Seduced by a Rogue (21 page)

When she did not reply, he said, “Come now, I expected the news that you will soon go home again to cheer you, lass.”

“You ken fine that I do
not
believe that is going to happen,” she said more fiercely than she had intended. But having begun, she went on, “I know my
father well, sir. And do
not
call me ‘lass’!”

He touched her cheek, and his touch stirred the usual warmth through her, despite her annoyance. It did not alter her certainty
that Dunwythie would act as he always did when challenged, however.

Gently, Rob said, “You may know him, Mairi, but I know a few things, too. And when a father has such a daughter as you, believe
me when I say that if he loses her, he will swim the sea or move a mountain to bring her home again. My only regret in this
is that I enjoy your company. That is one more detail I did not anticipate. By my troth, though, I will miss you when you
go home.”

Trying to swallow the ache that crept into her throat at his words, she could not reply. To care about one’s captor was the
act of a fool, and she was no fool.

Every woman knew that most men behaved differently with women than they did with men. In her time at Trailinghail, thanks
to Gib and Annie, she had heard more than one tale of the laird’s short temper, his proven skill with a sword, and his occasional
ruthlessness.

That she had seen little of such traits meant nothing. His certainty that Dunwythie would do as he had predicted was bound
to increase the fury Rob would surely feel when he learned the truth. Then what would he do?

Would he return chastened, ready to take her home simply because, having failed in his undertaking, returning her would be
the right thing to do?

Her inner self sneered at the thought while she fought to retain a calm expression. It was far more likely that he, like so
many other men with volatile tempers, would vent his on the person nearest at hand. She did not fear him, but the fact was
that no one else was going to help her. She would have to help herself.

He was looking at her now much too shrewdly.

“When will you leave?” she asked, only too aware that he often read her expression even when she was sure she had it under
control.

“If that sky sheds its cloudy blanket soon, as it looks like it may, I mean to leave whilst the early tide is stemming up,”
he said, still eyeing her narrowly. “If all goes well and nowt delays me, mayhap I will return tomorrow night on the ebb.”

A flickering frown as he added the last part made her say, “Do you anticipate a delay?” Then, more sharply, “Surely, he will
give you your answer quickly. I shouldn’t think it would take him five minutes to refuse you, although it may take much longer
for him to tell you what he thinks of your
reprehensible
demands.”

“Less of that, if you please,” he said curtly. “I believe I know more than you do about men, just as I am sure that you know
more about how women think than I do. As to what might delay me, I was just wondering if I should tell you.”

“Good sakes, why should you not?”

“Because the news may distress you,” he said just as bluntly. “However, as you will soon be home again and able to add your
mite to any discussions that may ensue there, I expect I should tell you. Sithee, Parland Dow also told me of a row between
your father and Will Jardine.”

“At Annan House?”

“Aye, sure. Dow said he went to Annan House, so one must suppose the land your father ordered Will to keep off was the Annan
property. I expect his lordship meant every Dunwythie estate, though, come to that.”

“I expect he did.” She turned away, dying to ask more but reluctant to say anything to him that might disparage Fiona or make
him think the worse of her.

“Dow said his lordship caught Will with your sister,” Rob said.

Whirling back to face him, she said, “What can you mean by
that
?”

“Easy, lass,” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders.

“Sakes, do you not listen? Not only do you persist in calling me so, but now you address me as if I were a nervous mare,”
she snapped. Hearing the echo of her own words, she pressed her lips firmly together and glowered at his broad chest.

“Then don’t always assume that I mean the worst,” he retorted. “I meant only that I may be able to help. I could speak to
Old Jardine.
He
won’t want mischief between Will and your sister any more than your father does.”

Biting her lower lip, Mairi shut her eyes, wondering at her own angry outburst and knowing that it was directed as much at
Fiona as at anyone else.

It was not the first time in their acquaintance that Rob had wanted to give her a shake or a kiss, or wished he had the right
to do both.

Firmly gripping her chin, he tipped her face up, making her look at him. “Mairi,” he said evenly, “I did
not
mean what you thought I meant.”

“Release me.”

He held her chin, and her gaze. With an audible edge to his voice, he said, “What Dow said, exactly, is that your father told
him he had caught Will sniffing around the lady Fiona and ordered him to stay off his land. Does that answer you?”

She started to nod but found she could not free her chin. Licking her lips, she said, “Aye, sir, it does.
Now
will you release me? You are bruising my chin.”

Stifling a curse, he relaxed his hold and gave her chin a rub with a forefinger, as if he could erase the bruise before it
surfaced. “I’m sorry, lass,” he said.

“I angered you. Again.”

“Nay, you only irked me, and it is not wrong to speak up. I should fetch your supper before we fratch more, though. I’ll bring
mine up, too, if I may.”

Her eyebrows arched upward in an exaggerated way. “
Now
you ask my permission? Good sakes, sir, how is this?”

He chuckled. “Put away your stitching, you unnatural termagant, and wash your face and hands whilst I’m gone. I’ll bring a
game board, too, and chess pieces.”

“’Twould doubtless be wiser for us both to get to bed early,” she said. “I believe the tide will be stemming up about two
hours after midnight.”

