Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) (9 page)

BOOK: Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy)
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“Oh,” she mumbled then swallowed
the bite of whey bread she chewed. “I wasn’t allowed to change my attire and … the
caretaker made me wear these garments. I do have belongings and clean garments in
my satchel. I’ll change in the morn.”

“How did you end up at that
asylum?” He waited until she swallowed the food she stuffed in her mouth before
asking again.

“My father didn’t want me at his
keep. He has no use for a daughter, you see, so he sent me there.” To her it
sounded pathetic, but it was the truth, even though it pained her heart to
admit it.

“Have ye caused much trouble then?”

His voice appealed to her. Gruff,
but gentle at the same time, and his burr seemed to caress her everywhere. She
couldn’t help smiling, hearing him.

“Nay, though my father would tell
you differently.”

“You were going to do it, were ye
not?”

She scrunched her eyes,
disbelieving he would ask that. “Do what, my lord?”

“Thrust the blade. I saw you. You
were going to kill yourself.”

“Better to die by my own hand than
face … I don’t wish to talk about it. Thanks to you, I’m safe now and was
unable to go through with it. How is Candace? I miss her so.” She tried to
sound compliant.

Good Lord, she practically stuffed
her face with food. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t a very ladylike
thing to do. She picked a small piece of cheese from the chunk she held, and
nibbled it.

“She’s well, and excited you’re
coming.”

“Thank you.” She raised her eyes
and looked into his.

He grinned. “For what, lass?”

“For coming to retrieve me and for
rescuing me.” It seemed to her that the forest’s sounds suddenly stopped. Everything
stilled in that moment, and the silence became deafening while she waited for
him to say something.

“I promised my sister I would.”

“It was good of you to do so.”

Douglas nodded then stood. “You
rest, Isabel. You look like you could use it. We’ll be on our way in a few
hours.”

“Aye, Laird Kerr.” Isabel lay back
on the plaid. Her hunger mollified, her stomach no longer rumbled. Sleep evaded
her, so instead she watched him, remembering the kiss they had shared so long
ago. She listened to the distant sounds of chirping insects and eventually
couldn’t fight sleep.

Darkness coveted her chant as she looked
into the glass sphere swirling

with molten colors. “Oh, how you wish to
love her, but ye shan’t, warrior.

Eyes look your fill, for it will matter nil.
You will remember me.”

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

Douglas couldn’t get over what
she’d told him. He sauntered to Gil and Brendan. They ate silently, and hadn’t
paid attention to him. He grew still and thought about his misconception. She’d
changed much, and was sweet, gentle, and soft-spoken. Where was the hellion
he’d thought her to be? Why had he though her a hellion? He recalled her yelling
at him, when they first met. Now, she was a troubled lass. He felt guilty for
his assumptions, and he was relieved he was able to get to her before she
killed herself.

His eyes narrowed, and he thought
it bizarre that she was willing to kill herself rather than face being at the
asylum. Aye, she had courage. He’d never met a woman like her. No woman would
go to such extremes to escape such an ordeal, would they?

Brendan shoved him. “Douglas, did ye
hear me?”

“Nay, I was thinking about
something.”

“Is the lass all right? What
happened at the asylum?”

“Aye, she’s well. I talked the
caretaker into letting me have her. I was able to get to her in time.”

“In time? In time for what?”

Douglas ignored him. “Nothing
happened. Now I have to get her safely to Candace, then I can shake my hands of
her.”

“Do you really want to?”

“Of course, I do. What do you mean
by that?” Douglas yelled. She was just rescued from hell itself, and there he
was acting as though he could care less. It didn’t sit well.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re
acting like a priss-arsed page.”

Douglas ignored his remark, even
though he was right. Not many would speak to him in such a way, but Brendan was
his friend, and often reproached him. Brendan only answered to his brother
Colin, and offended many with his coarse manner. Douglas frowned at his flask
before lifting it to his mouth. Brendan continued to hound him for details.

“She seems different. Wasn’t she a
bold lass that screeched at ye?”

“Aye, she’s different. Mayhap she’s
changed, I don’t know why. Who cares?” Douglas grumbled under his breath.

“Aye, let’s rest then.” Gil blurted
it out then laughed.

Douglas wanted to laugh at Gil’s
tone, he obviously tried to get them both to settle down. Mayhap he’d thought a
fight was imminent. Though Gil had broken up many a fracas between him and
Brendan, he probably didn’t want to do so this night—not with the lady present.
Gil shared a look with Brendan. Douglas knew his agitation amused Gil. He hoped
he didn’t show his attraction to the beautiful woman. Aye, he acted as surly as
any man in love.

“Why are you laughing, Gil?”

“Nothing, Laird, I was thinking
about something.”

“What?” Brendan shoved him in a
playful manner.

“Uh, about a lady,” Gil lied.

“You’re too green to be thinking
about lassies,” Brendan teased him, shoving him again.

Gil laughed again then mumbled, “I
was too thinking about a lady, so I didn’t really lie, but I couldn’t tell my
laird that.”

Brendan grinned.

