Seduced by the Highlander (23 page)

She reached the coach at last and pounded her fist on the door. Murdoch came up behind her and tore it open. It swung on its hinges and banged against the outside wall.

Raonaid tossed her empty basket into the coach, grabbed hold of the rail, and hoisted herself into the dry interior, sheltered at last from the wind. She sat down and wiped the water from her cheeks while Murdoch climbed in and sat across from her.

They stared at each other tensely. His dark eyes studied her with displeasure, but she would not tell him of her vision. He could never know the truth—that what she had seen was Lachlan MacDonald, his enemy as well as her own, making love to her while she cried out with boundless rapture.

*   *   *

Catherine woke to the sound of water dripping with heavy wet plops onto the roof of the tent. Drawing the woolen blanket over her shoulders, she rose and padded to the flap to look outside, hoping that the weather would not slow their journey, for she was impatient to reach Edinburgh and meet her sister.

She untied the ribbons of the tent flap and scrutinized the morning rain. A light mist rolled smoothly along the mossy floor of the glade. Everything was shiny and dripping wet, but at least it was not a torrential downpour. Not yet, at any rate. It was a soft, gentle rain—not nearly enough to deter Catherine from venturing onward.

Voices and footsteps interrupted the tranquility. It was Lachlan and the cook, Gawyn, their tartans pulled over their heads to keep dry.

“Ah, look,” Gawyn said cheerfully. “Her Ladyship has awakened. Did you sleep well enough?”

She and Lachlan shared no more than a passing glance as he led her horse closer to the tent and tethered him to a nearby branch. In that brief moment, however, she saw in Lachlan’s eyes a secret desire and her heart fluttered with anticipation.

“Will we travel regardless of the rain?” she asked, making a deliberate effort to speak with casual indifference while hiding her impetuous urge to pull Lachlan back into the tent and repeat every delicious intimacy they had shared the night before.

“Aye,” Lachlan replied, without looking at her. “So you best get yourself up and ready, my lady, or you’ll soon feel the poles of that tent coming down on your head.”

Gawyn’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “He’s just havin’ you on, Lady Catherine. He wouldn’t really do it, would you, Lachlan?”

He shrugged, as if to say,
Why not?

Taking him quite seriously, Catherine retreated into her temporary abode and dressed for the day ahead.

Within the hour, they were trotting away from the beach and riding through the forest, where the tall evergreens provided at least some shelter from the rain. Lachlan and Roderick rode out front to lead the way while Gawyn, Rodney, and Alex followed behind Catherine in a single column.

They rode in silence for most of the morning, plodding along at a slow and easy pace, until the wind picked up and Catherine began to feel a wet chill seeping through the heavy wool of her cloak.

Soon Alex trotted up beside her. “Are you warm enough, Lady Catherine?” His expression was creased with concern.

The wind howled through the treetops and blew the bottom of her cloak across her lap. “I am well enough, Alex. Do not suggest we stop on my account, for I am eager to reach the village and enjoy a hot meal and warm bed tonight. It will be a welcome luxury, to be sure.”

An awkward silence ensued while he glanced over his shoulder at the others.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked.

His cheeks flushed bright red, but not from the cold. “I fear it is not my place to speak of such things, my lady—but I hold you in the highest regard, and for that reason, I cannot hold my tongue.”

“What is it you speak of, Alex?”

He hesitated, then cleared his throat. “I know that Lachlan was with you last night, Lady Catherine. I saw him leave your tent before dawn.”

Catherine worked hard to control her anger. “You are correct in one regard, Alex. It is
not
your place to speak of such things.”

His cheeks drained of all color. “I apologize, my lady. I did not mean to offend, but you asked me to speak freely.”

She regarded him carefully for a moment, scrutinizing the purpose of his intentions. “I did,” she admitted. “Was there anything else you saw? Or perhaps heard?”

Alex flushed anew. “I heard him say that he would visit you in your chamber again tonight, when we reach the inn. I heard him say he’d scale the walls.”

