Taming the Scotsman (3 page)

Somewhat, anyway.

He moved to stand beside her, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. “Whatever did they feed you to make you grow so large?”

An amused gleam came to his glacial eyes. “A great deal of
breast
milk.”

Nora gasped at his response. “You take great delight in shocking people, don’t you?”

His softened features made him appear almost boyish. Charming. But it didn’t last long before his face settled back into the frown she
was getting used to. “What I delight in is people leaving me alone. I find that by being shocking it often causes them to flee my presence post-haste.”

“I offered to leave.”

He growled at her. “Come, we might as well get started. The sooner I get you to Lochlan, the sooner I can come back here.”

“And mope?”

He stiffened at that. “I’m not moping.”

“Oh, forgive me. See, where I come from an upside-down smile means you’re frowning, and if you’re frowning while withdrawn from everyone and everything, it means you’re moping. I guess here in your cave, the world is backward and a frown means you’re happy.”

“Do you always talk this much?”

“Aye, especially when people, usually men, try to ignore me.”

He gave her a droll stare. “What a wonderful trait to possess.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “I personally think so. My aunt calls me charming.”

“Your Aunt Eleanor?”

“Aye.”

“And when, pray tell, did you journey to England to meet with her?”

“Oh, never. My mother doesn’t travel well, so Eleanor has come to us several times over the years to visit and catch up.”

“And no one else in Scotland knows of this?”

“My father always knows, as do our servants, but Eleanor prefers to travel in disguise. Seems something happened once when she was traveling as queen, and now she makes sure no one knows who she is or when she travels.”

“I see.”

He said the words, but she could tell he didn’t mean them. He thought she was insane. Well, she had been called worse. Mayhap if he thought her a bit light in the head, he might be swayed to turn his back while she went on her way.

It was a thought…

He led her from the cave.

“Have you ever been to England?” she asked as she hastened her steps to keep up with his long, dangerous stride. “My mother says London is a dirty place that is hot in the summer and very crowded.”

Ewan groaned aloud as he secured the door to his home. This was going to be a long trip if she insisted on prattling the whole way there. Already his head felt as though it would splinter.

He turned and found her so close to him that he almost ran her over.

She blushed rather prettily, then moved aside. “Will we be off then?”

Grimacing, he rubbed his forehead with his hand.

“Have you an ache in your head?”

He paused and opened one eye to look at her. “Aye.”

“Here,” she said, taking his arm and leading him to sit on a rock off to the side. “Sit down and let me help.”

Mistrustful, he grimaced. “What can you do?”

“You’d be amazed. My father says ’tis a gift the good Lord gave me to help alleviate the damage I cause.”

Ewan frowned even more at her words as he sat down. “Is your father always so harsh with you?”

“Nay, he’s a good man. I just tend to unnerve him from time to time.”

He gave a short snort at that, not doubting it in the least. This woman could try the patience of Job himself.

As soon as he was seated, she ran her hands through his hair, massaging his scalp.

Och now, that felt rather nice. Her hands were warm and gentle, and her fingers deftly soothed the pain from his head as she tugged lightly at his hair.

Before long, he found himself greatly relaxed and much calmer. The tight band of pain loosened.

A man could get used to this. And for the first time he noticed the pleasant scent of her. She smelled of fresh lilacs and warm sunshine, a scent that was as fetching as the lady herself.

She was a pretty little maid. Her brat had fallen down around her shoulders to form a shawl while she tended him. Her long blond hair fair glistened, and her figure was trim and ample enough to be well worth a good tupping.

His body reacted instantly to the thought of her underneath him. To the thought of him tasting her slightly parted lips…

Ewan sucked his breath in sharply as he hardened against his will.

“Here now,” he said, rising to his feet. “Enough of this. We have a trip to make.”

“Is your head any better?”

“Aye,” he said gruffly. It most definitely was. However, it was his other region that now pained him.

Clearing his throat, he headed for the small trail that would lead them down the mountain to the stable where his horse was kept.

Nora followed after him, all the while noticing the ease with which he moved, the manly grace. He was tall and strong and as surefooted as any man she’d ever seen.

When he wasn’t snarling at her, he was actually quite handsome, even with his thick whiskers covering his face.

His curly black hair needed a combing, and for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she wanted to offer to brush her fingers through it so that she could remove the becoming tangles.

He reminded her of some great, hulking bear, what with his massive form, snarling tones and gruffness.

