Winning the Highlander's Heart (14 page)

“Taking care of the horses.”

 “Should you not have stayed down below while they were gone?”

He reclined in the hay and rested his head on his arms.  “I was tired like your mistress.”

Mai glanced at Anice who quickly closed her eyes.

She would give anything to curl up against Malcolm’s broad chest and be warmed by him.  Instead, Mai lay down beside her, and several minutes later Malcolm’s brothers joined them.  Dougald offered the ladies a couple of more blankets.

After more rustling, everyone lay down to sleep.

Malcolm pondered the sweetness of Anice’s kiss.  “I wondered why the lady was not married already.”  He hoped Mai would enlighten him.

No one responded, but Malcolm imagined his brothers were dying to know about the cryptic message concerning Anice, a curse, and betrothals.

“His Grace said she is twenty,” he continued.

Again, there was not a word from anyone, though he only expected to hear one of the ladies respond to his question.

“It seems the lady would have been married at a much earlier—”

“She has been betrothed four times, milaird,” Mai said, her voice coated with sleep.

Malcolm swore both his brothers chuckled under their breaths, while he barely breathed to hear the news.  Four betrothals?

There was more to the wee lass than he could have imagined. 
But four betrothals?

Malcolm stared into the darkness in Anice’s direction.  How could the lady have been betrothed four times and never been married?

He ran his hands through his unbound hair.  “Norman lairds?”

Mai yawned.  “Two Scottish, two Norman.”

He rose up on his elbow.  “When was she betrothed to these nobles?”

Mai didn’t reply.

Malcolm lay back, trying to settle the disquiet he felt.  And for what reason?  He had no intention of marrying her.  So why did it bother him something fierce that she’d already had four betrothals?

Worse, if his brothers were still awake, which he assumed they were, did they wonder the same?  The lady was cursed when it came to marriage bans?

*  *  *

Early the next morning, Malcolm and the rest of the party broke their fast, eating coarse brown bread and drinking mead with the farmer, his wife, and six children.  Anice paid the farmer for their generosity, though Malcolm had offered.  His brothers looked on with surprise.  They were now in the lady’s employ.  Why would she not pay for their meal?

If he had served a laird, his brother even, he’d think nothing of it.  But he hated that Anice paid for his and his brothers’ meals.  He’d saved money from fighting in the Crusades.  And he’d received ample coin when he departed from his older brother’s employ to carry him through several years without wanting.  Still he had no properties and without, he would always work for someone else, instead of being a laird of his own castle.  And that’s what he wanted.  Not only that, but a wife who would bare his bairn, a son who would carry his title and name.

Anice washed her face, singing all the while.  She smiled broadly at him as Mai plaited her mistress’s red gold curls.  What would it be like to wake to such a delightful creature every morning?  Was she so cheerful because every mile they traversed brought her closer to home?

Would he be making a mistake not seeking her hand, instead of an Englishwoman’s?  Anice was a known quantity.  A prickly pear at times, but sweet, sure of herself, and totally intriguing at others.  Well, kind of a known quantity.  He couldn’t help wondering about the curse.

When she nearly danced to the chapel for a quick prayer before departure, his gaze gravitated toward her.  He wanted to dance with her and share the delight she exhibited in her springy step.  Still, he didn’t think King Henry would want him marrying his wife’s cousin when His Grace already had plans to wed Anice to a Norman laird.

Malcolm straightened his shoulders.  If she wished a Highlander laird to be her husband, why shouldn’t she have what her heart desired?

 “You had a good sleep, I see, lass.”

Her eyes sparkled in the low morning light, and she stretched her arms above her head.  “I have never slept in a loft before.  ‘Twas verra agreeable.”

“There was not anything else that helped you to sleep so well?”

Her lips curved up as she looked at his.  “Mayhap.”

Mai was following far enough behind her mistress, and he said closer to Anice’s ear, “Mayhap a good eve kiss?”

“I have had many.”

He frowned, the notion not boding well with him.  “You said you had never kissed a gentleman.”  And he knew it to be so, as shy as she had been at first with him.

“Aye.”

“Then which is it?  You have, or you have not?”

“I have not, milaird, in the manner in which you are speaking.”

Vixen.  But mayhap her meaning was that she did not kiss the noblemen back.  Only that they kissed her.  Still, the notion struck a chord of envy deep inside him.  “Did they kiss
you
, then?”

“Aye.”

He squashed the irritation he felt.  How could she be so delightfully charming and in the next instant, maddening?  “Then pray tell explain your meaning as I’m at a loss to understand it.”

“The gentlemen were my father and uncle.”

“Ah.  You are a vixen, lass.  You would have me believe—”

“You would believe what you will, milaird.  I spoke naught but the truth.”