Catherine fought to hold on to her composure while another part of her railed with indignation. “I must repeat myself, Alex. This is none of your business. It is a private matter between Lachlan and me.”

“I understand that, my lady,” he argued, “and I am deeply sorry, but I must speak my mind. I do not mean to intrude upon your private affairs, but I feel it is my duty to inform you that Lachlan MacDonald is not to be trusted with your heart. He has a reputation for seducing young lassies just like yourself. He makes them behave in irrational ways, and there’s a curse upon him. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Catherine squeezed the leather reins in her gloved hands. “I am not one of those foolish young girls.”

But did she truly believe that? What she felt for Lachlan was anything but rational. Whenever he touched her, she became blind to every sensible thought and precaution, and last night she would have done anything to make him stay with her.
Anything
.

“I appreciate your concern,” she said nonetheless, “but I assure you I can take care of myself. Please do not speak of this again.”

She kicked in her heels and galloped off to ride ahead.

Chapter Twenty-five

They reached the village of Killin sooner than anticipated, arriving at the inn not long after the storm gained intensity, blowing bitter gusts of wind and rain across the fields and through the muddy streets.

They rode into the stable yard, where Lachlan helped Catherine down from her horse and through the driving rain to the door. He secured the most expensive room for her, on the third floor, and arranged lodgings for himself and the others on the first.

“A hot bath would be most welcome,” Catherine said to the innkeeper, who snapped his fingers and sent a young maid scurrying to the back room to make preparations; then Lachlan accompanied Catherine up the stairs.

The room was spacious and warm. A pile of logs awaited lighting in the hearth, and a braided rug covered the wide plank floor.

Catherine strode all the way in and looked around. “It will feel like heaven to sleep here tonight,” she said, swinging around to face him in the open doorway. Slowly, she approached him. “You won’t disappoint me, will you? You will come?”

The double meaning in her words caused Lachlan’s blood to quicken in his veins, and he had to fight the urge to sweep her into his arms, carry her to the bed right then and there, and take her like a horny savage.

“Aye,” he flatly said. “I’ll make sure the others eat and drink plenty; then I’ll let them know I’ll be on watch until morning.” A shiver ran through him—one of feverish impatience. “But once we are alone, lass,” he added, “I’ll need you to help keep the situation under control. You must not tempt me into doing certain things I cannot do.”

“Of course,” she replied, reaching out to straighten his tartan over his shoulder.

He wondered suddenly if he should not take this risk after all, for he was overwhelmed by the intensity of his desires. Each day they drew closer to Edinburgh—and closer to the end of his torment—the more eager he became. It disturbed him, to want her so badly.

She pursed her lush, cherry lips, and he was done for. He bent forward to kiss her but recognized something else in her eyes. Something apprehensive …

He drew back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered, too quickly. “It was a long ride today, that’s all, and I have been able to think of nothing but you.”

“My feelings were no different,” he confessed. “But are you certain there is nothing else you wish to tell me?”

She stood for a moment wetting her lips, then moved against him and slid her hands up and down his chest. “Only that I will not rest until you come back to me.”

She tugged his shirt out from under his kilt and proceeded to kiss the sensitive flesh over his rib cage, then stimulated his nipples with her tongue.

Lachlan’s blood pounded through his veins. His warrior’s body ached with need. As he slid a hand around the back of her neck and toyed with the loose tendrils of hair at her nape, he said, “I thought you were going to help keep things under control, lass, but when you do things like this, I worry that we’ll forget ourselves.”

She lifted her heated gaze and grinned up at him. “It’s much too late for
me
,” she told him. “I’ve already forgotten everything.”

With a small grin, he gently pushed her away. “You’re a danger to my sanity, you know.” He quickly tucked his shirt back in. “I must be raving mad, agreeing to come here tonight to frolic with such a lusty wench. How can I be sure you won’t take advantage of me, when I’m most vulnerable?”

She followed him to the door. “You’ll just have to trust me, I suppose.”

He stopped and faced her. “I’m serious, lass.”

