Seduced by a Rogue (27 page)

“But you forget my cousin Jenny’s husband, Sir Hugh Douglas. If he should apply to Archie
with
my father, might they not all come here to talk to you?”

“Your father doesn’t know you are here, either,” he reminded her.

“He could guess,” she said. “You introduced yourself as Trailinghail’s laird.”

“But I told him…” He realized that although he had told Dunwythie he had only
heard
of Mairi’s abduction and wanted to help if he could, Dunwythie had doubted his sincerity. Rob wondered if he did suspect
Maxell involvement and had hoped to disarm him by saying he would find Mairi himself.

She was still watching him, waiting, so he said, “Sakes, I cannot say what your father may suspect. He gave me no cause to
think he blames any Maxwell for your disappearance. He suggested Englishmen or the Jardines may have taken you.”

Shaking her head, she said, “He would not suspect the English, sir. Why
would
they? So that he might persuade Douglas to leave them in possession of Lochmaben? My father would laugh at such a notion.
As for the Jardines, I cannot think why they’d want me, but you can blame your friend Will for drawing his suspicion.”

“I told you, I don’t know what motives he thinks anyone may have,” he said. “He must have enemies other than the Sheriff of
Dumfries, though, ready to seize on any situation that could aid them in achieving their own ends.”

“Perhaps he does have such enemies,” she said. “But he has not mentioned them to me. Moreover, he has a long reputation as
a man of peace and would, I think, be slow to suspect that he is now at odds with more than one enemy.”

Rob had no quick response, and he did not want to discuss any further the possibility that Archie might take even slight interest
in a matter undertaken to aid the Sheriff of Dumfries. That would not only irk Archie
and
Alex but would create more trouble than anyone wanted. Having hoped only to avoid clan war and perhaps help simplify the
administration of Dumfriesshire and aid his clan in the process, he had certainly made his own life far more complicated than
he had expected.

He did not, however, wish any longer that he had never abducted her.

Mairi watched him, trying to gauge his mood, but when he grimaced and turned toward the open window without saying more, she
could think of nothing to say, either. His posture seemed to suggest that his spirits were low.

In that moment, she could think only of the strong man who consistently showed concern for her, the warrior gentle enough
to enjoy the antics of a kitten and so beloved by his own people that even when they did not approve of what he had done,
they would defend him in the doing.

He was a man to whom she could talk as she could talk to no one else. She could express even her most basic feelings to him.
After spending so many years having to conceal much of what she felt, such freedom was heady, especially as she had had to
become his prisoner before she experienced it.

Although he was quick to criticize, quick to offer advice, and quick to condemn behavior he disliked, he was more self-contained,
intelligent, thoughtful, and gentle than other men she had met. And somehow, she could draw strength from his whenever she
needed it, without knowing how she did it.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was standing right behind him and had reached out a gentle hand to touch his elbow.

He turned, and a moment later she was in his arms.

R
ob held Mairi close. He could feel her heart beating rapidly against him. Everything around them—the bed, the floor beneath
them, the very chamber and the still rainy night outside—flashed fiery images in his mind’s eye as they vanished on a wave
of ecstasy that stirred his body as it had never stirred before. Everything in him, every masculine instinct, every nerve
and sinew, ached to take her to his bed.

For one long delicious moment, he felt as if he were alone in the world with her, as if everything and everyone else had vanished
and nothing mattered but the lass he held and his desire for her. He could do whatever he wanted to do. He was a king in his
castle with the woman he wanted in his arms.

A soft breath escaped her, a tiny sigh of content. And with that trusting sigh came the understanding that he must let his
moment go.

She put a slender hand to his cheek. He gripped it and pressed the back of it to his lips, then turned it and pressed his
lips to its warm, soft palm.

“Prithee, sir,” Mairi whispered softly, trembling against him. “No more.”

“Just this,” he murmured. Taking her beautiful face between his hands, he bent his head, kissed her on the mouth, and felt
her lips come alive beneath his.

He let her go. “Don’t expect me to apologize,” he said. “You are too damnably enticing for your own safety or mine, my lass.”

She stared at him, her soft lips slightly parted, her body still pressed to his.

Furious scratching at the door startled them both, and Rob turned with near relief to admit the kitten. It strolled past him,
tail high, and leaped to Mairi’s bed without so much as a glance at him.

Turning to Mairi with a smile, he said, “Would you believe I was annoyed at first that young Tiggie so quickly showed the
good taste to prefer your company to mine? But now, I swear, I envy the wee devil.” It was the truth, and he was astonished
to realize that he did not mind at all admitting it to her.

She continued to stare at him as if she did not quite know what to say to him. Then she, too, looked relieved. Quietly, she
said, “You should go, sir. In troth, although I must have slept much today, I long to sleep again now. It seemed as if I was
in that cave forever. Is it truly still the same day as when you left?”

“Nay, ’tis a new one. I left here early Tuesday morning and it has now turned to Wednesday. But get you to bed now. We will
talk more after we sleep.”

She nodded, and he left her. But he could not put her out of his head so easily. He wanted her, and the likelihood was that
he could never have her unless he broke his vow to her—and to himself—that he would resist her.

