The Beautiful Stranger (12 page)

and use of titles, et cetera, the sound of his voice droning in his own ears.

Do you have one of the titles, then? she asked after his lengthy explanation.

Arthurs skin crawled with resentment. No, he answered flatly.

To his amazement, she merely shrugged. Seems like a bit of bother anyway, does it not? She had sweetly remarked, then had launched into a discourse about a certain Mrs. Donnersen who apparently claimed to be a descendent of Swedish kings. Kerry blithely reported that it was the collective opinion of the entire glen that Mrs. Donnersen was actually the descendent of a pig farmer from the Lowlands. As she rambled on about the pig farmers daughter, Arthur realized that not only had his lack of title not reduced him somewhat in her eyesa reaction he was entirely accustomed tobut it hadnt even registered.

The woman simply didnt care! It forced him to observe her in yet another new lightthe light of a woman who was not impressed with titles or the delicate balance of power among the British elite. It made him feel. . .free.

As the day wore on, Arthur admitted to himself that he was quietly fascinated with Kerry McKinnon. It pleased him that she was well read. When he remarked on it, she dismissed it by saying that her husband had been ill a long time and that she had read to pass the time. He learned that she had boarded at a girls school in Edinburgh, and that she lived in a valley called Glenbaden, where the McKinnon clan had lived for generations. She referred frequently to May and Big Angus, whom he now understood were relatives, and even more frequently to Thomas, another cousin, whom Arthur gathered she regarded more as a brother.

They reached a tributary of the River Tay in the late afternoon; when Kerry saw it, she jumped up with a squeal of delight. Oh, thank God, she cried, and whirled toward him, her hands clasped anxiously at her breast. Hurry with you nowtheres bound to be river traffic! With that, she picked up her skirts, running ahead of him, the black bombazine floating out behind her. Arthur shifted the satchel to his bad arm and calmly walked after her.

She was practically spinning in air when he finally reached the banks. A flatboat will come any time now, youll see! she said breathlessly. They travel up and down, between Pitlochry and Perth.

Perhaps, but as he didnt actually see one, or any sign of one for that matter, Arthur lowered himself to the ground under the shade of a tree to watch her pace, hoping for her sake that a boat did come along soon, because he did not like the looks of the dark clouds gathering in the east. Kerrys enthusiasm began to wane after a half hour of pacinghe supposed she imagined the river was virtually teeming with flatboats, all colliding with one another in their haste to take on passengers in the middle of nowhere. He, on the other hand, imagined it was much like her Crieff coachthere would be traffic on the main artery of the River Tay, but it likely would be nothing short of a bloody miracle to find a boat out on this little branch.

He was actually quite surprised when she came running toward him, pointing eagerly downstream.

Arthur tossed aside the long blade of grass hed been absently chewing and came slowly to his feet as the edge of a flatboat slid slowly into view around the rivers bend. It had a crude, box-like structure built at one endthe cabin, he presumed, only it looked more like a coffin. On the opposite end was a stack of crates, unmarked. He could just make out the heads of two men guiding the boat along with two long oars.

Kerry made a move; Arthur caught her wrist and pulled her into his side. Stay here. Ill speak with them.

He walked down to the rivers edge while the flatboat negotiated the narrow turn in the river. As the boat moved closer, Arthur saw that the two men manning the boat were twins. Built solid and square with perfectly round heads, they reminded Arthur of a team of matched bulls, practically indistinguishable from one another. Good day, gentlemen! he called as they straightened the boat.

The twins exchanged looks. Aye, gday, one of them responded, staring at Arthur curiously as he strolled alongside them.

I wonder, sirs, if you would be disposed to helping a pair of stranded travelers?

Neither man responded; they merely stared at him. Not exactly the talkative sorts, then. Arthur forced a smile. We were put off a coach to wait for another, you see, but alas, it never came. We find ourselves without conveyance.

One twin cocked his head and raked a curious gaze over him. Youd be English, he announced, as if that was news to Arthur.

I am from England, that is true.

The twin immediately shook his head. No. Canna take you.

What in the hell was this? Since when did a laborer refuse him? I beg your pardon? Arthur demanded with all the airs of aristocracy bred into him.

The twins looked at each other. No Lobsterbacks or sheepherders.

