Tess and the Highlander (4 page)

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Authors: May McGoldrick

Tags: #Romance, #Scotland, #Young Adult, #highlander, #avon true romance series

BOOK: Tess and the Highlander
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She nodded weakly. But the loud chatter of her teeth
was making it impossible for Tess to speak clearly.
“D-d-dry…clothes.”

“Where?” He looked about him again and then followed
the direction of her gaze to the ladder and the opening above. She
nodded when he pointed at it.

Leaving her, he crossed the room and climbed up
through the hole to the area beneath the roof.

Staring dully at his legs as he disappeared into the
eaves, Tess realized that she no longer feared him. The man didn’t
have to come after her. He didn’t have to bring her back. But he
had. She managed to undo the laces of her dress in the front. Her
fingers were clumsy and her skin actually hurt as she peeled away
the soaked layers and crawled under the blanket. She felt the
intense weariness again weighing her down. And it was so cold. She
just wanted to go to sleep and forget about everything.

Pulling her knees tightly against her chest, she
closed her eyes.

 

Thin shafts of light from a number of breaks in the
roof cut through the dim haze. Crouching beside the opening he had
climbed through, Colin glanced about with bewilderment at the large
open space. Yesterday, he had thought it was just a room used for
storage when he’d peered in. Now it occurred to him that the loft
was a veritable treasure trove…if one considered junk to be
treasure.

But it was also the most organized midden he’d ever
laid eyes on.

Colin couldn’t stand up completely beneath the low,
sloping roof, and as he moved carefully in the dim light, he ducked
under ropes that had been strung from one end wall to the
other.

Hundreds of castoff items, if not more, were
stacked on the floor in orderly rows. A cracked flute. A rusted
helmet of a design he’d never seen. A pilgrim’s bottle that looked
usable. A mortar without the pestle. Some kind of clan banner with
all the colors bleached out. A rusted chain shirt. Most looked like
things that might have been washed ashore from sinking ships.

Colin suddenly remembered the shivering
young woman below and left his perusal of this room for another
time.

Against one of the end walls, he spied
neatly folded piles of what looked to be ancient, wool blankets
beside a worn sea chest. A couple of moth-eaten woolen cloaks sat
on the chest. Laying them aside, he pushed open the large chest and
stared.

On top, an ornately wrought golden cross,
encrusted with bright jewels, caught his attention. The piece was
magnificent. He picked it up and looked at it. The cross hung from
a short gold chain. The length of it was only suitable for a child.
He remembered the pieces of mending he’d seen downstairs before.
Carefully replacing the cross, he eyed a young girl’s dainty shoes.
Next to them lay two small combs. There were other items in the
chest, but his thoughts were once again drawn to the wet lass in
the room beneath him. He left everything as he’d found it and
closed the chest.

Looking around, he spotted two woman’s dresses
hanging from a couple of pegs. Colin grabbed for one of them and
started for the ladder before pausing. Going back, he took a few of
the woolen blankets and one of the cloaks, too.

The fire had taken the worst of the chill off the
chamber by the time he descended.

“I hope this will do. ’Twas no easy task finding it
up there amid the…”

His words trailed off. Wet clothes had been cast off
beside the bed, and the young woman seemed to be sound asleep.
Colin was well aware of what too many hours in the cold could do to
a person. He stocked the hearth with more driftwood and moved again
to her side. He touched her forehead. She was still very cold, and
her breathing struck him as shallow and labored.

“You can put this other dress on yourself…when you
are ready.” He spread the extra blankets on top of her and placed
the dry dress within her reach.

Colin pushed the wet strands of hair out of her face
and, for the first time, really looked at her. Dark long lashes lay
peacefully against skin that had been gently kissed by the sun. He
stared at the perfect symmetry of eyes that he remembered were so
large and dark. She had a straight nose and full lips. With her
thick, dark waves of hair flowing down over her shoulders, Colin
could imagine she would look like a mermaid. She was young, but
very beautiful, and he couldn’t understand for the life of him what
she was doing on this island.

