Seduced by the Highlander (19 page)

It was all part of the disguise—to prevent her from looking like an heiress—but he wasn’t sure how much good it would do. She was still breathtakingly beautiful. All the men, including the great Lion himself, went speechless for a moment while she stood before them in the doorway.

Lachlan approached her. “Good morning, Lady Catherine.” He respectfully offered his arm.

Her expression warmed at the sight of the same chestnut gelding he had purchased for her at the inn where they spent their first night.

Patting Theodore’s nose, she whispered, “We meet again.” She ran her gloved hands down the smoothly muscled length of his neck. “Well groomed, I see.” She stroked his shining mane, and he responded by nuzzling her ear.

One of the stable hands hurried forth to hold Theodore steady while she mounted and settled her pretty bottom into the saddle.

“Well, gentlemen? I am ready to depart. Shall we venture onward?”

Lachlan looked up at her, sitting proudly and cheerfully in the saddle while she looked down at all of them with a charming enthusiasm that sparked around him like fireworks.

After a decade of seducing countless, nameless women who wanted nothing more from him than a quick tumble in a haystack—and never once becoming besotted with a single one of them—this feeling in his gut plagued him. His desire for Catherine was insatiable, and it was dangerously distracting.

But somehow,
somehow
, he had to find a way to accept that he could not have her. He certainly could not make love to her, and he didn’t think he could manage all the other things without it eventually coming to that. Which created a problem. For although he was a renowned Scottish warrior who faced death and doom without hesitation on the battlefield, he did not know if he was strong enough, or brave enough, to resist the tempting allure of Lady Catherine Montgomery.

Clearly, she was the greatest challenge of his life.

He had never wanted her more.

Chapter Twenty-one

The first full day of travel passed quickly, the moments weaving together into an impressive tapestry of changing landscapes, which were as beautiful and moving to Catherine as any grand opera or priceless work of art.

Earlier in the morning, when the cool Highland mist hung low over the dewy grass in the meadows, they had trotted across the castle bridge, galloped over the field toward the east, and slipped gingerly into the cover of the forest, where autumn leaves detached themselves from the treetops and floated lightly to the ground all around them.

Alexander, the youngest clansman and closest to Catherine’s age, had ridden ahead to scout out their route, and returned after an hour to discuss the best options with Lachlan, who rode several yards in front of Catherine.

The other three Scots rode behind her, and though there was no one to talk to, she could not complain of boredom—at least not yet—for the journey itself was enough of a challenge and distraction to keep her mind occupied.

Late in the afternoon, they were forced to cross a fast-moving river, and Catherine had to coax and wheedle Theodore down the slick muddy slope to reach the water. They slipped and skidded at the bottom, and together plunged into the icy river with a heavy, shocking splash that pulled a gasp from her throat.

Theodore kept his footing over the slippery rocks below the surface while the cold water swirled around them and penetrated Catherine’s skirts to the tops of her thighs. At least the sound of the rushing water drowned out Theo’s panicked whinnies.

When they reached the other side and galloped up the bank, she ran her hand down his russet neck, gentling him. “Well done,” she said. Her own heart was racing, and she was relieved to have made it across.

She looked up then, to find Lachlan watching her intently.

“Are you all right?” he asked, waiting for her just ahead in a grove of junipers.

“We’re fine.” She urged Theodore into a light canter and rode past Lachlan, to lead the way. He soon caught up with her and trotted alongside.

“Do you know which way we should be going, lassie?” he asked.

“I haven’t a clue,” she confessed, “but I am confident that you will rein me back in if I lead us astray.”

He glanced over his shoulder to check on the others, who were out of sight, though Catherine could hear them shouting as they crossed the river.

“We shouldn’t ride together,” Lachlan said. “The others will be watching us, and they will soon suspect something. They will see what is obvious and know that I have taken certain liberties with you, which I had no right to take. We must guard your reputation from this moment on.”