It was obvious that he and the word “refinement” were complete and utter strangers, and yet there was something about this rugged, tor
mented man she found strangely captivating, and she wondered if he’d always been so morose.

Surely as a lad, he’d been laughing and carefree.

Hadn’t he?

“Have you always been so large?” she asked.

He cast an evil glare over his shoulder. “Aye. I came from my mother’s womb at full height. The shock of it almost killed her.”

She grimaced at his humor. “Do you always walk so fast? I can barely keep up with your strides. I feel like a small child running after a parent.”

When she stumbled on the rocks, Ewan quickly caught her and set her back on her feet.

To her chagrin, her hands went flat against the strength of his arms, and she felt the incredible power of his body. The man was a wall of well-toned muscles. One that made her breath catch in her throat and her body erupt into heat.

Against her will, an image of his nude form spread out invitingly across his bed went through her mind.

Aye, she knew all too well what primal masculine charms were concealed by his saffron shirt and trewes.

All six-foot-six strength of it.

His was a body surely made for sinning.

“Take care, my lady,” he said sharply. “I have no wish to take you home mangled.”

In spite of his rough words, there was a gentleness in his touch that belied his tone. Her ogre
wasn’t the fierce beastie he let on to be. She was rather sure of it.

“Why do you wish to live out here alone?” she asked as he withdrew from her and took up his lead again.

“I like my solitude.”

“But doesn’t it get lonely?”

He hesitated. “Nay.”

She learned something about him then. His nose wrinkled ever so slightly when he lied.

“Don’t you miss being with your brothers?”

A deep, dark sadness fell over his face, and his entire body tensed. “My lady, would you please hold your tongue for a bit? I’m not used to conversing, and I find myself quite worn out by it.”

“I shall refrain if you will answer one more question.”

“And that is?”

“Why does everyone say you killed your brother?”

“B
ecause I
did
kill my brother.”

If Nora lived a thousand years, she would never forget the look on Ewan’s face as he said those anguished words to her. She saw his grief. His pain.

His wasn’t the face of a man who had killed his brother. At least not on purpose.

It was the face of a man who was tormented by the loss. One who would do anything to have his brother back.

“What happened?”

His blue eyes turned arctic as he moved away from her. “What do you care? You didn’t know
him. Hell’s toes, you barely know me and I’ve no wish to speak of it.”

She would respect that. It was more than obvious that he felt deeply about his brother and whatever had happened to him.

Over the years, she’d heard a number of stories about the death of Kieran MacAllister. Some claimed Ewan had cut his brother’s throat while he slept. Others said he’d cut out his heart.

Some were much more lewd.

The only thing the rumors had in common was that Ewan had killed Kieran.

Personally, she didn’t believe those tales for one reason and one reason only. Had Ewan MacAllister taken the life of his older brother, his other brothers wouldn’t be so close to him now. Nor would they rally to his defense when others spoke harshly of him.

Everyone with an ounce of Scots in them knew the one law that governed the MacAllister clan. To threaten one brother was to threaten them all.

A kinship such as theirs would never tolerate, let alone protect, Ewan if he were guilty of killing Kieran.

And so she’d bet her life on her reasoning.

Luckily, so far she’d been right.

Ewan led her to a small stable that she hadn’t noticed on her arrival. Hidden behind a copse of trees, it had a good-sized corral that was made up of the mountain on all but one side of it.

She glanced around with a frown. She’d left her maid and one of her father’s retainers waiting close by, along with her mare.

Now only her horse was still present.

The other two people and horses were nowhere to be seen.

“Agnes? David?” she called out, looking about for them.

“What are you doing?” Ewan asked.

Nora frowned as she continued to look about. “My maid and one of my father’s men were here. I left them to travel alone to your…” She paused before she said something to offend him, then finished with “home.”

He looked at her incredulously. “Your father’s man allowed that?”

“Well, aye. He didn’t question it when I said I would go up to your cave alone. He said they’d wait right here until I returned.” Fear and concern knotted her stomach. “You don’t think anything happened to them, do you?”

Before he could answer, she caught sight of a folded piece of parchment tied to her saddle by a red ribbon.

Curious, she went over to it and pulled it free. She opened the letter and read it.

Nora stared at the words in disbelief.

“What is it?” Ewan asked, coming over to stand by her side.

“David says they have abandoned me,” she said quietly.

How could they have done such a thing?

