Chapter Seven

They still had a good distance to go before they reached the inn where Finlay usually stopped for the night, but so far, nothing about this trip had been typical. Although the sky had been dark all day, they’d managed to outrun the rain. But he hadn’t overcome the sense that someone was tracking them. He’d pulled the men aside and told them of his apprehensions, but as of yet, no one had seen anything suspicious.

He’d enjoyed how close his wife had sat next to him as they’d eaten at their last stop. Maybe tonight, he would finally feel what it was like to be with Blair. He still couldn’t believe she had married him. She must have known she’s expecting—her appetite this afternoon had indicated she was eating for more than one. He had seen the deliberation in her eyes when she’d considered taking what he’d offered of his remaining food, but her pride had gotten in the way. He’d almost confided that he knew her secret, but he needed to know she trusted him, and would wait for her to bring the news to him.

He hoped she would one day feel comfortable in front of him and tell him everything. He had wished she’d continue her chatter from this morning again as they traveled, but she seemed to be tired. Tonight, he’d ask how she was feeling to see if they needed to slow their pace. Despite the rush to get to England, he had to look out for her health.

Relieved to see the ridge in the next hill, which indicated they would be arriving at the next inn shortly, his thoughts turned to the evening ahead. His mouth went dry as he envisioned his wife naked and beside him in a warm bed. He wanted to know what her skin might feel like beneath him and wished for the sensation of her lips once again pressed to his.

Aware of the growing desire between his legs, he shifted in his seat.

Hedwynn let out a high-pitched squeal then bucked. He almost lost his seating, but on instinct, he eased, placing a steadying hand on the center of the saddle, loosening on the reins, and repeating, “It’s all right,” to the steed.

His horse had never acted in such a manner. Once he was able to calm the beast, he slid from the saddle onto the ground. The animal let out another small squeal but didn’t try to forcibly remove him this time.

“What’s wrong?” he crooned as he stroked the horse’s neck, and it groaned as if relieved. He recalled when he’d climbed on the steed’s back as they’d left the last inn, it had shuddered slightly under his weight.

Going on a hunch, he slid his hand under the saddle. Nothing. Sliding his hand around and under the edges, at the rear, his hand hit something wet. Pulling back, he saw bits of crimson on his fingers.

“Is everything all right?” Blair was still mounted but came so close he caught a whiff of her lavender smell just as Heddwyn bucked and squealed.

“Back up,” he ordered a little louder than he intended. She obeyed instantly, moving a good distance away, but he hadn’t missed the fear that flashed in his wife’s eyes.

After unbelting the saddle, he pulled it off and found a sharp rock embedded under the back of the seat. Having saddled the horses himself, he knew it had not been there this morning when they had left, and the only place they’d stopped was the last inn.

Was someone trying to stop him from reaching the king with news of the imminent threat from Scotland?

After handing the stone to Brodie, who had come up beside him, he took the time to inspect Heddwyn’s back, ensuring that he’d be all right.

“That was nae accident.” Brodie turned the sharp stone in his hand. “’Twas placed there to cause the most damage.”

Finlay had already figured as much but couldn’t think of anyone at the inn who would wish to harm him. He’d been stopping there for years, and they had always been kind to him.

“Inspect the rest of the saddles, but dinnae alarm my wife. She doesnae need to be frightened,” he muttered.

Brodie nodded.

Blair had enough to worry about. He would ensure their safety for the rest of the journey and keep a guard with the animals at all times. Obviously, this sense that they were being followed had been true. He needed to listen to his gut.

He contemplated heading back to the inn, but he’d lost too much time already. The signed copies of the Covenant were on their way to Edinburgh, and if he didn’t act fast, the Covenanter clan armies might join with English forces and beat him to the king. If that happened, he would have failed as a friend and a Scotsman.

Time was not on their side.

Realizing her horse might also have been sabotaged, he hastened toward Blair and ordered, “Dismount,” and held out his hand to help her down.

She hesitated, apprehension shining like the stars on a cloudless night, but she took his hand and slid down her palfrey. Hell, he’d not thought to scare her, only protect her from whatever was going on.

Once she was down, he held onto her fingers and started to walk back down the road.

“Come with me.” He gentled his tone once she was a safe distance from the horse.

“Where are we going?”

