want a fight between her uncle's men and Dougald's. That's why.

Dougald's men all gave the impression they were a bunch of owls, casting looks back her way, glancing at Dougald, grinning, then talking amongst themselves. A few rode past them to follow them, others flanking them.

"They act like a bunch of gossiping women," Alana said, more to herself than anyone.

Dougald smiled. "At first I was surprised to see James had sent such a large force of men. Either he worried your uncle was coming for you, or more of our men came to see the Cameron's niece."

She gave a little harrumph. "'Tis more likely he worried he might lose a brother if a battle had occurred."

Dougald laughed out loud at that.

She frowned at him. "You dinna think your brother would worry about you?"

"Oh, aye, lass, but he would never have sent
this
many men."

"Oh." What did she know about men and fighting battles?

Later that day after warming by a fire, eating and then going on their way again, they found the weather had not improved. The wind blew just as cold, the rain threatening again when a lone rider approached the front of the formation. He greeted some of the men, who motioned to the middle of the party, indicating that was where Dougald was. As the rider drew closer, she recognized him as one of the men Dougald had sent in search of Rob MacNeill. If he was looking for Dougald now, he had to have news. Since the rider was alone, she could only guess what that meant. The others were taking Rob MacNeill and his niece to see James. Or they hadn't found the man and were still looking for him.

Dougald rode out to meet the man, keeping her from hearing the truth. She scowled at the two of them as Angus and Gunnolf kept her moving in the direction of Craigly Castle and away from Dougald and the messenger.

She wanted to listen in on the conversation as if it pertained to her, which it most likely did. They stopped speaking and both looked at her, then Dougald nodded at the man, and he joined some others leading her escort.

When Dougald rejoined her, he didn't say a word. She could tell from the way he was looking straight ahead, brow furrowed, he was pondering the matter before he spoke, which again made her believe he was a cautious man, not one prone to saying whatever was on his mind before he had thought the matter through.

Well, she wasn't about to let him think about it any further without telling her what he'd learned. "Did they find Rob MacNill, or no'?" she asked, in a less than sweet and innocent way. But her sharp tone did get Dougald's attention.

A couple of the men in front glanced back to smile at her and to see Dougald's reaction.

She got practically everyone's attention, in fact, some looking a little surprised but then the smiles began to creep across their faces. All except for Dougald's. He probably wasn't used to a woman demanding that he tell her of some news, particularly when she was from the enemy clan.

"One Rob MacNeill they located was gray-bearded," Dougald finally said. "His wife said he would never think of straying. So they discounted him. Furthermore, he had no niece. He also had a lad of ten by the name of Rob."

"That was all? You said there were at least a handful. Or mayhap 'twas your cousin who had said so."

"None who live near the border, lass. There was another. He is three and thirty and has no kin. His wife and bairn died some years earlier. But my men couldna locate him. The other men are still searching for him."

That gave her hope that Odara had not lied to her. "He abandoned his sheep and his croft and went into hiding?"

"Nay, lass. 'Tis just that he wasna home. He may have been visiting a neighbor—"

"Like Odara?"

"'Tis possible." Dougald didn't say anything about the fact that Odara had been with Gilleasbuig, and Alana was grateful for that.

She glanced at Gunnolf. "You said you knew the man who was with Odara wasna Rob MacNeill. Yet you went to speak to the shepherdess to learn what he looked like. How do you know he wasna Rob MacNeill if you didna know what he looked like?"

"He said he was Gilleasbuig. I took the man at his word," Gunnolf said.

Frustrated that the Norseman hadn't known what either man looked like and couldn't be completely sure he was Gilleasbuig, Alana let out her breath and rode in silence for some time. Then she thought even if he did not know what Gilleasbuig looked like,
she
did. She turned sharply to speak with Gunnolf again. "What did the man look like?"

"He was a burly man, nearly as tall as me."

That could describe Gilleasbuig or any number of men. The Highlanders were tall men, and well built. "The color of his hair?" she asked.

"Dark brown, nearly black."

"Aye. And the color of his eyes?" She was losing hope it was someone named Rob MacNeill.

"Brown, pale, not as dark as Dougald's."

Alana opened her mouth to speak to Gunnolf but Connell appeared between her and Gunnolf. "Gilleasbuig has blue eyes," her brother said to her. As if she didn't know!

She wanted to tell her brother to move out of her way so she could continue to question Gunnolf. She sighed. Though she still couldn't see Gunnolf because of her pesky brother being in the way, she said to Gunnolf, trying to pretend her brother was not staring at her, waiting for her to speak as if she was talking to him, "He has blue eyes, no' brown."

"Are you certain?" Dougald asked, drawing her attention.

"Aye. Gray-blue, if you must know." She again turned to Gunnolf—or her brother as he was still between her and the Norseman. "Does he have a scar on his face?"

"No, but he does have a broken nose." Gunnolf sounded pleased with himself for having given the man the break in his nose.

Alana clamped her mouth shut. What if the man in bed with Odara had truly been her lover, Rob MacNeill? But had been afraid to reveal such? She tried to remember anything else about Gilleasbuig. "Was the man hairy?"

That got a couple of hearty chuckles from the men riding ahead of them. Dougald was staring at her as if he couldn't believe she'd know such a thing.

Her whole body heated. Dougald was probably wondering
why
she would know that Gilleasbuig was hairy. She would never have spoken of the matter if she hadn't thought revealing such a thing might give them a clearer picture as to who the man was.

"How would you know that?" her bother asked, glowering at her. Or maybe he was worried the man had tried to molest her or some such thing, and he meant to glower at Gilleasbuig if he had been here.

Without thinking, she snapped at her brother, "He was injured, for heaven's sakes!"

Alana wondered what Gunnolf would think of her irritated reaction to her brother when it would appear she was reacting to Gunnolf. She couldn't see around her brother and had no idea what Gunnolf was doing right now. Looking straight ahead? Watching her? Smiling? Scowling?

Beyond her brother, she heard Gunnolf say, "He wasna…overly…hairy, to my way of thinking, my lady." His tone was decidedly amused, and she knew she should have let the matter rest.

A few chuckles erupted, and she was certain the men within hearing distance were highly entertained with the direction the inquisition had taken.

"So," Dougald said, proceeding with caution, "you know this Gilleasbuig well."

She looked at him then, wondering if he thought
she
had some romantic notions concerning the hairy beast! Mayhap that she was upset that Odara had been in bed with the man, and that the shepherdess had been trying to cover up the fact because Alana loved him and would be upset with the man?

God's teeth, what a horrid thought!

She frowned at Dougald. "I dinna know what you mean."

"You know him well enough that you would be able to identify him."

"Of course. Aye." Wasn't that what she'd been saying all along?

"Did he have a hairy back as well as a chest?"

Not wanting to say aloud all that she was thinking of the matter, she felt her whole face heat. He had a very small staff and a hairy arse also. She had seen this as the men had hastily stripped him of his blood-soaked clothes so they could turn him on his side, and she could proceed with stitching him up.

"Not all men do, lass," Dougald prompted.

She had not seen Dougald's back and now she wondered was he hairy or not? His chest was only lightly furred, trailing down to his staff that had grown as she'd watched, before she swung away and had headed back down the hill, intrigued and mortified at the same time.

Her face had to be flaming red now.

"This man's back was as smooth as a bairn's…," Gunnolf said, pausing to finish what he was going to say.