The Beautiful Stranger (10 page)

Yes. In vicinity of Pitlochry.

Aye. She nodded. A wee bit north of here yet, but the coach passes through there, I think.

At the very least, it brought him a small amount of satisfaction to know that at least he had been on the right road. That idiot hotel clerk. If he should ever return to Perth, he would I am really very sorry that I shot you.

Arthur started. He hadnt realized he was rubbing his wound and shook his head. Its quite all right, Mrs.

McKinnon. Im quite certain the gangrene wont set in for a day or two.

That earned him a roll of her pretty blue eyes, which made him smile. I am mortified, you know. I should have known just by looking at you that you were no robber!

And just how would you know by looking that I was not a robber?

Och, its obvious, she said, flicking her wrist impertinently. A robber would not wear clothing as fine as that, and he would surely be even filthier.

That made Arthur look downhe was filthy. Yet another new experience.

And I think they doona shave.

He was with herright up to the shaving part. Not shave? Why shouldnt a robber shave? he asked, confused by her logic.

Why, he needs his whiskers to mask his identity! Once he has committed his robbery, he shaves his whiskers, so that not a single person can say with certainty that it was him.

Aha. I had not realized that was how one went about a robbery.

I read it in a novel, she blithely explained, and looked uneasily over her shoulder, peering into the mist, missing his broad smile. Ive heard there are highwaymen along these very roads, she muttered. They camp in these woods, doona you think they do?

Arthur rather doubted a highwayman worth his pearl-handled pistols would be so foolish as to camp this close to a road, even if it was practically deserted. I rather think not.

Her hands fisted tightly in her lap. What do you suppose happened to the Crieff coach? she almost whispered.

Mrs. McKinnon, you are unduly frightening yourself. The Crieff coach had probably already passed when the driver put you out. There are no highwaymen here. No one has been along this road in hours and I am quite certain a good highwayman would study the public schedules before embarking on his rounds.

She smiled with such relief that a curious shiver coursed right down Arthurs spine, landing in the pit of his belly. Of course, you are right. She smiled again, but he noticed her hands were still fisted tightly in her lap. Ive read about England, she said, clearly changing the subject. In school, I knew a lass who hailed from Carlisle.

Carlisle. Near the lakes, he remarked, and taking her cue, launched into a rambling description of England beginning with the peaceful Lake District where the Sutherlands had their ancestral seat, to the rolling landscape of the moors where he had a small country house. Somehow, his remark upon that led to a mention of the stark beauty of the white cliffs at Dover, and then the magic of the forests in the Cotswalds.

Somewhere in the middle of his rambling, she shifted so that she was facing him, her funny little boots peeking out from beneath her gown. Arthur realized he actually had quite a lot to sayno one had ever really inquired about him or his home.

Mrs. McKinnon was either very good at listening or was as truly fascinated as she seemed. With the exception of the occasional nervous glance over her shoulder, she seemed to hang on his every word. He watched the light dance in her clear blue eyes as he spoke and realized, at some point in the conversation, that it was refreshing to sit with a woman who did not ask him about womens fashions, or what the latest rumor was among the ton, or what a pair of perfectly matched geldings might bring. Any one of a dozen questions Portia or any lady among the ton might have asked. Mrs. McKinnon asked about the English people, what they did to provide their living, where they were schooled, their hopes, their loves, their passions and fears.

I beg your forgiveness, Mrs. McKinnon. I have put you quite to sleep, he said after a while and withdrew his pocket watch. The late hour astounded himhe had not felt the time pass.

Oh no! she exclaimed, adamantly shaking her head. Its fascinating! Ive not had the good fortune to travel beyond my home. I like hearing about England. It sounds so heavenly a place. She covered her yawn with her hand.

Thank you, but I think we have quite exhausted the subject for one evening. He pushed himself to his feet. Ill build the fire, he said, and walked into the forest to gather more wood.

When he returned a quarter of an hour later, Mrs. McKinnon was lying on her side, her hands pillowed beneath her cheek, fast asleep. She looked much younger in her sleep, he noticed, in spite of the dark smudges beneath her eyes. Arthur shrugged out of his coat and carefully draped it over her.