Lobsterbacks? Sheepherders? Now see here, sir! There havent been any Lobsterbacks to speak of in more than twenty years! And furthermore, would you begrudge a helpless widow passage? he demanded hotly, gesturing wildly to where he had left Kerry standing.

Aye, thatd be right, one said agreeably. Ye can beg your passage from the next boat that comes.

And when might that be? Arthur snapped.

Mayhap tonight, the man answered curtly, and turned away. Or mayhap the morrow.

Their irreverent demeanor infuriated him. Arthur groped for the gun at his side, but Kerrys voice upstream stopped him. He swiveled around, saw her standing on the bank ahead of him, her satchel in one hand.

Good day, laddies! she called, smiling that brilliant smile of hers. She had one hand on her waist, innocently holding her skirt in such a way as to flash a hint of her calf at the two men.

One of the twins looked up; a smile instantly broke his stoic face. Och, lassie! Got yourself in a wee bit of trouble, have ye?

On my honor, you wouldna believe me if I told you! A dreadful day! she said, turning so she could stroll beside the boat slipping upstream. I know you, surely! Ive seen the pair of you in Dunkeld, no?

The other twin smiled so broadly that Arthur feared his face would crack wide open. Aye, we are through there often enough.

Aha! I knew as much! I wouldna forget such handsome faces.

The two round-headed idiots chuckled in identical, sheepish tones, and Arthur realized they were bringing the flatboat to a halt alongside Kerry.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, flashed a brief but smug smile at his look of disbelief in their sudden transformation. Im desperate to reach Dunkeld now. My family will be awfully worried. You willna mind terribly if we come along? She followed the gaze of one twin to Arthur and hastily added, Ah, but he was particularly helpful when the coach didna come. I doona think he is a sheepherder.

What was the sudden fascination with sheepherding?

He be a Lobsterback, lass, the more talkative of the two said, to which Arthur snorted.

Aye, that he is, Kerry said, shooting him a quick, withering look. But when the robbers came, he protected me with his very life. I would think that would mean hes done a bit of a turnabout, eh? Hell not be a bother, I promise.

Robbers? the other one asked.

Kerry nodded solemnly. Highwaymen. Four of them, she said, holding up four fingers.

One twin looked suspiciously at Arthur, as if he had made that ridiculous claim. But the other twin, who had yet to peel his eyes from Kerry, piped up. Aye, all right, then. Well take him as far as Dunkeld, he said, ignoring the dark look of his brother.

Ah laddies, thank you! Kerry cried, and flashed a warm smile at them that even Arthur felt from several feet away. She turned her beaming grin to him and motioned him to hurry along.

With a low growl, Arthur stalked toward her, casting the twin bulls a look that clearly relayed his disdain as he helped Kerry onto the boat. He followed her, finding himself relegated to sit among the crates as the two bovine brothers pushed the boat into the river and continued their slow journey north. Much to Arthurs considerable annoyance, however, Kerry sat perched upon a crate, chatting with the two as if they were long lost friends. Exactly why it annoyed him, Arthur couldnt say. Other than he just didnt like the way Mr. Richey and Mr. Richeyas he finally learned their names to belooked at her. Nor did he like the way she smiled at them. Or how her lilting laughter seemed to fill the air around them.

After an hour or more, he grew so disgusted with her cheerful chatter that could fill the sail of a ship, that he turned his attention to the increasingly black sky. He glanced at the crude box built on one end of the flatboat and suppressed another groan. When the first fat raindrops fell, Mr. Richey Number One suggested Kerry step inside the little hut. Kerry insisted Arthur be allowed to come, too. That suggestion was met by an argument before the brothers grudgingly agreed.

How very kind, Arthur said snidely and stood, waiting for Kerry, who had moved to fetch her satchel.

That was the moment the downpour started, without warning. Instinctively, Arthur reached for her, but she mistook his meaning and thrust the satchel into his hand. Come on! he shouted, as rain came in sheets, and Kerry nodded, grabbing onto a crate to inch her way around it.

The clap of thunder that boomed above them was matched by a fierce bolt of lightning that hit so close

Arthur actually felt its jolt through his heart. He gasped, stunned by the sensation of it, and turned to look for Kerry.

She was nowhere.

He rushed to the edge of the flatboat, his fears confirmed when he glanced toward the Richey Brothers and one of them pointed downstream.

