Chapter Nine

Rose’s head bobbed on her shoulders, jerking her awake once again. She looked around her surroundings. They had slowed their pace, and the horse was now picking its way carefully through the thick trees and underbrush.

“Are we close?” she asked, patting his hand to get his attention. Then she gasped. His hands were freezing cold. And she could detect a faint tremble when she took his hand in hers.

“We must stop,” she said. “I think you are losing too much blood.”

“Aye, we’ll stop soon. A bit of a rest wouldna be amiss,” he said. “The horse could use one too, I’m sure.”

He tried to make his voice light, but she could hear the weariness.

“Where are we?”

“There is a place we can go, not too far ahead. We’ll stop there and rest for a few hours. We are but a couple hours from Kirkenroch now but I dinna wish to arrive dragging a dead horse and half-dead maid.”

Rose rolled her eyes at that. “You’ll be the one half dead if I don’t get your arm properly bandaged. Why didn’t you stop earlier once we were out of danger? Foolish man.”

He chuckled, but the weary sound didn’t ease the anxious tumbling of her stomach.

They reached a clearing where the burned-out remains of a cottage was hidden among the shrubbery. It was beautiful in that hauntingly sad way ruined dwellings had.

“What is this place?” she asked.

William brought the horse up to a crumbling wall and dismounted. He reached up to help her slide down, keeping his arms about her when she stumbled. Her legs were numb from sitting astride the horse for so long, and she stretched, groaning at the crack in her back. William smiled and turned to loosely tie the horse at the wall, giving him enough lead to graze.

“This used to be the gamekeeper’s cottage. I came here often as a child. It’s a good place to be alone with your thoughts.”

Rose cocked an eyebrow at that.

“What?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You don’t seem like an overly thoughtful sort of person.”

He gave her a mock glare, and she laughed. He took her hand to lead her inside. “I have four sisters,” he said. “Trust me when I say, having a quiet place to escape to was priceless.”

Rose nodded and looked around. “It’s beautiful here. What happened to it?”

“I dinna ken. It happened a long time ago. Maybe in one of the skirmishes with the Campbell clan over the years.”

Rose looked back at him sharply. “Are they still a threat?”

William frowned for a second but then shook his head. “No. After Ramsay’s attack on Glenlyon, Malcolm and the Campbell chief made a truce. Between that and Malcolm’s marriage to Campbell’s daughter, the fighting has ceased. It’s an uneasy alliance, but I think most are weary of fighting. It’s been going on for centuries.”

Rose raised another eyebrow at that. “What on earth did they fight over?”

William shrugged again. “Pretty much anything and everything that could possibly be fought over. Let’s get inside and then I’ll answer all yer questions.”

She noticed anew the pallor of his face and nodded, ashamed she’d kept him outside talking when she should have been tending his arm.

William went in ahead and made sure the space was safe and unoccupied before ushering her inside. The interior wasn’t much different than the first encampment they had been in with Ramsay. The cottage was little more than a stone floor and four walls. Despite the damage, it was whole for the most part, and once he had a small fire going it proved to be quite cozy.

“You must let me attend your arm,” she said. William tried to wave her off but she scowled and grabbed his good arm. “You won’t be any good to me or anyone else if you pass out from blood loss or lose your use of that arm. Sit down and quit being so stubborn.”

He snorted at her but did as she bid. She clucked over him for a few minutes, peeling off the blood-soaked bandage that she had hastily wound about his arm and pulling open the shredded remains of his sleeve to reveal the wound. Parts of the cloth stuck to the wound, and she removed them as carefully as possible. An action she immediately regretted as it pulled at the scabs that had begun to form and started the bleeding anew. Thankfully, it was less than before.

She took the waterskin and ripped a strip of linen from her petticoat and then carefully cleaned the wound as best she could. He hissed through his teeth a few times but held still through her ministrations. Once it was clean, she ripped another strip from her petticoat and wound it carefully around his arm, tying it tight enough to keep pressure on the wound but not so tight that he wouldn’t be able to use his arm.

“Try not to get wounded again. I’m running out of petticoat.”

He laughed and rested his head against the wall. Rose gathered up the bloody cloths. “I, um…I never thanked you,” she said.

William looked at her in surprise. “For what?”

“For saving my life.”

He stared at her and then said, “Yes, well, I’ve heard the Lady Alice is quite demanding. I didna wish to be on the wrong end of her tongue should I have to inform her that her favorite maid had been killed on my watch.”