Catherine’s mood dipped sharply at his sudden penchant for propriety. “I told you last night that my reputation is already in ruins. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“But I have no right to your affections, lass. Nothing can happen between us, and you know that.”

Her temper flared unexpectedly, for she had been waiting so long just to be with him. She had hoped to secretly flirt during the journey, perhaps sneak off and be alone. She’d dreamed of being kissed in the moonlight, like she was kissed in the stable the night before. She had thought of little else since the moment he left her in the feasting hall, but now his words wounded her. She wanted to shout at him but somehow managed to keep her voice steady.

“Why would you say such a thing? You have every right to my affections, if I wish to bestow them upon you.”

“But you should
not
wish to. That is the point. It’s not wise.” He lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder again. “I will not lie to you, Catherine. You know I desire you, but Angus was right to send the others with us. They will keep me in my place.”

“Is it because of the curse?” she asked. “Because soon we will reach Raonaid, and I will do whatever it takes to convince her to set you free.”

He shook his head. “It’s not just that. It’s
everything
. I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. I shouldn’t have come to your bed yesterday. All of that was wrong. It will only make things more difficult.”

A frosty chill hung on the edge of his words, and she reacted with anger at the rejection. “What things? You talk about it as if it is all about you, and
your
choices. Do I not have any say in this?”

His dark eyes bored into hers. “You can say whatever you like, lass, but it will not change the fact that we cannot be…” He stopped. “I cannot be anything to you, other than your escort to Edinburgh, and eventually back to Drumloch.”

“What if I don’t
want
to go back?” she blurted out in a sudden flash of anger.

Something wild blazed in his expression, as if he was tempted in that instant to steal her away forever, to throw her over the back of his warhorse and gallop off into parts unknown.

But then his eyes turned cold again and he kicked in his heels. “Then I’d think you were very foolish.”

He took off in a quick gallop, then slowed to a walk just ahead, leaving her behind to ride alone.

Catherine sucked in a breath and fought to crush the heavy aching sensation inside her heart. This was not fair. None of it. She didn’t care that she was a nobleman’s daughter with a sizable inheritance. She didn’t want the money or the jewels or the gowns or anything else that came with her privileged social position. All she wanted was to be a normal person, to remember her life, to perhaps know the sister who had been torn from her at birth. She wanted to love whomever she wished to love. And she wanted to help Lachlan rid himself of that wretched curse that was keeping him from her.

Perhaps her twin would be able to help her with a few of those things.

She wondered uneasily how Raonaid would react to seeing her own mirror image for the first time.

Did she even know she had a sister? And would she be welcoming?

*   *   *

“Would you like to stop for the night, Lady Catherine?”

Catherine started at the appearance of Alexander MacEwen, the young scout, who trotted up beside her when she had been, quite frankly, in danger of drifting off to sleep and toppling off her horse onto the grassy moor. They had been riding for many hours, and her muscles were aching. She felt clammy all over.

Shaking herself awake, she strove to smile. “I beg your pardon, Alex. I did not hear you approach. I suppose that means I am in need of a respite. Perhaps it would be prudent to stop. I’m sure the horses could use the rest as well.”

“I’ll ride ahead and speak to Lachlan,” he replied.

Catherine shifted uncomfortably in the saddle while he galloped off. He spoke to Lachlan briefly, then wheeled his horse around and galloped back.

“I know a cave not far from here,” he explained as he slowed his horse to walk beside her again. “Lachlan is familiar with it. We’ll stop there for the night, and Gawyn will cook us a hot meal.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She was eager to stretch her legs and feed her groaning belly.

She and the young Highlander rode in silence for a few minutes across the wide moor, flanked on both sides by grassy mountains. A wolf howled somewhere in the distance.

“How is it that you know this country so well?” she asked Alexander.

“I used to hunt a fair bit with my father, and I did some scouting during the uprising. I learned quickly how to avoid the redcoats and get from one place to another without being seen. I found all the best places to hide away for a night or two.”