He didn’t like the tremble he heard in her usually confident voice. What would cause her to overreact so? Henry had used a sharp tone with her in Edinburgh, the one that had made him want to beat the man, and och, Finlay had been terse with her, too. His mind went to something unspeakable.

He stopped, and she skidded to a halt beside him. “Did Henry hurt ye?”

She blushed and glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. No wonder she flinched every time he touched her. That cowardly arse.

His fists clenched before he realized he still held her hand. She inhaled and seemed to shrink. He felt so large next to her. Loosening his grip he said, “Tell me.”

Shaking her head, she pulled her hand free and backed away.

“Did Henry hurt ye?”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to—he saw the truth of it in her eyes. If Henry Graham weren’t already dead, he’d kill the man.

“All clear,” came the shout from Brodie.

He didn’t want to have this conversation in front of the rest of the men. “We will speak about this later.”

She didn’t acknowledge his words and averted her gaze.

“I promise, if I ever raise my voice to ye, ’twill no’ be because I intend to harm ye. ’Twill be for yer protection.”

She kept her focus pinned on the earth.

He gently tilted up her chin, so she could see he was sincere. “I will never judge ye for someone else’s actions. And I promise to never hurt ye.”

She gave him a tentative smile showing she didn’t believe him.

Hell, if he had time to reassure her now, he would, but someone might be out to harm them. He couldn’t afford to have this conversation out in the open. “Come on. We need to get to the next inn so ye can get some rest.”

When they reached her horse, he clasped her waist and lifted her up onto the animal’s back. Before climbing back onto Hedwynn, he took a small cloth out of his bag and placed it on the steed’s injured spot. He’d have someone see to the animal’s injury at the next stop, but it didn’t appear to be a deep cut. He’d been lucky.

As they rode on, he kept his anger at bay by trying to figure out who had wished him harm. It was easier than thinking he’d missed the signs in Edinburgh when Henry had laid his hands on Blair.

…

What was Blair going to tell Finlay about Henry? She’d let him make her into the very thing she’d never wanted to become—her mother. That Henry had only wanted her because of her connections, for bedsport, and for producing heirs.

She flashed back to that night in Edinburgh. Henry had forced her into his room and, against her protests, had taken his husbandly rights before they were properly wed. His words still haunted her. “Ye’ll become accustomed to it.”

And when she’d cried, he said, “We need heirs. And ye will give me more sons than yer mother gave yer father. I’ll see to that.”

Her chest caved in just thinking about it. She’d witnessed the pain her mother had gone through with the multiple babes lost. It was a heartbreak that her father wouldn’t forgive his mother. And she could not shake the feeling that she, like her mother, might not be able to produce many heirs.

She’d been afraid then that all her hard work was for naught, as was all the time she’d spent learning to become invaluable in a household. Henry didn’t want her as a partner, he wanted her as a broodmare.

She swallowed and took a deep breath. Telling Finlay she’d chosen poorly wasn’t going to change anything. Instead, she asked, “Where is Tristan going?”

“He’ll be back soon.”

Fisting the reigns, she gave a gentle nudge and scooted ahead of her husband. He was not being untruthful, but he was purposely evasive. She wondered if he would ever trust her enough to be honest with her, consider her an equal partner in their relationship.

A little while later, Finlay cantered up beside her. “What will ye miss most about home?”

“I dinnae ken yet. The only time I’ve been away from home was the trip to Edinburgh.”

“What did ye miss then?”

“My garden.”

“But I thought ye didnae cook.”

“I don’t. I just like the idea of providing something useful and contributing, even if ’tis only a small one. Have ye ever had raspberries straight from the bush?” Her mind turned to the sweet fruit and how the tartness lingered on her tongue.

“Nae. I’ve never had a garden.”

“They are wonderful.”

“There is a garden at my estate.” His smile relieved the tension that had been brewing since their stop.

“What’s in it?”

“I dinnae ken, but we can take a tour, and if ye like, ye can plant whatever ye want.”

Och, maybe there was still hope he would value her. “I’d like that.”

A short while later, they rode into a large village that was still quite active despite the late hour. They left the horses in a stable, and Finlay guided them to a building where again, the innkeeper knew him by name.

The bottom floor was filled with rambunctious local residents drinking and having some sort of celebration. Taking her hand, Finlay led the group up the stairs. The other Cameron men followed but stopped at a door as she continued on down the hall with her husband.

Brodie was no longer with them.