Bloody hell! With a heavy sigh, Arthur tossed her satchel to shore, cast a quick but fierce and final frown at the two Richey brothers, then plunged headlong into the dark waters of the River Tay tributary.

The harder she fought, the deeper the current pulled her into the rivers clutches. Kerry felt herself sinking with the weight of the voluminous bombazine skirts that marked her a widow. Was this the answer, then?

She was to die so soon?

Her feet hit the sandy bottomshe had sunk so fast! No! her mind screamed, and she struggled again, kicking wildly but vainly against the weight of her clothing, dragging her arms against the water in a desperate bid to lift her head above the surface. Her lungs were burning, felt as if they would explode at any moment. God grant her mercy, it was over! She would die alone, drown in the river in her best black bombazine.

A strange sense of calm was beginning to wrap itself around her when she felt the hand of God clamp down on her shoulder. It was Godshe felt herself being dragged upward, felt Gods legs kicking for both of them, powerful strokes, propelling them upward, upward, until her face broke the surface. Kerry dragged air into her lungs with a ragged cry, gasping, unable to get enough into her lungs. Oblivious to the rain, to the pull of her body through the water, to the struggle to lift her onto the riverbank, she gasped for air, choked on it, sputtering bile and water, then gulped for air again.

It was several moments before the cloud began to lift from her brain and she realized she was on terra firma, rain pelting her upturned face.

Its all right, Kerry, you are quite safe.

God had saved herHe had sent Arthur to save her life! The understanding of what had happened dawned harshlytears erupted, blinding her, and she lunged into him, burying her face in his neck as she sobbed uncontrollably.

There now, sweetheart. You are quite all right, he said soothingly, caressing the back of her head.

No, no, he didnt understand! I almost died, Arthur. I almost died! You saved my life! she wailed hoarsely, and choked on another sob.

Arthur forced her to lift her face to his, shook his head. I would not let you perish, Kerry. And really, you werent under terribly long. Its quite shallow.

He did not understand, could not fathom how close she had come to slipping the bonds of this earth but for him. I thought you were God, she murmured.

That was met with a moment of silence as his gaze pierced hers hard, then slowly dropped to her mouth.

Not God. Just a man. And he bent his head to hers.

The unexpected, soft touch of his lips paralyzed heruntil the sensation exploded within her core, jolting her back to life. It was so surprising, so tender, that her body reacted of its own accord, melting into him, clinging to the warmth of his lips.

A moan rumbled deep in Arthurs chest and suddenly his arms were around her, crushing her to him, nipping at her lips, sucking them, licking them. Kerry forgot the rain, forgot the river, forgot everything else as she opened her mouth and felt his tongue sweep boldly inside, tangling with hers, sweeping over her teeth, into her cheeks and producing a storm of emotion in her.

Her heart was pumping furiously now, stealing her breath again. She was aware that she answered the ardor of his kiss with an urgency of her own, one borne from years of unanswered desire, of living in a sick house with the wasting, rotting flesh of a man. She desperately explored his mouth, dug her fingers into the thick waves of his golden-brown hair, stroked his ears, his shoulders and arms, then gripped him with the same strength he had used to pull her from the waters so that he would not let her go. One large hand covered the whole of her ribcage; the other cupped her cheek and ear as he drew her bottom lip between his teeth, then dragged his mouth from her lips, to her chin, to the hollow of her throat.

The hunger burning in her was overwhelming; she feared she might shatter at any moment, that her limbs would fail her. She clung recklessly to him as she dropped her head to one shoulder and bared her neck to his mouth. Arthurs lips seared her skin, scorched the lobe of her ear. His breath in her ear sent a white-hot shiver of anticipation coursing through her veins. His hand swept the swell of her hips, pushed her body into his. Through the dripping fabric of their clothes, she could feel the ridge of his erection and inhaled a ragged, impassioned breath.

Ah, God Kerry, he murmured in her ear, then suddenly, as if she had been rudely startled from a dream, it was over. His hands slid up her arms until he found her wrists; he pulled her hands from his neck and clasped them tightly against his chest. No more, he said, and closing his eyes, pressed his forehead to hers, seemingly as breathless as she was. After a moment, he lifted his head and tenderly laid his palm against her cheek. We must find shelter or youll catch your death.