She studied his profile in the dusky light. He was a handsome young man, slender, with a clean face and strong-looking hands. His hair was shiny and brown and cropped short, unlike most of the other clansmen, who wore bushy beards and unkempt hair.

“I see why Angus sent you along with us,” she said. “You seem very capable.”

He surveyed the moor judiciously. “I’d do anything for the great Scottish Lion. He’s a good husband to my cousin, and he’s a fair chief to the MacEwens.”

“And what about Lachlan?” she boldly asked. “What do you know of him?”

Alexander glanced the other way when he spoke. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about him, my lady, other than the gossip I’ve heard.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs. “And what, exactly, have you heard?”

“That he’s a highly skilled warrior and very brave,” Alex quickly replied. “But he also has a reputation with the lassies. I’m told they all swoon when he walks into a room. I’ve also heard there’s some sort of curse that keeps him from taking a wife.” He awkwardly cleared his throat and shrugged. “But what do I know of it? I only met him for the first time this morning. He seems like a decent enough fellow. Angus is loyal to him, and that’s good enough for me.” He glanced at her curiously. “What about you, Lady Catherine? I understand you have no memory of your life. That cannot be easy. It’s no wonder you are out here, searching.”

“Searching.”
She inhaled deeply and looked up at the dusky sky. “Yes, that is exactly what I am doing. I continue to hope that something will happen that will spark a memory. Without any recollection of the things I have seen and done, my life seems rather meaningless.”

He spoke with a kindness that touched her heart. “I am sure your memories will come back to you, my lady. I often forget things,” he added, “and then one day, somehow as if by magic, I remember. You just have to relax, and try not to force it.”

He turned in the saddle and whistled to the other Highlanders who were following at a short distance. They urged their horses into a canter.

“I’m going to ride ahead with Gawyn,” he told her, “and set up camp. The others will see you there safely.”

“Thank you, Alex.”

He galloped off, but she did not watch him ride. Instead, she squinted through the pink twilight, wondering if Lachlan would share a private moment with her later, as Alex just had.

*   *   *

They ate supper in a small cave beneath a rocky outcropping, all sitting around the fire on beds of fur that covered the cold, earthen floor, and would later provide a soft place to sleep for Lady Catherine.

Lachlan announced that the clansmen would sleep just outside, guarding the entrance, but when he spoke the words, he experienced an ache of discomfort at the thought of Catherine sleeping alone in this cold hole in the mountain while he was outside, also sleeping alone.

Well, not alone exactly. With the others. But they were invisible to him. Everyone and everything was invisible when Catherine was near.

He hated the fact that they had argued that day. Hated that she was so lovely in the firelight and was glancing at him frequently, but looking away whenever their eyes met.

She was punishing him, he knew, for how he had pushed her away after the river crossing. But what else could he do? Treat her the way he treated other women? Smile and flirt, and flatter her?

God help him, he couldn’t even look at her without wanting to hold her.

Everyone sat down to eat, and he was pleased at least that Gawyn MacLean had put together such a tasty meat stew, which he’d boiled in an iron pot over the fire and served with crusty rye bread and a full-bodied wine in fine pewter goblets. Lachlan would have to thank Angus for sending such a functional fellow.

He would not thank him, however, for sending Alexander, for the lad had pushed his way into the circle to sit beside Catherine on the fur, and now they were eating their suppers together, laughing and engaging in light conversation while the others looked on and listened.

Alexander told her, in painful detail, about his schooling in Glasgow, and now he was asking her questions about her own upbringing, trying to help her remember things.

He was too polite. And helpful. And wholesome looking.

Lachlan didn’t like him.

Catherine, on the other hand, seemed to have taken a fancy to him. They had ridden together across the moor for near a quarter of an hour that evening.

Ach!
Lachlan tossed his plate aside, for he had suddenly lost his appetite. He had made a noble effort that afternoon to do the right thing and put some distance between them, and the very next minute this boyish upstart was slinking up beside her, working a little too hard to charm and impress.