Douglas hadn’t heard them, and
rested beside a tree for the few hours before they forged ahead. He was
thankful Brendan and Gil left him alone. Resigned to his thoughts, he watched
her sleep. She didn’t move at all. She was still a young maiden with a purity
that called forth a gentleman’s chivalry. However, her disposition changed
considerably.

He would never understand women. Hadn’t
he been deceived before? Douglas had thought Morna was a gently-bred woman and
look how she turned out. Nay, this lass was nothing like that harlot. He could
never compare Isabel to Morna.

But how had he been so deluded to
think Isabel was a hellion? She didn’t act as she had before. Her appearance
changed, extremely so, Douglas realized as he watched her from afar. He hadn’t
slept a wink. In the dawning, only a short three hours later, he rose, readying
to leave. It was a day to the border, and he wanted to reach safety quickly. England
never pressed on him as it did now with Isabel present. Maybe he wouldn’t be so
impatient or feel so petulant, once he reached Scotland and safety.

Isabel continued to sleep soundly,
and he asked Gil to awaken her, but Gil walked away before he finished his
command. Damn Gil. Douglas knelt beside her, shaking her shoulder none too
gently.

Isabel woke and smiled. “Are we departing?”

She stared at him, pressing her
lips together, blushing so prettily. The vein pulsing in his neck alerted him
to his impure thoughts.

“Aye,” he whispered.

The cover she’d used slipped below
her waist when she sat up. Douglas glimpsed the curve of her breast beneath the
ridge of her bliaut, and he instantly hardened. His breath ceased, and he
closed his eyes, willing himself to gain control. He moved away before he acted
on the feelings surging through him. He rose, quickly walking away, growing
more indignant by the minute.

Isabel looked lighthearted as she
grabbed her satchel and walked toward a large bush. He was more than affected,
he realized, when he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

This is going to be more
difficult than I thought it’d be.

Douglas waited beside the horses
with Brendan and Gil. What took her so long? Women, he decided, would take as
long as they wanted to, and had no care for those awaiting them. He gave a hard
look at Brendan, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you want me to get her, Laird?”

Douglas didn’t reply, but when Gil
started off toward the brush, he grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. “I’ll
go, stay put,” he snapped.

Gil laughed at him, and he shoved
his shoulder again.

Douglas went toward the bushes, and
before he reached them, Isabel appeared. She wore a green overdress atop a
cream-colored bliaut. An ermine fur-hooded brown cloak surrounded her shoulders
clasped at her throat with a jeweled broach. The bodice of her fitted gown
revealed ample breasts. Lord, she was endowed enough to cause his eyes to stray.
His hand itched to touch her, his eyes moved to her face.
Restraint
, he
reminded himself.

Her glorious hair, pulled into a
coif, gleamed. She must have found a stream and had washed. His breath caught
behind his teeth, and his tongue felt swollen. He just about ceased breathing
altogether. If his heart hadn’t thumped madly inside his chest, he’d wonder if
he’d died and sighted an angel.

The flaming color of her hair held
him spellbound, and her hazel eyes twinkled with mischief. The color of her
garments made her eyes appear even more greenish, and her face cleaned of its
dirt, made her appear younger. Hadn’t she had freckles on her cheeks? Her
flawless skin looked soft. He wanted to pull her in his arms and crush his lips
to hers. The thought of his tongue against hers set his blood to heat.

Aye, this ride home was going to
the longest ride of his life.

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

Isabel was surprised to find
Douglas standing beside the bush when she exited the woods. She watched him
peruse her, smiling widely. His handsomeness held her captive, and she didn’t
want to move. She stared at his six-foot frame, almost a foot taller than she. His
dark brown eyes reminded her of mahogany with a lighter shade surrounding the
rim, with golden flecks sprinkling them. His jaw twitched, and she wanted to
laugh, but she held herself circumspect.

His well-made clothing fit
perfectly, outlining his muscular build. He wore a loosely tied tunic and a
sparse of chest hair peeked from the scoop of the shirt. The tartan wrapped so
neatly around his waist, belted by a thick strap of leather, had an etched
boar’s head on the buckle. She didn’t miss a single detail, taking her time
memorizing every inch of him. Her face returned to his lightly whiskered chin. She
longed to reach out and touch him, but she swore to be coy. If only she could
act on her impulse. His hair glowed with the sun behind his shoulder, making
him appear even more divine and invincible.

She smiled when Douglas finally
pulled himself from his trance, and cleared his throat.

“Lady Calvert, we must go.”

Isabel sighed before answering. “Aye,
I know, Laird Kerr, I’m ready.” What a fabrication! She longed to stand there,
staring at his magnificent form until the sun fell from the sky.

Douglas took her hand, holding it
firmly. His warm skin felt wonderful against hers. He pulled her to his horse,
and assisted her atop. When she was settled, he mounted behind her and looked
at his comrades.

“We near the border. Be on alert.”

Isabel held herself erect and
wouldn’t relax against him. The journey became tiresome. She did long to lean
against him, not because she was tired, but because his hard body beckoned her.
Taking in the scenery before her, she hoped it would offer a distraction. Riding
with him was too inviting. His closeness distracted her—the scenery was but a
blur.