Colin saw her shiver again. Gently, he touched the
smooth skin of her face to make certain she was warming up. She
rolled onto her side and clasped his hand between her own and laid
her cheek on it. The simple gesture made him smile.

“I so wish I knew your name, lass.”

“So c-c-cold…” she whispered weakly in her sleep,
trying to tug his warm hand beneath the blanket.

He disengaged his hand from the young woman and
instead tucked the covers more tightly around her.

“I am a man, my bonny islander, and there are limits
to a man’s restraint.”

Her shivering was getting worse instead of
better.

“’Twould be best for you to stop challenging all I
say.”

Shaking his head, he leaned over and pushed her
closer to the wall. Then, with a deep sigh of resignation, Colin
lay down on top of the blankets and nestled against her.

“I do not know if you’ll get any heat from my body
this way, but this is as much help as I’m willing to be.” He
crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the blackened ceiling
above. “And not a word of this to the men who come back for me,
understand? You’re not to say anything about me lying beside you
with you all…all naked beneath this blanket. And absolutely
nothing
about what a bloody gentleman I’ve been!”

She tucked her cold nose into the crook of his
neck.

Colin rolled toward her and drew the bundled woman
tightly to him, enveloping her in his warmth. “I have a reputation
to protect. So none of this gets out. Do you hear me, lass?”

She didn’t say anything in agreement, but she didn’t
contradict him, either.

A very good start, he thought.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

“He is alive. I know it,” Alexander Macpherson said
curtly to the two sailors preparing to take the news of his
youngest brother’s mishap overland to the family at Benmore Castle.
“You tell them that.”

The ship, still buffeted by the strong winds and
stinging rain, strained at its anchor in Anstruther harbor on the
Fife coast. They had been lucky when there had been a slight lull
in the storm around midnight. Taking shelter in the barren,
windswept harbor, Alexander had been striding across the deck all
night, cursing the storm that was holding him hostage.

Just because his ship was trapped, though, the
ship’s master was not about to sit idle. Alexander had already sent
off a dozen men on foot and horseback to the north and a dozen more
to the south with directions to comb every beaches and inlets from
Fife Ness to Kincraig. But the area being searched was only a small
stretch compared to the shoreline south of the Firth of Forth, and
he would need more men to broaden the search. He would find his
brother.

As the two messengers dropped into the small boat
that would take them to the shore and to waiting horses, one of the
ship’s mates spoke up to the small group gathered by the railing.
“I for one have never seen a better swimmer than Master Colin.”

Alexander understood the words were said as much for
his sake as anyone else’s.

“Aye,” said another. “That sea could easily have
carried ‘im all the way to Leith.”

“Knowing how ready the lad was to be done with that
lot at St. Andrews,” an old tar added, “I’ll wager he’s swum all
the way to Dundee. Why, the young devil’s no doubt sitting in front
of the fire at the Cock ‘n’ Crown right now, a cup o’ ale in ‘is
hand and a lassie on ‘is knee.”

“Ye mean
both
knees.” The other corrected.
“The way the lassies throw themselves at the lad…” The sailor
paused, shaking his head in wonder. “What young Master Colin says
is right—why settle for one when ye can have ‘em all?”

As the men laughed uneasily, Alexander looked out
across the harbor at the storm-lashed sea. He wished he could be so
sure. He wished he had Colin here now.

His ship’s mate laid a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll
find him, m’lord. ‘Tis a sailor’s lot to end his days in the sea,
but Master Colin’s time was not up. I’m certain of it.”

The ship’s master silently cursed the storm in
frustration. Though he’d continue to have his men scour the shore,
it would be much easier to sail up and down the coast in search of
him.

“While we’re trapped on this barren harbor, I’m
joining ashore to join the search to the south. Send someone after
me if you get any news from the others.”

“Aye, m’lord.”

As Alexander called for a boat, he tried to push
back the nagging voice in his head that kept telling him that
perhaps he was not doing enough. But then, maybe all of this was
for nothing. Perhaps Colin was indeed lost at sea.

