Highland Thirst (29 page)

“‘Tis
mostly men and old women at Blytheswood now,” Betty pointed out. “And they
should be safe enough for the few days it would take to rescue your cousin.
Then you could escort Lady Lucy safely to court and see Carbonnel cast out of
Blytheswood.”

“Aye.”
Lucy beamed at the maid for her aid and then added, “And Margaret is not a
worry. She is not at Blytheswood to marry. In any case, he would not marry her
until he found me and saw me dead.”

Tearlach
shifted on his feet. “I’d be feelin’ better did ye stay here with William and
his family, oot o’ harm’s way.”

“William
and his family are not staying here,” she pointed out sharply, hurt at his
effort to remove her from his side. “And rather than being safer, I shall
surely just endanger them.”

His
shoulders dropped slightly and she knew she’d won. He would not leave her
behind.

“Verra
well, I cannae leave ye here, but ‘tis findin’ somewhere safe fer ye I’ll be
doin’. Yer no’ goin’ into Rosscurrach dungeons to get me cousin oot.
I’ll
be doin’ that.”

“How?”
she asked sharply. “You do not know how to work the locks.”

“Ye
shall show me,” he said firmly as he turned and mounted Trinket. Once in the
saddle, he glared down at her and then held out a hand. “Come.”

Lucy
rolled her eyes at his bossiness, but placed her hand in his and allowed him to
help her back up into the saddle. This time he settled her sideways in his lap.
He was acting so grumpy and impatient she expected him to set off as soon as
she was settled, instead he paused and turned his attention to the family at
the side of the path.

“I’ll
see Lucy is tae court by week’s end. Dependin’ on how quick yer king acts,
Blytheswood should be free o’ Carbonnel shortly after that. Keep yer ear to the
ground fer news,” he growled to William and his wife and then added, “safe
travels.”

“Aye.”
William nodded. “Safe travels to you too and good luck rescuing your cousin.”

Tearlach
nodded even as he urged Trinket to move. Lucy was forced back against his chest
by the sudden action, then caught herself and sat up, leaning around his arm to
wave to the family they were leaving behind, an action that nearly sent her
sliding from the saddle.

Muttering
something under his breath, Tearlach caught her with one hand and forced her
back into place against his chest.

Lucy
glanced up through her lashes at his expression. Seeing that it was stern and
rather grumpy, she settled against him with a sigh and peered at the passing
countryside, her mind working. She
did
wish to get to court and see
Carbonnel ousted from her home, but it seemed to her that Tearlach’s cousin’s
situation was more critical in importance. Her people were relatively safe for
now, but Heming was being tortured and may die did they not find him and set
him free.

And
, Lucy was
positive that Tearlach would need her help to accomplish that. It wasn’t just
the fact that she knew how to unlock chains. There was also the fact that Wymon
had apparently sent warning on to Rosscurrach that Tearlach had escaped. Surely
they would expect him to try to rescue his cousin and be watching for him? But
they wouldn’t be watching for a woman. Women were rarely thought capable of
anything but breeding. No one at Rosscurrach would expect a woman to slip into
the keep to find the dungeons and free Heming MacNachton. And that was what she’d
come up with. It seemed a perfect plan to her, probably the best possible way
to free the man, as well as the one carrying the least risk with it.

The
more she thought on it, the more positive Lucy was that she was the better bet
when it came to freeing Heming. However, knowing he would resist such a
suggestion, she didn’t mention it to Tearlach right away. He was a proud man
and hadn’t taken at all well to the fact that she’d had to help him escape
Carbonnel. Lucy suspected he wouldn’t take the suggestion of her saving his
cousin any better. She needed to marshal a proper argument that would make him
see sense.

Pride
was a fine thing so long as it didn’t make a fool of you and it was Lucy’s
considered opinion that if Tearlach didn’t let her help, he would be acting the
fool. And for naught. He was huge, strong, and really quite scary now that he
was back to full health. He had no need to prove to her, or—she would think—anyone
else, that he was strong, brave, and capable. The very fact that Carbonnel and
the others had resorted to drugging him and his cousin told her that they hadn’t
thought they would win in a straight battle. He should have nothing to prove,
but she suspected he would want to anyway.

Tearlach
peered down at the woman in the saddle before him. She’d stayed awake most of
the night chatting with him and telling him more tales of her youth, most of
them focusing on her parents. However, she’d begun to doze off an hour ago. She
was now sleeping in his arms, cradled against his chest, and he found himself
scowling as his gaze slid over her. She was so small and defenseless. And he
was apparently the only thing standing between her and Carbonnel at the moment.
Her brother was dead, her home overrun by Carbonnel and his men, and he was now
her only safe haven. Even as he’d suggested leaving her with William and his
family, Tearlach had known he couldn’t. The stableman couldn’t have stood
against Carbonnel’s army should she have been found out and, despite the
suggestion, he wouldn’t have left her with him. Tearlach would not trust anyone
with the chore of guarding her but himself...or perhaps one or two of his clan
members. His people were faster and stronger and would fight to the death for
her if necessary. As would he. The little slip of a woman had saved his life,
freeing him from his chains and pretty much dragging him out of those dungeons.
She was also smart, sweet, and spirited and he had no trouble with the idea of
laying down his life for her.

He’d
rather not, of course, but would if it became a necessity. Tearlach decided he
would have to keep her with him until he could see Heming freed from
Rosscurrach. Once that deed was accomplished, he would then escort her safely
to court and then...

Tearlach
frowned at the “and then” part. He supposed the “and then”
should
be
that he and Heming would continue their information gathering for the clan,
although they had most likely learned enough that that was no longer necessary.
That being the case the “and then” should probably be that he gather with his
clan members, decide what their next move should be, and help carry it out.
Unfortunately, that left Lucy out and he found himself reluctant to leave her
out of his future. He’d grown rather used to having her around and wasn’t
enjoying the prospect of the day when she would no longer be there.