Rose scowled, though her lips twitched with amusement.

“Besides which, I owe ye safe passage while ye’re with me, since ye didna come with me willingly.”

“Ah yes,” she said softly. “I’ll never forgive you for that, you know.”

“Good. I deserve no forgiveness.”

His voice was quiet, but harsh enough she flinched, though she knew it was not directed at her. Unsure of how to respond, she turned her attention back to his arm. She carefully cut the rest of his sleeve away. It was a shame to do, but the shirt was ruined in any case, and the fabric would be useful for further bandages. Perhaps she could add a new sleeve once they arrived at Kirkenroch if there was anything left of the shirt to salvage.

Finally, she said, “Well, owed or not, I thank you. I appreciate not being dead.”

He laughed at that, and her stomach chose that inopportune moment to grumble loudly. His grin grew wider.

“Well I canna do much to make your accommodations more comfortable, but I can maybe do something about that.”

He pushed away from the wall and went to the saddlebags. He rummaged through them before finally pulling out a few rock-hard oat cakes and handing one to her. She looked at it dubiously, and he chuckled again.

“It’s no’ so bad,” he said. “Gnaw on it for a bit. It’ll soften up.”

“Actually, I might be able to do a bit better.”

She went to her satchel and pulled out half a loaf of bread and two small apples that she had managed to grab from Ramsay’s table.

“Verra nice,” he said.

“Bread, apples, and bricks. That should keep us going until we reach Kirkenroch.”

He laughed again and took a bite of his bread.

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, and her weariness again crept over her. She didn’t want to sleep. She was afraid to close her eyes. Afraid when she opened them, enemies would be at their door. Or worse, they’d both fall asleep but William would never awake. His arm didn’t look too bad, but she wasn’t sure. She’d never dressed a knife wound before. It most likely needed to be stitched closed, but she had no sewing supplies with her. It would have to wait until they reached Kirkenroch. Which meant he needed to last until they got there.

“Tell me more about the Campbells and MacGregors,” she said. “They don’t get on well, it seems?”

William snorted. “That’s an understatement, lass. Campbells and MacGregors dinna get along, over anything. They have fought for centuries over land, slights—imagined and otherwise—stolen women, damaged property. Any and every excuse. But,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall again, “when the king ordered Malcolm to marry Sorcha, the daughter of the Campbell chief, that forced a truce. Ramsay, of course, chose not to honor that and paid the price for his betrayal of his father and clan.”

“And this is why he hates the MacGregors so passionately?” she asked.

“Aye. That and the fact that my kinsmen were responsible for the dismantling of his smuggling empire and theft of his betrothed. According to him. The Lady Elizabet insists she never would have wed the knave.”

“Did Lady Elizabet really leave everything behind to wed a highwayman?”

“Aye. Quite against the highwayman’s wishes, I might add.”

Rose smiled. “It’s quite romantic, I think.”

“Aye, ’tis. But dinna tell Laird John I said so.” William gave her a little half grin that sent her stomach flipping.

“Come,” he said, throwing his apple core into the corner. “We can get a few hours rest before dawn. I dinna ken how ye feel, but I could use it.”

Rose hadn’t wanted to complain. After all, they were on the run for their lives and were trying to save their friends. Comforts like sleep didn’t matter in such circumstances. But despite her fear, her body, at least, craved a few moments of rest.

He made her a small pallet in the corner using a blanket he pulled from one of the saddlebags. It certainly wasn’t the most comfortable bed she had ever slept on, but she was warm and dry. And if she wished that a certain Highland rogue would lie by her side and keep her company, it was only because she’d grown used to his presence while she slept. And so she’d have something softer on which to pillow her head than the stone beneath her. Nothing more.

Liar!

…

William sat near the door, keeping watch while Rose slept, a gentle snore erupting from her every now and then. He tried to keep his thoughts on what they would do once they reached Kirkenroch, and away from the ever-present guilt that plagued him whenever he looked at Rose.

He couldn’t do anything right. It was why he had jumped to volunteer when John and Philip had needed someone to spy on Ramsay. William had messed up everything he had tried to do, starting from the first job that he’d been given with his kinsmen. He’d ridden with John and his highwaymen crew. And he’d been arrogant and over-confident, despite it being his first time. He hadn’t been in the saddle with them an hour when he’d accidentally shot Lady Elizabet.