He placed his arm around her,
pulling her against his chest. Isabel gasped when he steeled his arm under her
breasts. The feeling sent a flutter to her belly. Had he thought her tired? She
hoped so. She didn’t want to show her true self, not yet. Playing the demure
lady would be difficult. Isabel hadn’t been demure in years, and she wondered
how she would pull the farce off.

They stopped to rest several hours
later, and Isabel slumped to the ground when Douglas assisted her from his
horse. She’d come up with several ruses to pull along the way to make her
appear more ladylike.

Douglas knelt next to her. “Are you
unwell? Do you need my assistance?”

“Aye, please, I cannot make it over
there.” Isabel pointed to a bush. She colored having to ask for his help, with
his knowing where she was headed and why.

He held her around the waist. They
walked to the bush like lovers going off to have a secret liaison. She sighed,
wishing it were so.

“Are you all right now?”

“Thank you.” Isabel looked at his
face, only a few inches from hers. She breathed deeply, taking in his scent. If
only she could throw her arms around his neck and never let go. Her eyes
crinkled at the thought.

Douglas leaned forward, and seemed
tense or perturbed. She wanted to laugh aloud. Mayhap it was from riding with
her. All he had to do was take her in his arms, but instead, he backed up and
stood silent while waiting for her to move.

When she was well hidden by the
brush, she released her giggle. The man was too easy to fool, yet she wondered
why he hadn’t brought up their previous meeting. Then, she’d been too bold and
she knew he noticed. He hadn’t mentioned her behavior at her uncle’s home, and
so she wouldn’t. After all, it had been two long years since they last saw each
other.

After taking care of her needs, she
limped from the brush and sat on a rock.

Douglas strode to her. “What’s
wrong now, lass?”

“I cannot seem to … my legs are
numb.”

He knelt beside her, pushing aside
the fabric of her gown, and vigorously rubbed her calves. His strong hands
caressed the backs of her legs, making her moan, not because he hurt her, but
because she reveled in his touch. She placed her hand on his shoulder and groaned,
hoping he would think she was sore. His beautiful eyes looked at her, but his
jaw clenched. Warmth seemed to trickle inside her and bubble up, making her
feel giddy.

“Ah, that feels so wonderful.”

Her legs relaxed, and he snapped, “Is
that better?”

“Aye, much.”

Douglas rose and walked away. He looked
at Brendan and Gil, as he passed by and scowled at them. Gil hooted with
laughter, which seemed to make Douglas angry.

“What’s funny now, Gil?” Douglas
asked him.

“Nothing, Laird, just thinking
about that lass again.”

“Stop thinking about that, and set
your mind to protecting your laird.”

Gil solemnly replied, “Aye.”

She didn’t understand why Gil
laughed at Douglas, unless he suspected her trickery. She wondered what lass
Gil referred to, and hoped it wasn’t her. The man was quite nice, and seemed to
be well-liked by his laird, and must have some skill to have been chosen to go
on the trek with Douglas. Still, she needed to befriend him and Brendan if she
would pull off the ploy.

“Let’s go. Brendan, she’ll ride
with you.”

“Really, Douglas?”

“Aye,” he shouted.

He appeared to become more cross by
the minute. She had to keep him on the edge until he admitted his attraction to
her. Isabel kept herself from smiling. And darned if Brendan didn’t sound happy
about her having to ride with him. Gil must have thought it funny, because he
laughed again, and his laughter echoed off the trees.

The men mounted, waiting for her. Isabel
walked toward Douglas, hoping he’d changed his mind, but he shook his head. Brendan
nudged his horse toward her, holding his hand down at her. Isabel’s eyes
widened. Was she supposed to ride with him? Good God, she’d never survive it. She
placed her hand in his, and was yanked up behind him.

His rough demeanor didn’t fool her
for a minute. Underneath his coarseness, Brendan was a gentleman. Though to
look at him, you’d never know. His black hair and steel-grey eyes hid his
gentle spirit. Though she knew Brendan was a toughened warrior, there was
something about him that tugged at her heart, perhaps it was the sadness she
saw in his eyes. She smiled, holding on for dear life. The man rode his horse
as though fire trailed him, and she supposed he had committed enough sins to
fear the fires below. Bouncing around, she thought her head would fall from her
shoulders. Still, she found it comical and almost laughed a few times. Almost.

Isabel rode with Brendan for the
remainder of the day. She hoped that Douglas would take her back on his horse,
but he didn’t seem affected by her riding with Brendan. He looked straight
ahead as if he didn’t have a care about her. How would she attract him now?

She spent the time thinking about
her friend and how happy she would be to see Candace again. The last time was
so sorrowful, what with her father dying. She wished she could have been there
to provide comfort in her friend’s time of need, but now they shall have much
time together.

Isabel was relieved to know she was
well away from England and her father, and especially her brother. Now, she
could find her own happiness and live life without fear. Isabel didn’t need a
warrior’s protection, but Douglas didn’t know that. He would find out sooner or
later.

BOOK: Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy)
11.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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