Conall: The 93rd Highlanders, Book Two (2 page)

“
Come on,”
she called out.

“
Who is it?”
a man asked. Conall felt a burst of unreasonable anger. Mrs. Scott
did laundry and cooked for a number of the men in the 93rd, and
even other Highland regiments. But this voice sounded far too
proprietary for Conall’s liking. Had she taken up with someone
while he’d been gone, cooling his heels in the hospital at Scutari?
So close and yet so far from Mrs. Scott. Had he lost his chance to
be with her? For the hundredth time he cursed the Russian bullet
that had laid him low at Balaclava.

He ducked into the hut,
his hand on his sporran, but came up short when he saw the
occupants. They were as arrested at the sight of him. It was
Captain Munro with her. He had saved Conall’s life at Balaclava.
Mrs. Scott spoke first, her voice breaking slightly, not the
practical tones he remembered so well.

“
Lieutenant
Fletcher,” she said. “You’re back.” She smiled, and it was a
tremulous, beautiful thing. Her thick blonde hair was escaping its
black bonnet and her blue eyes looked a little bruised and weary.
She was a bonnie lass to him, and always had been, but he wasn’t
blind. Hard work and a hard life had made her rough around the
edges, perhaps a little older than she ought to be. Conall grinned
back.

“
Aye, I am.”
He shook his arm, the one that had been shot. “Hale and
hearty.”

“
And a stone
lighter,” she chastised, brushing her hands off on the apron she
wore over a heavy gray coat. “Didn’t they feed you?”

“
Fletcher,”
Munro said in greeting. “I didn’t know you were coming
today.”

“
I didn’t
either,” Conall admitted. “I caught a wagon coming this way from
Scutari last week. I figured I’d arrive before a letter. Hamish
came with me.” He looked over at Munro as he spoke. In addition to
saving Conall’s life at Balaclava, he’d interceded on his behalf a
dozen times in the past few months, showed him through words and
deeds what was expected of him here, and how to stay alive. And yet
Conall felt as though the older, taller dark-haired Scot was a
stranger. He’d never let Conall in, never shared his past or his
laughter. He was a gruff, kind mystery who had always watched
Conall with an uncomfortably intense gaze.

Munro nodded, unsmiling.
He reached down and picked up his forage cap. “It’s good to see
you,” he said, his tone flat and emotionless. “I’ll take my leave,
then. Good afternoon, Mrs. Scott.” His behavior now made Conall
think he’d imagined other things at Balaclava, like the captain’s
anguish at Conall’s injury, and the heat between them. He was glad.
The idea of what it meant had worried him while he was
away.

She nodded without
looking at Munro. “Good afternoon, Captain.”

Conall caught Munro’s arm
as he passed. “Thank you again for saving my life.”

Munro shrugged. “It was a
happy coincidence.”

“
No, it
wasn’t,” Conall said, shaking his head. “If you hadn’t shoved me
out of the way, that bullet would have gone through my heart and
not my arm, and we both know it.”

“
Yes, but I
wasn’t shoving you out of the way of the bullet,” Munro said
patiently. “I was just shoving you.” He tipped his hat. “Good
afternoon.” He stepped out of the hut and quietly closed the
door.

When they were alone Mrs.
Scott turned her back to Conall, bustling about. “Are you hungry,
then? Fare is scarce these days. This winter is killing us faster
than the Russians.”

“
I missed
you,” Conall blurted. “Thought about you. Are you getting on all
right? Has someone been taking care of you?” Worry for her had kept
him up at night, chafing at the bit to return to camp, to make sure
she was all right. Ever since September when her husband had died
at the Alma she’d struggled along, taking in wash and cooking for
the pittance the soldiers could pay her. He’d been sharing his own
provisions with her before he fell at Balaclava.

She froze for a moment
and then spun to face him. “And is that what’s been worrying you?
That someone else has been taking care of me?” She seemed angry,
though Conall couldn’t imagine why.