Why did the men keep disappearing?

Finlay pushed open the door to a room at the end of the hall. Stepping in, her heart started to thud as she realized she was alone with her husband. She’d not even thought of what the night would bring. Would he demand his rights now?

Although it was late and the sky remained filled with clouds, the sun still broke through, lighting the room with its lingering rays and casting an ethereal glow through the window. Finlay lit a candle, and she paced, not wanting to sit on her sore bottom and taking advantage of the opportunity to stretch after riding all day.

He reached around and took the sword from his back, placing it gently on the floor just under the edge of the bed. She busied herself by strolling over to the window and peering out. Brodie was circling the stables then glancing around the town.

“Do ye think someone tried to harm yer horse?”

“Nae.” He didn’t sound convincing. But she’d seen the glances he’d continually tossed over his shoulder like he was expecting bandits to fall upon them at any moment. All the Cameron men seemed to be on alert.

Expecting him to continue, she turned, but he only sat and removed his boots, evading the question and planting doubts in her head. “Is someone trying to hurt ye?”

“The only people I can think that would want to harm me are my brothers, and I doubt they’d sully their boots and come all the way to Scotland to do it.”

“Will I meet yer brothers?”

“Aye.”

A soft knock sounded through the room. Finlay’s eyes darted toward his sword, but then turned back to the door. “Who’s there?”

“’Tis Mage, sir.” Blair recognized the voice as one of the women who had greeted them downstairs upon their arrival.

“Aye, all right then.” With two steps, he was across the room in what would have taken her four or more.

After pulling in the door, Finlay moved away to let a hunched woman carrying a tray enter the room. The graying woman smiled at him then her and set her offering on the small table by the unlit hearth. “Welcome missus. So happy to see this one has taken a wife.”

“Thank ye.”

“If ye need anything else, let us ken.”

“Aye,” he said as the woman scooted out the door as quick as she’d entered.

Sighing, Blair moved over to the table and slid slowly into one of the padded wooden chairs. She inspected the food and inwardly groaned, hoping to not let her husband see her displeasure at the offering. Stew, looking too similar to what she’d been served at Kentillie last night, and cheese. Neither of which she was going to touch. There was a small loaf of bread, so she decided to go with that. “Are ye going to join me?” Blair asked.

“Aye.” Easing in beside her, he took one of the plates.

She felt small next to him, but not fragile. Lifting her cup, she took a sip of the ale. The warm liquid slid down her parched throat easily. She took another sip then broke off a piece of bread. “Do ye ken every innkeeper from Kentillie to England?”

“I’ve been traveling this route since I was a babe. I ken it well.”

“Where in England are we going?”

“Just as far as Middlesbrough. From there, my brothers or father can deliver the message to the king. Supporting Charles is one of the few things my family and I can agree upon.”

“Do ye think he will punish my clan if my father insists on sending his men?”

He looked surprised that she knew of her father’s plan. “Does yer father keep ye informed on his dealings?”

“Nae, I keep myself informed.” She took another sip of the ale.

“I dinnae ken what the king will do to those who rise up against him.”

“Can ye attempt to assuage his anger? Ye ken when John takes over ’twill be different.”

“Aye, I like yer brother. He’s an intelligent man. Loyal.”

She found it pleasant talking to her husband, and the tension in her shoulders loosened slightly. She took another sip of the ale.

“Have ye always been interested in politics?” He spooned some stew into his mouth.

“I have educated myself on what I need to ken for the clan.”

His eyes lightened, and his lips turned up. She couldn’t help smiling back.

They continued to eat in a companionable silence, and after finishing her bread, her body became languid. It was most likely the effects of the ale or the dread of knowing tomorrow would be as grueling as the journey today had been, She found herself staring at his lips and remembering how they tasted. She sighed before she realized it.

Finlay’s pupils grew smaller, reminding her that he was a man and had every right to claim her body. It scared her, but at the same time, she didn’t feel pressured. She stood and moved over to the bed, thinking it was best if they got the hard part over.

“Are ye ready for bed?” Sitting on the edge, she removed her slipper. He continued to chew, but the task looked harder now. Taking off the other slipper, she placed them at the foot of the bed.

“Aye, shortly.”

Blushing, she rose and strolled to the table where he had stilled. “Will ye loosen the ribbons, please.”