He turned his attention to the fire, and when he had kindled the flames, he glanced again at Mrs.

McKinnon. What was the woman doing out here, alone? What had happened in her life? He moved to sit at the base of the tree next to her as he pondered that. He drifted to sleep, slipping easily into a dream in which Phillip appeared behind a tree, just beyond Arthurs grasp. But when he moved to catch him, he vanished, and Arthur struggled to remember if he had gone left or right, never really certain of where Phillip had come from or gone to.

The next thing he knew, he was waking in a dreamy state of arousal that strained against his buckskins.

He forced his eyes open, noticed he was lying down, on his back, next to the dead fire. But he was not cold, because, as his mind slowly began to comprehend, Mrs. McKinnonwrapped in his coatwas practically sprawled across him, her steady breath on his ear, her arm slung across his chest, andmerciful Godone leg hiked up and pressed against his groin.

It was bad enough to have shot him. Worse to have gone running into his arms at the sound of a few forest creatures, but to awake practically on top of himoh!

Kerry had almost killed herself getting off him, her arms and legs flailing as if she was being attacked by a horde of angry bees. She stumbled clumsily to her feet, at which point she had been completely unhinged by that wicked grin of his and had promptly tripped, just narrowly missing a headlong pitch into the grass. Her embarrassment only worsened as she tried to shove her skirts downwhich wasnt exactly easy, seeing as she had managed to twist her crinolines into something of a mishmash. Then she realized her hair was falling all around her shoulders in one glorified tangled mess of curls. Christ God!

It did not help, not at all, that he just pushed himself up to his elbow and said in his wonderfully rich, silky smooth voice, And top of the morning to you, too, Sunshine. Like a cat, he came gracefully to his feet, shook his fingers through golden brown hair that seemed one thick wave, then stretched his arms out wide and yawned. Rather anxious to begin the walk to Perth, are we? he asked over his shoulder as he strolled casually into the woods.

Kerry stared at his retreating figure, not sure if she should shout after him that she had no intention of going to Perth, or flee with all her humiliation in the opposite direction while she could. God, oh God, how was it that she had picked the most beautiful stranger in all the world to shoot? He was breathtakingly handsomeshe had noticed that even when his face was contorted in that awful way when he was cursing the loss of his horse. His face, bless it, was shaped by angels, square and strong, with high cheekbones and a noble chin. And his eyes. His eyes were the most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen, tobacco-brown flecked with shimmering green and gold. And he was tall, over six feet, broad shoulderedwhen he walked into the woods, she swore she could see every muscle in his hips and thighs move in all their splendor.

She had felt his arousal under her knee

Kerry suddenly whirled around. This was ridiculous! She had found herself practically panting last evening, watching his long, tapered fingers move as he spoke of England, the gentle curve of a smile on his lips, the sparkle of pride in his eye. How on earth she had ended up sleeping with him was beyond herbut it had given her a burning rash deep inside she could not scratch.

What madness! She had shot him! And in a few moments, they would go their separate ways, her apologizing one last time and he graciously making some little jest of it. She would not see this beautiful stranger again. So why was she almost breathless in her anxiousness around him? Had she forgotten she was a widow and barely eight months at that? For heavens sake, he was the son of an English nobleman!

This this preposterous infatuation was just one more thing the good Lord had thought to throw at her, one more thing with which she had to contend.

All right, there it was then, a silly infatuation with an exceptionally handsome man. Fine. She would take

her leave of him as she oughtbut not looking a fright. Her hair felt a complete mess; the Lord only knew what had happened to her hairpinsno doubt half of them were up on the road along with her bonnet.

Kerry abruptly dropped to her knees next to her satchel, yanked it open with a jerk that almost tore the handles from it, and dug until she found her hairbrush. She frantically pulled it through her unruly hair, but froze at the sound of his cheerful whistle.

Glorious morning, Mrs. McKinnon! he opined. Kerry slowly lowered her arm and looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was blindly and artfully tying his neckcloth. We should quite enjoy our walk.