“
I hoped
someone was,” he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. He wanted her warm
and fed, but he didn’t think he’d take the news of a lover well.
“Is it Munro?”

“
Is it
Munro,” she repeated his words with an inflection he couldn’t
decipher. “Well, now, I won’t lie, I was hoping it would
be.”

Conall felt the color
drain from his face. He’d wanted to be the one. Surely she knew
that? “If that’s what you want, then I’m sure he’ll do the right
thing,” he forced out of a tight throat.

“
No, the
captain is too honorable for that,” she said mockingly. “He’ll
plant himself in front of my hut like a thorn bush, driving every
other prospect away, but he won’t take advantage of a poor widow.
His words, of course. I’d never call myself that.” She made a face.
“As though I was a charity case.” She crossed her arms militantly.
“And what of you?” she demanded. “Are you come on the same errand?
Or are you going to finally make me your woman? You went and got
yourself shot and I thought you were going to die, you bastard. And
then you come back and want to know if I’m all right.” She sniffed
and turned away. “I’m getting on. There? Feel better?”

“
Mrs. Scott,”
he began placatingly, not sure what to say. Did she want him or
Munro? Or anyone? For the first time he wondered if she’d take him
for protection even if her heart wasn’t engaged. He knew beyond a
shadow of a doubt that wasn’t what he wanted.

“
Avril,” she
said softly. “I’d like to hear someone say my name. It’s been so
long.” She still wasn’t looking at him.

Avril.
He hadn’t known her Christian name. It fit her.
Some might say such a lyrical name was misplaced on the practical,
handsome Mrs. Scott, but not Conall. There was beauty in her
strength, a song of Scotland in her voice. “Avril,” he said
quietly.

She spun around to face
him. “Conall.” She said his name for the first time and it tripped
off her tongue with the kind of longing he’d often dreamed of. She
came to him then, first untying her bonnet and letting it fall to
the small cot against the back wall of the hut.

Avril watched Conall
warring with something inside him. She didn’t want to give him time
to think that hard. She needed a man. Not just to protect her, but
in her bed. She missed it. Missed the closeness of it, the kisses,
the joy, the pleasure of it. She was a woman who enjoyed the sexual
act, something her late husband had appreciated. But she knew there
were men who didn’t, who thought it wasn’t a woman’s place. Avril
wanted none of that. Best to know where he stood now.

She walked briskly over
to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked shocked, but
then she sealed her lips over his and couldn’t see his expression
anymore. He felt as good as she’d thought he would all these long
months. He’d been coming around since almost right after Tom’s
death, sniffing around her skirts. He was younger than she, and she
felt a fool for even trying to seduce him. He was bonnie and braw
with his red hair and broad shoulders, brave and kind, and the few
lasses here gazed after him with the same sort of longing she felt,
but she’d tried hard not to show it. She wouldn’t be one of those
silly girls. That wasn’t what he wanted from her.

She had to go up on to
her toes to kiss him properly. His beard was a soft, curly bush
against her chin, warm and soothing. She’d been cold for so long,
it seemed. Everything about him made her feel warm from the inside
out. His arms went tight around her waist and he pressed his mouth
against hers. She waited for him to deepen the kiss, but he just
held her tighter. It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t sure
what to do with her. She almost wept with frustration. God love
them both, he was the innocent here. She’d never felt her years
more.

She licked his lips,
sliding her tongue between them, praying he’d understand. She was a
practical woman, but she wasn’t sure she was up to explaining the
facts of life to Conall Fletcher. To her utter relief he opened his
mouth and she licked into the heat of him. He was breathing heavy,
and even though she couldn’t feel him through their layers of
clothes she could tell he wanted her. She nearly shouted for joy.
He took control of the kiss almost immediately, a fast learner it
would seem. He tasted her like she was the finest wine and for once
Avril felt like it, like she was worth savoring. It had been so
long since she’d felt this way, like a woman and not a
drudge.

It was over too soon.
Conall stiffened in her arms and pushed her away. “I can’t,” he
said, panting. He shook his head. “It isn’t right.”