Nay. He wasn’t ready to deal with such a
possibility. His brother had too much life in him…too much fight in
him…to die like that.

 

Her first conscious thought was the realization that
she was warm.

She snuggled into the familiar comfort of her
bedding. Warm and dry. Tess let out a deep breath. She could hear
the sound of the wind and rain against the walls, and the stormy
sea in the distance. She’d get up in a moment and see about getting
together something to eat. Aye, she was hungry and thirsty, and she
needed to relieve herself. Just a moment more, she thought,
stretching her muscles beneath the blanket, savoring the lovely
warmth surrounding her. Her legs bumped against something hard.

Tess opened her eyes and froze, too stunned even to
breathe. Inches from her face she could see the mouth and chin of
the sleeping Highlander. The two were both lying together on the
narrow bedding! On
her
bed! One of the man’s lean, muscular
arms rested on her bare shoulder. She had been using his other arm
as a pillow. She could feel his warm breath caressing her
forehead.

And she was naked, she realized with a hot flash of
panic. She didn’t have to lift the blankets to know she was bare to
skin.

Tess moved her head only slightly to look down at
his body. From what she could see, the Highlander was fully clothed
and sleeping on top of the blanket.

Bits and pieces of a one way conversation rattled
around in her mind. He seemed to talk quite a bit. She also
remembered him being concerned about her. Aye, he’d come after her.
He’d even carried her back here! And then she faintly recalled
taking off her own wet, half-frozen clothing before falling
sleep.

Falling sleep naked. Her entire body flushed hot at
the thought.

She glanced again at him. But nothing had happened.
He was fully clothed even now. Layers of blankets separated
them.

Tess stared at the man’s full lips. So near. A
shadow of growth was already darkening his chin. His shoulders were
wide. His strength was so potent even while sleeping. And still she
found she was not at all afraid of him.

Tess instantly knew that spending too many hours in
the cold must had done some serious damage to her mind. She had to
somehow escape this bed and dress herself before the
Highlander…

Her stomach growled loudly.

Tess held her breath as the man mumbled something in
his sleep. Before she dared to move, his two arms wrapped around
her like bands of steel, and he drew her tightly against him. Her
head was tucked under his chin and her body was aligned perfectly
with his.

As she was trying to think of some way to extricate
herself from this situation, she was shocked to feel his hands move
up and down over her back, as if he were trying to warm her. And it
was working. Too well, in fact. In her entire life, Tess had never
had anyone do such a thing to her, and a wild thrill raced through
her at the feeling he was producing in her.

The thrill turned to real panic the instant she felt
his hand stray a bit too low on her back. She was ready to awaken
him with a jab, but then the Highlander rolled to his back and
tucked her into the crook of his arm.

From this angle, she had a much better view of the
room. The fire in the hearth had burned down to red coals. The wind
was whistling through the small windows, and she knew the storm was
still continuing unabated. The light was dim in the large room, and
Tess guessed that night was approaching again. She spotted her wet
clothing in a pile near the hearth. Next to the Highlander’s other
shoulder, she caught sight of a dry dress he must have brought down
from the loft where Garth and Charlotte stored things. She’d slept
there as a child.

Ever so slowly, she stretched her arm over his chest
and tried to get hold of the dress. She couldn’t reach it. Waiting
another moment and making sure his breathing was even, she lifted
her body slightly and tried again to reach over his wide chest for
the clothing.

Getting hold of it this time, Tess gathered the
woolen dress in her fist and slowly started to disentangle herself
from him.

He released her, rolling slightly toward her. She
sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward when he didn’t wake up.
Pressing back against the stone wall, she sat up and—as the blanket
fell away—wrestled the dress hurriedly over her head.

By the time Tess knelt up breathless on the bedding
with the dress nearly covering her, she realized it was a miracle
that the Highlander was continuing to sleep on like the dead.

 

After all the trouble she’d given him the day
before, he certainly deserved
some
entertainment. Watching
her struggle to put on the dress was all that and more, Colin
thought. Her body was perfect, her skin smooth as polished
ivory.

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