He chuckled.  She had.  ‘Twas he who had more devious notions about the lass.  Yet, he knew she could not have kissed a lover, as innocent as she seemed.

But the betrothals bothered him.  As much as he knew it was not his business, and as much as he assumed she would tell him so, he would ask anyway.  He opened his mouth to broach the subject, but she stepped into the chapel, and that killed his questions for now.

Had her betrothed all died?  Or was she a terror and the bonds hastily rescinded once the men learned of her true disposition?

The more he learned about Anice, the more curious he was.  ‘Twas not because she stirred his loins every time she got close, or that he truly wanted her for his wife.  ‘Twas just his business to know all about the lady he would work for.

Following services, Mai talked to Anice in private, the older woman seeming to offer advice in a somewhat aggravated fashion.

Anice caught his eye and grinned.  Mai’s words to her seemed to not affect her cheerful mood.  For that he was glad.

Dougald slapped Malcolm on the shoulder.  “I thought we would stop in Northampton.”

“Aye, it would be a good stopping place.”

Dougald motioned for them to walk farther from where the ladies were talking.  “If you are as interested in the lady as you appear to be, why not ask the king’s permission to court her?”

“She does not want me...or my type, so she has said.”

Angus joined them, shaking his head.  “I have never seen a lass kiss you first who did not want you.”

“For my title, aye.”

Dougald shook his head.  “You spar like lovers.  You cannot tell me you are not as fascinated with her as she is with you.”

Malcolm smiled.  “She is a winsome lass, I cannot deny that.  But Henry wants her to marry a Norman laird.  I would think he would not agree to my wedding the lady.”

Dougald glanced back at the lady.  “You are no’ afraid of asking him, are you?  I have never seen you fear anything before.”

“’Tis the four husbands she was to wed before that concerns him,” Angus said.

“Aye, what if she poisoned every one of them, or slew them with her sharp tongue?” Dougald laughed.

“I shall discover all I can before I so rashly ask for the lady’s hand.  But it would be up to the king.  Still, mayhap the longer we get to know one another, I would find I would want naught to do with her, except serve as her steward.”

“If her lady-in-waiting had not slept between you and the lass last eve, you would not be talking like this.”  Dougald raised his brows.

Malcolm grinned.  The idea he could have snuggled under the blanket with the lass.

His brothers laughed.

Dougald made a parting comment before they continued their journey.  “Do not delay asking the king to court the lady.  Once Norman dandies seek her hand—”

“I have already warned her not to show any of them favor.”

Dougald chuckled as Angus’s mouth turned up in a grin.

“Because of the situation, do you not see?  Whoever has killed her uncle, if this was the case, wants to take her for his wife.  We do not know which laird it is.”

“I see your reasoning.  Though I agree with you, I still believe there is an underlying reason concerning the lady you choose not to reckon with,” Dougald said.

There was no arguing with his brothers.  If they chose to believe he wished more than being the lady’s steward, so be it.  Who was he to spoil their delusions?

Anice approached them, the fragrance of lavender that Mai had mixed with the water Anice washed with, scenting her skin.  “Shall we continue our journey?”

Malcolm led her to her horse.  “Aye, ‘tis time we depart.  Is your lady able to make another day of riding?”

Mai said, “I am ready, milaird.  I am not so old that I cannot ride for several more days.”

“Aye, good Scots’ blood.”

“Aye.”  Mai smiled at him, seemingly pleased he’d say so.

The morning passed without too much trouble though Mai grumbled a few times when they stopped to rest the horses, and her face pained when she was helped down from her mount.

“You can always ride in the wagon for a while if that would help,” Malcolm coaxed when they watered the horses again.

“I am nay infirmed.”

“Aye.”  He couldn’t help but admire the woman.  He didn’t know any lady who was as old as she appeared to be who was such a hardy soul.

Anice leaned over, careful not to dip her hem in the fast flowing water, while she washed her face.  Her blue gown caressed her rounded arse like he wanted to do.  Why wouldn’t she make for a bonnie bride?  When she stood and stretched, he couldn’t help but admire her figure, her pert breasts standing at attention, and her slim waist—

Dougald joined him, grinned and winked, then strode across the rocky bank to the edge of the stream.  “Milady, you seem to be in high spirits today.”  He dipped his hands in the water and splashed it on the back of his neck.

“Aye, that I am.  The closer we draw to the Scot’s border, the happier I am.”

“Aye, I know the feeling.  I heard tell you were looking for a Highland laird to wed but that Malcolm did not appeal.  You said you wished a younger man like Angus, however I wondered how you would feel about a man who is in betwixt the two?”

“Are you offering yourself as a marriage prospect?”  Her cheeks flushed slightly.  She shifted her attention to Malcolm, who stared dumbfounded at his brother’s actions.  Dougald easily won women over, but Malcolm couldn’t believe he would go after Anice.