He retrieved his rumpled riding coat, gingerly putting his injured arm into one sleeve, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there was a gaping and ragged hole in it.

Oddly embarrassed, Kerry shoved her brush into her satchel. Aye, it is indeed a bonny day. But Ill be walking to Dunkeld. Not Perth.

He paused in the dusting of his trousers to frown at her. What, do you think to wait for that coach yet?

Id wager it is hours before one comes through, if at all. I should think our chances of finding suitable transportation are much better if we start toward Perth.

I must be home, sir, she said politely, and came to her feet, self-consciously wrapping her hair into one big knot at her nape that she was fairly certain resembled a small animal attached to her head.

His frown deepened. Mrs. McKinnon, Dunkeld could be miles from here. Please be sensible and return to Perth where you can take another coach.

I doona intend to lose another day. My family will be frantic. And besides, I will find passage on a flatboat going upstream, not a coach. That, she thought, as the idea spilled out of her mouth, was a brilliant solution. If she headed due north, she would reach the River Tay, and from there, could follow the tributaries to Loch Eigg.

I cant let you do that, he said solemnly.

Surprised by the arrogance, Kerry laughed. It is not your decision!

I would be remiss as a gentleman if I let you foolishly wander off.

Foolishly wander off? Surely I needna remind you who is Scot and who is not? His shout of laughter was answer enough, but he replied with a resounding No. Arrogant cretin. Well then, Ill thank you for your help and Ill be off now.

Mrs. McKinnon

Ill walk to Dunkeld before I take even one step toward Perth! she fairly shouted. Lord, now what was she saying?

His beautiful hazel eyes narrowed; his cheeks puffed out as he considered her, until he finally let the air go in one loud swoosh. All in all, Id say you are about the most obstinate woman I have ever encountered. Go on, then, carry your fool self off to some danger, he said, and stuffed his hat down on his head. I dont intend to watch after you like a child.

No one asked you to do so, she shot back. Perhaps I should be watching you like a childat least I

would know to tether my horse.

His face darkened. Is that so? he drawled, lowering his head like a charging bull.

Something inside her twitchedKerry quickly snatched up her satchel and took several steps backward.

Aye then. I am grateful for your your, ah, companionship last evening, and I do so regret having shot you at all, but, well, accidents will happen, will they not, and I hope you have a lovely time of it in Scotland all the same, and a safe journey to England when the time comes, but if you will excuse me now, I really must get home.

Now he was advancing. She turned and walked quicklysprinted, ratheracross the clearing, to a point where the forest thinned and one could see through to another small clearing. She glanced over her shoulderhe had stopped, was watching her walk away, the scowl still on his face. She couldnt help herself; she lifted her hand. Farewell!

He didnt answer right away; a moment or two passed before he responded gently, Farewell, and Godspeed, Mrs. McKinnon.

A vague but deep sense of regret invaded her. It had been a very long time that she had been near a man so virile, so handsomeEnough! There was no time to mope about a beautiful stranger; she had enough on her mind. With a jaunty wave, she marched into the woods, swinging her satchel at her side.

Arthur watched her walk into the copse, saw the tendrils of morning mist begin to close around her. The woman wouldnt listen to reason if her very life depended upon it. Moreover, she was too headstrong for her own good, she went about shooting unarmed men, she slept like the dead, and she was so damned alluring there ought to be a law against it.

So when his feet began to move independently of his head, Arthur decided he had lost his bloody mind.

His feet put up the argument that, lest he forget, he was terribly lost, and for all he knew, he ought to be walking in the same direction as she anyway. If that wasnt enough, his heart further argued that he was a gentleman, and a gentleman did not allow a lady to walk off into potential dangernot a woman with a derriere like that, at any rateno matter how infuriatingly stubborn she was, the silly little Scot! Ah, but what could he do? It was plainly obvious she was desperately in need of his help.

Before he even recognized what was happening, Arthur was suddenly only a horse length behind her, following the gentle bounce of that round bum to hell for all he knew.