Of
course, he knew that day would come. Now that her brother was dead, she was the
mistress of Blytheswood while he was the only child of Eva and Connall MacAdie
and as such, heir to MacAdie castle with responsibilities there.

Despite
these grim considerations, Tearlach found himself smiling faintly at the
thought of his mother and father. A more unlikely pair you’d never imagine. His
mother, Eva MacAdie, was fair and English, his father, Connall MacAdie, was
dark and Scottish. She was a charming, cheerful birdlike woman, constantly
bustling here and there. He was stern and solid and rarely seemed to smile
except when in his wife’s presence.

Rather
like he and Lucy, Tearlach acknowledged to himself. Anyone meeting them would
think they were opposites also and yet they worked well together.

Dangerous
thoughts those, he acknowledged to himself. He and Lucy could not—

His
thoughts scattered as Lucy murmured sleepily in his arms and shifted to press
her face into his chest. Tearlach peered over her features soft in sleep, his
sensible side suddenly going silent in the face of the rush of longing that
rose up within him at the thought of waking every morning to have her cradled
in his arms, her expression that same sleepy contentment. The idea was not
something he’d ever even thought he wanted, but it now lured him like a siren’s
song.

Sighing,
he forced himself to look away. He lifted his gaze to the sky and his eyes
narrowed. To someone who didn’t live in perpetual night, it would probably look
as if it were still pure night, but Tearlach lived in darkness. He knew it in
all its nuances and knew that though it appeared to still be full night, dawn
was coming. In fact, she would be streaking the sky with fingers of morning
light right then if it weren’t so overcast. Only the dense cloud cover kept it
so dark.

His
gaze dropped to their surroundings, searching for markers that would tell him
how far they were from the cave and he relaxed as he spotted the shine of water
ahead. They’d arrived at the riverside clearing where he’d planned for them to
take shelter that evening. His eyes slid to the sky again, noting that it was
just a bare shade lighter than it had been. By his guess they had just enough
time to let Trinket drink water from the river and clean up a bit themselves
before the sun burnt off a good portion of the cloud cover and they had to take
cover in the shelter. At least
he
had to. Lucy had no need to hide from
the sun; he on the other hand...

The
steady roll of the moving horse had lulled Lucy to sleep. The end of that
movement was what woke her. Shifting sleepily, she lifted her head from
Tearlach’s chest and peered around with bleary eyes that suddenly cleared and
widened when they fell on the river in front of which Tearlach had brought them
to a halt.

“Where
are we?” she asked, her eyes caught on the water’s glistening surface. Dark as
it was, the surface seemed to be catching what little light was available and
reflecting it like a mirror.

“By
a cave I ha’e used before. We can rest here fer the day and then continue on at
night fall.”

Lucy
nodded absently, but she hadn’t really heard what he’d said, every iota of her
attention was focused on the water before them. Between the filthy clothes they
were wearing and all that they had endured the last several days, the idea of a
bath was like the dream of a sweet to a starving person. She couldn’t seem to
even focus on anything else.

A
soft breath on her ear and the contraction of his stomach at her back as he
chuckled managed to distract her and bring her questioning glance up to his
face.

“We
ha’e a little time ere the sun rises fully, why do ye no’ bathe in the river
while I unsaddle Trinket?”

Lucy
slid off the mare, a smile stretching her lips so wide it almost hurt. She
could already feel the water washing away the filth coating her body.

Leaving
Tearlach to tend the mare, she rushed to the river’s edge and reached for the
waist of her braies, and then paused to glance over her shoulder. Tearlach had
dismounted and now stood with his back to her as he unsaddled Trinket. Not
exactly proper, but he was offering her all the privacy he could under the
circumstances.

Straightening
her shoulders, Lucy turned back to the water and quickly pushed down the pants.
The scrape of the material, stiff with filth from both herself and their
previous owner made her grimace and pause again. Really, her tunic and braies
needed cleaning as much as she did and it would be such a shame to bathe and
then have to climb back into the filthy clothes. The very idea was really rather
disgusting.

Lucy
shifted from one foot to the other and then stepped out of the braies and
snatched them up. Still wearing the tunic and jupon, she then marched into the
river, gasping as the cool water closed around her feet, then her ankles, then
her calves...She kept moving forward until she was in up to her waist, then
pinched her nose closed with the finger and thumb of her free hand and
submerged herself under the water.

Hoping
that the full body dunking would help her adjust to the cold more quickly, Lucy
stayed under until her lungs forced her back up. Eyes squinted shut and
sputtering and gasping for air, she stood up abruptly in the water.

A
curse made her blink her eyes open. They then widened as she found Tearlach
before her in the water, still fully clothed.

“What’s
wrong?” she asked with concern as she noted the anger on his face.

Tearlach
opened his mouth, closed it on whatever he’d been about to say, then tried
again. “Ye disappeared,” he pointed out shortly and when she simply stared back
with confusion, added, “I heard ye splashin’ and gaspin’ about the water being
cold and then silence. When I turned around ye were gone. I feared there may be
a current here or someone or something had dragged ye under.”

Lucy’s
eyes rounded with surprise as she realized he’d come charging into the water to
save her. Her disappearance had given him a scare. She could still see the
remnants of fear in his eyes, and he was panting slightly, his chest rising and
falling rapidly from his rush to save her.

“You
were worried about me,” she whispered with amazement and saw annoyance flicker
on his face.

“O’
course I was worried about ye, ye daft woman,” he snarled with irritation. His
eyes, however, were speaking of other feelings. They had dropped away from her
face, sliding down over her shoulders and chest with something like hunger.