And then, when he was supposed to be keeping guard while the men were watching Ramsay at the lady’s estate, he had left his post to relieve himself, which allowed the Lady Elizabet to sneak past him. When he’d discovered her and tried to confront her, she’d nearly knocked him cold with a well-placed fist to his right cheek.

He was tired of feeling like a useless bumbling idiot around the highly trained warriors of the MacGregor clan. He had thought he’d finally found something he was good at. He could be the eyes and ears for the clan, watch Ramsay, become a trusted member of his gang, and warn his kinsmen when Ramsay finally decided to attack. Instead, he’d never fully gained Ramsay’s trust, and then he’d gone and kidnapped an innocent maid. Which had not only ruined the plans Lady Alice had so carefully put into place but alerted Ramsay to Philip’s whereabouts. And he’d brought Rose into danger. And through his actions, possibly led Ramsay straight to Laird John and his lady.

The only thing he could do that would make up for his shortcomings was to get to Kirkenroch in time and warn everyone that Ramsay was on his way. Even still, he felt a failure because he hadn’t been able to gather as much information as he needed to truly prepare his clansmen. Yes, they knew Ramsay was on the way, and he had some idea about the size of his crew and their provisions. But he couldn’t truly know exact numbers or even an exact date because once again he had failed.

Just like he had exposed Rose to more danger. He did not regret killing Lionel. He’d been a dangerous man, and the act had removed one of Ramsay’s most trusted lieutenants. More than that, the man had looked to assault Rose. William would have done much worse to him had she come to true harm.

As he would for any lady.

He sighed, knowing in his heart of hearts that his reaction had been spurred by the despair and terror he’d felt at seeing Lionel menacing Rose.

He watched the sky. They’d need to leave soon. The urgency to get back on the road grew. He must warn his kinsmen. But he couldn’t bring himself to wake Rose yet. Shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes, and she slept fitfully, her teeth chattering against the cold.

But at least she slept. He ached to lie beside her. To share his warmth, make her a little more comfortable. But he dared not let himself touch her. He tried to tell himself that the urge to wrap her in his arms was simply guilt from the situation in which he had put her. But even he didn’t believe that.

Rose woke with a quiet gasp and sat upright, quickly glancing about the room.

“I’m here, lass,” he said quietly and couldn’t help the warmth that flowed through him when her shoulders sagged with relief at his voice.

She crawled over to him. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I thought you were supposed to be resting.”

“I am. But I must also keep watch.”

“Will Ramsay come this direction?”

His heart clenched at the fear in her voice. “It’s possible. But I wouldna think so. There are other, easier routes to Glenlyon, and he doesna ken the way to Kirkenroch or even that it exists. Plus, he’ll be traveling with a large group. He willna wish to travel the main thoroughfares, but I can’t imagine he would seek out such an out-of-the-way trail as this.”

She nodded, and William sent up a quick prayer that he was right.

“But,” she said, her forehead creased in thought, “he might not be traveling with such a large group. Remember the men who have been separating from us throughout the trip.”

“Aye, ye’re right,” Will said, frowning.

“Oh! I never showed you!” She jumped up and went to her satchel, pulling out her apron.

“Ye wished to show me yer apron?” he asked with a laugh.

“Yes.” She carefully unfolded it to reveal several smudges.

No…not smudges. He sat forward to get a closer look. X marks.

“What are these?” he asked.

“It’s from the map in Ramsay’s tent,” she said, excitement in her voice. “I think this is Glenlyon.” She pointed to the large X near the top. “And these could be where he’s been sending the small groups of men. See how they surround the large X?”

“Aye. It could be.” Excitement flooded him. Finally! Real information that might actually make a difference.

“You should get some sleep before we go,” Rose said. “I can keep watch.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be all right. Get some more rest.”

“I’ve rested.”

He opened his mouth to argue again, and she held up her hand. “I’ve slept as much as I’m going to. If you are going to be stubborn and refuse to sleep, then we might as well be on our way.”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to intimidate her into obeying him, though he knew that was a lost cause. She simply crossed her arms and stared at him.

“Fine. Have it yer way then.”

She grinned and quickly gathered their things, once again taking care to store the apron in the satchel where it would be safe from the elements. She slung the satchel over her shoulder and put her hands in her pockets, only to jerk her head up in outraged shock.

“Damn you, William!”

He chuckled and ducked out of the doorway, her dagger safely in his waistband.