Avril had still been
pliant in his hands, but at his words she became as stiff as he.
“Let go,” she demanded harshly. He yanked his hands off her arms
and took a step back. “How no?” she asked, dreading his answer. Had
she been too forward? She didn’t like the weight that settled in
her stomach at the thought of showing the young lieutenant the
door. She’d liked him, she had.

“
Because it’s
as Munro said,” he answered, surprising her. “I feel like I’m
taking advantage of you, Avril. A woman alone, a widow, no way to
protect yourself. You needn’t do this to have my protection. You
know that, don’t you?”

She growled in
frustration and scooped her bonnet up off her measly, cold cot.
“Oh, yes, I know. And no good woman would want to bed you, is that
it?” She growled again and shook her fist at him. “You and the
captain. Well, I’ve had enough of casting my pearl before swine.
The two of you just go ahead and ‘protect’ me,” she said with a
sneer. “And while you’re doing that, don’t be minding me out there
looking for a man to warm my bed.”

“
Avril,” he
said sharply, and she spun around to face him, stopping his
words.

“
Don’t be
calling me that,” she snapped. “You don’t get that right now. You
just threw it away. It’ll be Mrs. Scott to you unless you come to
your senses. And if you do, you better hope it’s not too late.” She
held open the door. “Out with you. I’ll bring you something to eat
and you can freeze your arse off eating it out there.”

“
Did you make
the same offer to Munro?” Conall asked angrily, ignoring her
dismissal.

She sniffed regally. “And
if I did?”

Conall stalked over and
took her by the arm, and even angry as he seemed, he didn’t hurt
her. “Don’t throw words at me,” he growled, his delicious burr
raising goose bumps on her skin. “Tell me true. Did
you?”

“
Yes, she
did.” The captain ducked into her hut again. “Close the door,” he
ordered her. Without a thought to disobeying that tone, Avril did
as she was told. Munro looked between her and Conall, a scowl on
his usually unreadable face. “You’re making a spectacle of
yourselves,” he growled. “I’m not the only one who heard what was
going on in here.”

Avril had a bit of
trouble breathing, surrounded by the two big Highlanders. One ruddy
and dark and tall, the other bright and big, and both angry. She’d
never seen two men who wore the kilt and scarlet jacket so well.
Conall still had a hand on her arm, and the captain grabbed the
other.

“
Let her go,”
he ordered Conall. But Conall wasn’t as quick to obey as she’d
been.

“
No,” he said
clearly. “It’s you who needs to be taking your hands
off.”

The captain couldn’t have
looked more shocked if the queen had walked into the hut. “What did
you say, boy?”

“
I’m not a
boy,” Conall growled. “Did you dishonor her?”

“
What?” Avril
ground out. “I’m just after telling you he didn’t.” She drove her
shoulder into his chest and shoved him away, forcing him to let go
of her. Then she did the same to the captain. “Neither of you is
wanting to ‘dishonor’ me,” she said sarcastically. “I’m wishing
someone would ask my opinion of it, then, aren’t I?” She pushed
them both toward the entrance. “Both of you, outwith. Now.” When
they were both out in the cold she stood there, arms akimbo, and
glared at them. “And don’t be coming back unless you’re ready to
give me what I need.” With that, she stomped back into the hut and
yanked the flimsy door closed behind her. “And you’ll be going
hungry too,” she called behind her, not caring who
heard.

Graeme looked at the
gray, dirty door, closed as firmly as any gate in his face. It had
only been a matter of time. As long as it took for Conall to
return, actually. He’d always known that. It was why he’d said no
to her repeated offers. He glanced over at Conall, who stood next
to him, breathing heavily and glaring first at the hut and then at
him. She’d always been for Conall, and Graeme had kept her safe for
him. Even safe from himself.

“
What
happened while I was gone?” Conall demanded in a low, furious
voice.

“
Nothing,”
Graeme said simply. He hoped Conall wouldn’t get insubordinate out
here. He couldn’t let it go if he did, not like he had inside the
tent.