He slept late and broke his fast hastily, feeling a strong need to get outside and away from the tower.

He had dreamed of her. He was sure of it, and the dream had been pleasant, but he could remember none of the details. His
thoughts remained full of her as he went through his usual duties and dealt with the business of Trailinghail.

Although he reminded himself several times that he had said they would talk, other things intervened, one after another, until
he knew he was avoiding her.

The truth was that he could not trust himself anymore just to talk with her.

Mairi slept longer than usual, too. When she awoke to the sound of the kitten scratching in its box of dirt, she saw that
the rain had stopped. And although the sky outside her open window was still cloudy, it showed large patches of blue as well.

Getting up, she donned a robe, slipped her feet into furlined slippers, and went to wash her face. The door opened quietly
as she poured water from the ewer into the basin. Glancing toward it, she saw Annie peeping in.

“Och, good then, ye’re up,” Annie said. “I didna want to wake ye.”

“How is your mother today?” Mairi asked.

“She’s herself again, thank God,” Annie said. “But I’d ha’ come anyway, m’lady.” She paused. “Ye didna say much yestereve
about what happened to ye.”

“Nay, and I’d liefer not,” Mairi said with a slight smile.

“Then ye won’t,” Annie replied. She moved to take a yellow kirtle from one of the kists, then selected a tunic to wear over
it, while Mairi washed her face.

The rest of that day and the next three passed in much the same way. The weather remained uncertain, with clouds billowing
up and either showering the landscape or moving on to shower elsewhere.

Mairi supposed the weather was what kept Rob from inviting her to ride. She doubted he was punishing her, and she missed his
company. He brought up her supper Friday evening but excused himself with other duties the rest of the time.

When he did come up, he brought Gibby with him. Annie was still there, too, so they had no opportunity for private talk.

Saturday morning, as Mairi was wishing they could find such an occasion, she realized she did not know what she would say
to him if they did.

She and Annie were making such swift progress with the piecework that Mairi began to believe her bed would soon have a new
quilt. But she had grown bored enough to ask Rob when he visited briefly Saturday evening—while Annie was still with her—if
they might not go riding the next morning.

“It will probably rain again,” he said.

“We won’t dissolve, sir.”

He agreed, and the following morning he came to escort her to the yard, where three horses awaited them, with Gibby mounted
on the third one.

Noting the absence of their usual gillie, Mairi shot Rob a look.

When he did not meet it, she hid a smile. She had recalled the stern exception Gib had taken to Rob’s presence in her bedchamber
when she had arrived, and the lad’s near threat to tell “Herself.” Clearly, Rob thought Gib stronger protection than a gillie.
It was good, she thought, that Rob wanted to protect her even from himself.

He put her on her horse and saw her settled with reins in hand before he turned to the boy. “Art comfortable enough, lad?”

“Aye, sure,” Gib muttered with a grimace.

“Do you not like to ride, Gibby?” Mairi asked.

To her surprise, he flushed bright red as he gave her a quick nod.

Rob’s lips twitched a little wryly, and he said, “I expect he has not yet told you that he has seen the river Annan and Annan
town, my lady.”

“Sakes, sir, surely you did not take him on that journey!”

“I did not
choose
to take him. He told my helmsman I had given him permission to go. By the time I discovered him, we were in the bay, rowing
for the Firth at the end of an ebb tide. The water was too low to get back to the cave. And to row back to Senwick’s beach
would have meant leaving him on it. Such rarely exposed parts of our beaches can be unsafe, as I think I warned you.”

“So you did,” she said, flashing Gib a sympathetic look as she added, “I hope you were not too harsh with him, sir.”

“Not I,” Rob said.

“The laird made me tell Fin Walters what I’d done,” Gibby said. “And now he’s a-making me ride this horse today. It ha’ been
some few days now, though. So I ha’ nae doots it willna be so bad as it might ha’ been.”

“Aye, well, I need you to protect me from the
laird’s
temper, Gib,” Mairi told him. “He’s none so pleased with me, either, I think.”

Gibby looked ready to ask for details, but Rob intervened before he could.

“I did not invite you along today to listen to you chatter,” he said. “You can follow behind us now. This track is too narrow
for three abreast.”

The boy fell back obediently, whereupon Mairi said quietly, “You were cruel to bring him, sir. Surely, our usual gillie would
have been a better choice.”

“I think you know I brought Gib because he’ll keep his mouth shut about aught we say but will speak up if he disapproves of
aught I do,” he murmured back. “I do wish you would call me Rob when we can talk privately like this.”

“Do you, sir?” she said with a smile.

He shook his head, and they rode for another hour before black clouds billowing in the west again persuaded him to insist
that they return.

It occurred to Mairi only then that he might have had another reason to put off their ride for a few days. Casually, she said,
“Is the knacker still here, sir? That shutter that blew open when I first arrived does not seem to fit properly now. It whistles
whenever the wind blows hard.”

“Dow left Thursday for Dumfries,” Rob said. “But I’ll have a look at that shutter for you later.”

The wind had risen again by the time they reached the yard, and Mairi was glad to get back. They had conversed desultorily
like friends. But the boy’s presence seemed to cast a damper on their usual easy conversation.