“So, you heed the tides,” he said. “You are right.”

“Aye, well, when one has little to occupy one’s time, one does become aware of changes in one’s surroundings. Mark you, I
would not recognize the sounds of rising or falling tides from anywhere but this chamber. However, from here, I can now tell
you without looking how high the water has risen or fallen.”

Chuckling at her air of wisdom, he left her and hurried down to tell a gillie to put their supper on a tray, while he hurried
to his bedchamber to wash and don a clean shirt and doublet. As he tied the cord lacing of the latter, he realized he was
far too eager to sup with her. Annie, he recalled, would not be there.

Going more slowly down the stairs than he had come up them, he took the tray from the gillie who waited with it at the hall
landing. Then, seeing Gibby put a jug on a nearby trestle table, he said, “Gib, leave that and come with me.”

As soon as Rob had gone, Mairi bustled about, thrusting the quilt pieces she had been stitching together into their basket,
then tidying herself and her chamber.

To the voice in the back of her head that wondered why she should care, she retorted that she did not want anyone mistaking
her for a disorderly woman.

She had pulled the little table into place and drawn the stool up to it when footsteps sounded on the stairs. Sitting quickly
on the settle, she strove to look as if she had been relaxing there quietly, if not demurely, since he had gone.

The door opened, and he stepped across the threshold, carrying a laden tray. Pausing, he frowned at the open window. “That
breeze seems to have freshened since I left,” he said.

“Aye, perhaps,” she agreed. “Mayhap more rain is coming.”

Only then did she see Gibby following him. The boy looked at her curiously, even warily, and Mairi realized she must be frowning,
too. She smiled at him and said, “I see that the laird brought you along to protect him from my temper, Gib. He stirred it
earlier, so mayhap now he thinks he needs protection.”

The boy’s expression relaxed. “I ha’ me doots about that, m’lady, but if ye look too fierce at him, I’ll step betwixt ye.
Where be the wee terror a-hiding?”

“Why, I don’t know,” she said. “He may be sleeping behind the bed curtain, or he may have slipped out whilst the door was
open.”

“Look for him later, lad,” Rob said. “Come sup with us now.”

“Cor, sir, I
ate
me supper. As I’m here, I should serve ye, I expect.”

“Nay, I’ll do that,” Rob said. “You take a chicken leg then from the tray, and find your wee terror. He’ll be hungry if you
are not.”

“I can always eat a chicken leg,” the boy said, grinning. “But I’ll share it wi’ him an he behaves himself.”

His hunt for the kitten soon took him onto the stairway.

Mairi said, “If you brought him with you to ensure propriety, sir—”

“Nay, just to remind me of my promise to you,” he said. “I’ll not deny you tempt me, my lady, but I will keep my word. That
the lad could reappear at any moment should be sufficient.”

She smiled, sure she was safe with him. He had made her feel so from the start. That she attracted him was no bad thing. That
he attracted her as well was unfortunate, because she must not let him keep her captive if she could escape. It went right
against nature to let him use her so, or to lead him to think she did not mind. Moreover, if she could escape, it would be
a good lesson to him.

That she even found it necessary to have such a discussion with herself was unsettling, but she liked the man. She could not
say she had liked him from the start, because she had not. Attraction and liking, after all, were different things. But in
the time that she had spent at Trailinghail, despite being his captive, she had come to like him. She could not say, however,
that she understood him.

Even now, he was eyeing her with what looked annoyingly like amusement.

Keeping her tone light, even disinterested, as if she merely made conversation, she said, “Does the knacker stay long?”

He paused with a bite-size chunk of mutton on his knife, halfway to his mouth, and said just as casually, “Oh, a few more
days, I think. He’ll take his meals with Fin Walters and his wife at their cottage, though, as he usually does unless I invite
him to eat with me. I doubt he’ll even be aware that I’ve gone.”

It was all she could do not to gnash her teeth, especially when his eyes glinted and his mouth twitched as if he were now
struggling not to smile or even chuckle. Turning the subject to the weather, rather deftly she thought, she asked if he thought
it
was
likely to rain again before his return.

He said it well might, and they continued to chat until she found herself thinking again how comfortable she felt even when
he disconcerted her as he just had by seeming to know her thoughts. She could so easily say what she wanted without considering
how he might react. If he fired up, she could fire right back at him and naught would come of it except a better understanding.

After he bade her goodnight, though, her thoughts shifted back to his upcoming departure, its likely result, and her own need
to act.

Gibby returned with the kitten in his arms not long after Rob had gone.

Smiling, Mairi said, “I see the two of you have declared a truce.”

“Och, aye,” the lad said. “The wee beast likes to play wi’ string, and I were a-twitching one for him by the hall fire. But
Fin Walters said I should bring him up now, so ye could go to bed. He said ye like to ha’ him with ye in the night.”

She thanked the boy, bade him goodnight, and began to prepare for bed.

As she did, her thoughts returned to her dilemma. Totting up details such as Parland Dow’s presence, Trailinghail’s nearness
to Kirkcudbright and Castle Mains, and her knowledge of the tides, she concluded that if she were careful, and lucky, she
might just succeed in escaping while Rob was on his fool’s errand if only…