Nora read the words aloud. “It says that since they delivered me into your capable hands, they decided it would be best for them to return home before someone missed them and thought they were part of my conspiracy.”

Ewan let out a disgusted sigh. “’Tis a good thing I was here then, otherwise you would have been left to your own defenses. Were I your father, I’d have some of that man’s skin for his carelessness. Such a dereliction warrants a beating and then some.”

Spoken like a less than refined gentleman. True, David should have ascertained her welfare before leaving; still, it didn’t warrant a harsh beating.

David had always been a faithful servant to both her and her father. It didn’t make sense that he would leave without verifying her well-being.

Why had he done such a thing?

Turning his back to her, Ewan whistled for his horse, and to her amazement, the beast obeyed.

It trotted over to him like an old friend.

He clucked his tongue at the horse and patted it gently on the nose. “Hi there, laddie,” he said softly. “You ready for a ride?”

The horse nickered, then butted Ewan’s shoulder affectionately.

Without a word to her, Ewan released his horse and made his way into the small barn.

She followed behind him curiously.

Inside the makeshift storage area, she saw the hay and feed for the horse. Everything was very neat and well kept, much as his home had been.

Ewan pulled a bridle from its peg on the wall and grabbed the heavy saddle up as if it weighed nothing at all. Her eyes widened at the sight of him as he carried it out the door. The fabric of his shirt contoured against every deep crevice of the muscles on his back and ribs. Every masculine bulge was practically laid bare to her hungry gaze.

Her knees went weak.

Ewan was a heavenly feast for the eyes, no doubt whatsoever. His muscles fair rippled with every move he made, and though his hair was much too long, she found the texture of it strangely beckoning.

She remembered only too well what it had felt like to run her fingers through those thick, black waves.

And his eyelashes…

Surely no man should have a set so long. They made a perfect frame for his crystal blue eyes.

He was what her mother called a heavenly form of masculine perfection.

Nora remained perfectly silent while he saddled his mount. She found her throat far too dry to speak.

Especially when he bent over to fasten the saddle around the horse’s belly.

It was the first time in her life she’d ever noticed
a man’s backside. His dark brown trewes were tight over his rear and showed her his manly proportions. Of course, it didn’t help that she had already seen that backside bare and knew firsthand just how well shaped it was.

Very disturbing.

But not nearly as much as the peculiar desire she had to walk up to him and run her hand along those lean hips, then up his back and over his chest.

Nora
!

Where were these thoughts coming from? Her mother would die of shock, and she herself was mortified by the wayward drift of her attentions.

What was it about Ewan that made her long to do things with him that would have her spending the rest of her life in penance for them?

She’d always fashioned herself to be a moral and decent lady. Circumspect in all things.

Until now, she’d never really tasted decadent lust.

But she tasted it now.

It was hot and demanding.

Frightening
.

And all too alluring.

Ewan led his horse to hers and inspected her mare. An involuntary shiver ran over her as she noted the care he took with the animal. The way his long, tapered fingers stroked and soothed her horse.

Nay, he wasn’t a completely evil ogre. Such a
man wouldn’t care for animals the way he did. And a true ogre would never have so tender a touch.

He turned toward her with a frown. “Do you intend to come over here and mount your horse, or are you wanting to stare at my backside for the rest of the day?”

Heat scalded her cheeks, though from anger at his words or embarrassment from the fact that she was doing just that, she wasn’t sure.

“You, sir, have the manners of a stump.”

He gave her a droll stare. “Since I’m as tall as a tree, that would be rather fitting, don’t you think?”

His humor caught her off-guard. Interesting that he could laugh at what, in all honesty, had been a very rude comment on her part. She really shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t something she would normally do, but something about this man rather brought out the worst of her.

Most likely, it was the fact that he really did have the manners of a stump.

She went to her horse, then turned to look at him expectantly.

He moved to his own mount without so much as a backward glance at her.

“Well?” she asked when it became completely obvious that he had no intention of returning to her side.

He looked at her blankly, as if he had no idea what she wanted from him. “Well what?”

How dense could the man be? Surely he had more common decency than this?

“Are you not going to help me mount?” she asked.

“Can you not do it yourself?”

She was aghast. Did the man not have a mother? A sister? Anyone around him who was female?

“Well, no. I need your help.”

He used his reins to scratch his bearded cheek as he stared at her speculatively. “Need my help…what?”

“To mount.”