Catherine’s expression darkened. “I know. But it will be all right,” she assured him. “I promise I will be good. Just please, do not change your mind.”

He gazed down at her moist lips, the soft pale flesh of her bosom, then back up at her beguiling blue eyes, stormy as the winter sea. He wanted to lose himself in those eyes, and every other part of her, and give to her what she had given to him the night before.

“I won’t,” he gruffly replied before he finally tore himself away from her greedy hands and strove to quiet his heedless passions. At least until midnight.

*   *   *

Lachlan did not see Catherine again throughout the evening, for she bathed privately in her chamber, then ate a small supper alone, which was sent up on a tray, while Alex guarded her door.

Lachlan in turn kept himself busy and distracted by arranging for a coach and driver to take her the remaining distance to Edinburgh. A wheeled vehicle had been an impossible luxury before Killen, for in the north there were few roads adequate for such means of travel. But they were in the Lowlands now. Everything was different.

He ate supper with the clansmen in the tavern across the street from the inn while waiting for the clock to strike twelve. When at last it marked the critical hour, he took a careful look around and decided it was time to take over the night watch.

As he left the tavern and crossed the muddy street, a gentle breeze fluttered his kilt and the world seemed different somehow. He felt rejuvenated. Hopeful. Tonight he would share a bed with a woman he desired and cared for, and it was not so very frightening, for he knew she understood his limits—she understood his
heart
—and tomorrow they would travel to Edinburgh to meet Raonaid, her sister, who might finally put an end to his suffering.

There was some hope now, he supposed, and over the next few hours, he would allow himself to take some pleasure in that hope while doing everything he could to give generously to Catherine in return. Just the thought of it caused his blood to race, and his desire for her increased tenfold.

Climbing the stairs to her room, he focused on the internal workings of his body, determined this time to satisfy her before he satisfied himself, and by God, he would make it last much longer than before. Till dawn if she was keen.

Reaching the top of the stairs, however, he stopped at the sight of young Alex, who had volunteered to be on watch until Lachlan arrived. Alex was sitting on the floor outside her door, his legs stretched in a V across the corridor, his musket clutched tightly at his chest.

The top stair creaked under Lachlan’s weight. Alex leaped to his feet and aimed the musket. The flame in the wall sconce danced alarmingly.

“I cannot allow you to go in there, sir,” he said. “Angus the Lion sent me to protect Lady Catherine, and it’s my duty on this night to protect her from
you
.”

Lachlan felt his eyebrows pull together in dismay. “It’s
my
job to protect her, Alex, not yours. You’re my scout. I do not require anything else from you.”

Alex shook his head. “
You
may not require it, sir, but Lady Catherine does. I saw you last night, you see. I know that you went to her tent, and I cannot allow you to take advantage of her like that again.”

Slowly ascending beyond the top step, Lachlan held up a hand. He needed to keep the lad calm. “I’m not taking advantage of anyone, Alex. I am Lady Catherine’s escort, and she wants me here. She invited me.” Just to make the situation absolutely clear, he added, “She’s
waiting
for me.”

“But she’s innocent and vulnerable,” Alex shakily argued, “and has no memory of her life. Last night you seduced her. I have no doubt of it. I know all about your shady reputation. I’ve heard how you make the lassies swoon and do anything you ask of them. But Lady Catherine is different, and I won’t allow such …
impropriety
to occur. Not with her.”

Lachlan inclined his head curiously. “Did your cousin Gwendolen tell you to keep an eye on me?”

“Nay, sir. I have eyes and ears of my own, and as I said, I saw you last night. I know what’s going on. I know what you plan to do here, and I cannot allow it to happen.”

Alex tilted his head to the side and closed one eye, peering at Lachlan down the long length of the gun barrel.

Lachlan spoke in a calm, quiet voice. “I promise you, I’m here to keep her safe, Alex.”

It was a lie, and Lachlan knew it. He was here for improprieties of the worst kind, and he was suddenly beginning to wonder if young Alex MacEwen might have been a better man for the job of her protector.