He snorted at that. Dropping the reins, he folded his arms over his chest and pierced her with those icy eyes of his. “If you be needing my help to mount, it seems, my lady, that you are forgetting the one important word in that sentence.”

Nora was stunned by his demand. The bear who lived in a cave was lecturing
her
on manners?

Was this some kind of jest?

“I’m waiting,” he said impatiently.

She glared at him, and that arrogant stance that demanded manners from her and yet required none from him.

“Fine then,” she said stubbornly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of correcting her, “I shall do it myself.”

Or so she thought.

What she quickly learned after trying to mount was that her mare was wont to move away every time she started to climb onto the horse’s back.

She tried several times, and several times the horse danced away from her.

“Ow!” Nora snapped as her foot was wrenched by the stirrup and she again found herself standing by the horse’s side while the cursed beast stared at her with mirthful eyes.

“Having a wee bit of a problem there?” Ewan asked.

“Nay,” she hastened to assure him as she gathered her skirt around her to prepare for another try. “No problem at all.”

If she could just get the beast to hold still.

Nora tried again.

This time, her horse stepped away at the worst possible moment.

Unbalanced, she fell sprawling into the dust with her skirts flying up high over her legs, exposing her to his view. Och now! She was humiliated over this.

Ewan bolted to her side and forced her prancing mare away from her. “Are you harmed, lass?”

She shoved her skirts down to cover herself. “Nothing more than my dignity, I assure you.”

To her surprise, he helped her to her feet and gently brushed the dirt from her skirts.

“I dinna mean for my ill humor to cause you hurt, Nora. Here…” He picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, and set her on the back of her horse.

Completely dumbstruck by the turnaround of his actions, she watched in silence as he walked to his own horse. He slung one long leg over his mount with an ease that truly made her envious.
Without a single care, he positioned himself on the horse’s back and leaned forward to take the dangling reins he’d dropped when he dashed to her aid.

Why did his horse stand there so patiently while hers felt the need to prance about and embarrass her?

But what amazed her most was the way Ewan looked on top of his horse as he controlled the powerful, spirited steed with ease. He sat confidently in his saddle with a raw masculine aura that brought heat to her cheeks and a strange pounding to her chest.

Even ill-kept and half drunk, he was an incredibly handsome man, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like with a bath, a shave and fresh clothes.

Truly, he would be devastating.

Perhaps his condition was a godsend after all. Dressed as he was, it was much easier for her to remember that he was nothing like the type of man she fancied.

That he was as ill-refined as any man could possibly be.

He lacked manners and couth.

But what he lacked in personality, he more than made up for in looks…

Nora
!

She shook herself mentally. Whatever was the matter with her? She was acting like her mother’s maid, who was ever quick to chase after any pass
ably handsome man, with no regard for the man’s heart or the consequences of her actions.

Nora always looked at what a man was on the inside. A pretty package might be beautiful to behold, but if it contained an asp, it was better cast aside than cradled to one’s bosom.

She’d lived her life always by that motto and no one, not even Ewan MacAllister, was going to change her.

Without a glance back at her, Ewan clucked his tongue at his mount and spurred it forward.

Once more, Nora was incredulous at his actions as he and the horse tore across the craggy land where any step could send both man and horse flying into peril.

Why, they’d be lucky if the two of them didn’t break their necks!

“Well, if you be thinking that I intend to run after you at that careless pace, you’ve another think coming, Ewan MacAllister,” she said, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

He might be Lord High-and-Mighty with a horse, but she wasn’t so foolish with her life. She actually wanted to get to England in one piece.

So she urged her mare forward and trotted much more carefully through the mossy landscape.

When she reached the edge of the meadow, Ewan was stopped and waiting for her with one hand fisted on his hip. His horse strained rest
lessly against the bit, wanting to run some more, but Ewan held it under control.

By his face, she could tell the man was greatly peeved at her.

“Gathering wool, are we?” he asked in a sharp tone.

“Nay,” she said primly, “merely practicing irritating you, and by the looks of your face, I’d say I’m doing a rather remarkable job of it. My mother always says that any effort worth pursuing is worth pursuing well.”

Growling, he scratched at his beard and eyed her fiercely. She wondered if the man even knew how to smile, if he realized just how fierce a specter he looked.

“You’re a spoiled lass, aren’t you?”

“Aye,” she said, tilting her head impishly. “My father says ’tis one of my more
endearing
qualities.”

He grunted at that, then turned his horse about and led her into the thick forest.