When he nodded, she dipped to expose the delicate material to his touch. His fingers danced across her back, lingering and taking longer than usual as tingles spread through her spine at the light movements.

“Done.” His voice was hoarse and raspy, sending a thrill through her that he’d reacted to her in such a manner. She’d been worried after last night that he’d had second thoughts and didn’t want her. His voice and eyes said differently.

Moving back toward the bed, she turned to see his regard hadn’t left her. Slowly pulling, the gown slid from one shoulder then the next, as her cheeks stung with embarrassment. Finlay’s gaze devoured every move she made, and on top of the shame in it, she felt an odd anticipation as his eyes darkened and his chest rose and fell.

Tearing her gaze away, she moved to lay her gown over the chair she’d vacated and sat back on the bed to remove her stockings.

He rose, bumping into the edge of the table and knocking the tray onto the floor.

“Hell.”

He stooped to pick up the dishes, placing everything back on the tray, then stood. Need shone in his eyes when he looked at her, but he walked toward the door, opened it, and placed the remaining food outside. Shutting and bolting the door, he turned back to her.

She stood and waited for him to come closer. His heated gaze trailed from her face down her body. She shuddered.

He came to a stop just in front of her, his mesmerizing eyes piercing hers. His lips landed on her mouth, gentle at first, questioning and seeking approval. Rising up on her toes, she deepened the caress, urgent and needy as her body heated. She welcomed the touch.

It was new and so different from what had come before, like her body had waited for this moment to truly desire a man.

Her husband.

Tentatively, she slid her tongue into his mouth. He stilled, then his tongue started to dance with hers, and a thrill shot through her.

His hands rested on her hips as she rose up to clasp onto arms that were taut and strong, and nearly the size of her waist. She felt safe and desired. They’d barely had the chance to converse on the journey so far, but in this embrace she felt he was saying, “I want ye, need ye, and I’ll respect and protect ye.” He wasn’t a man of words, he was a man of action, and somehow that meant more.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tight, but it was suddenly too much. She gasped and broke the kiss, her body seizing in protest as his hard penis pressed into her belly, proof that he desired her, but also an indication of what was to come. The part she didn’t like. The calling that was now her duty.

Would it, too, be different with Finlay?

Not wanting to anger him as she had Henry, she said, “I’m sorry.” The words rushed from her mouth as a plea for forgiveness. She hated the twisted emotions that invaded the corners of her mind.

His grip fell as he backed away, releasing her back to the floor. He scrutinized her. “There is nothing to be sorry for. Did I hurt ye?”

“Nae. Just startled me.” But that wasn’t true, she was terrified and trembling, ready for the verbal assault or a fist.

It didn’t come.

Nodding, he went to the chair and sat, removing his boots, then standing to remove his plaid and shirt. She slid into the bed and looked away, shaking as she prepared for him to come at her again.

The light from the candle went out then the bed shifted slightly as he crawled under the blanket next to her. He scooted closer and placed his arm around her. He must have sensed her fear, because he made no moves to further their connection, only held her with his warm body pressed to her back. The reassuring gesture soothed her frayed nerves.

“I’m sorry.” She fought back the wave of guilt that enveloped her. For making him turn away, and for thinking he was anything like the brute who had taken her maidenhood. Her husband was nothing like that weasel.

“Nae. ’Tis no’ yer fault. We will get there.”

After a few minutes of lying cradled in his arms, unable to shut her eyes, unable to stop the images in her head, she confessed, “Henry forced me. I didnae ken it was going to happen. He took me to his room and wouldnae let me leave.” Her voice trembled, but she tried to steady it. “I never would have gone with him if I’d known what he intended.”

Finlay tensed. “Why did ye no’ tell someone? Yer brother or me? I could have helped.” His voice took on a low rumble.

He had been in the hall that second night as Henry pulled her from her chamber. She remembered Finlay’s tight jaw and clenched fists; she had known he was ready to intervene on her behalf and had almost given in to the urge to plea for help. But, if she called out for assistance, it would have put Finlay and Kirstie’s clan in danger. After Henry had forced himself on her the previous evening, she realized she was stuck with him, and there was no reason for the Camerons to feel the weasel’s ire. So, she’d gone willingly the rest of the way.

“’Twas too late once he was done. And we were betrothed. No one would have been able to give back what he’d taken, and ’twould only have angered the Grahams for yer interference.”

“I’m sorry ye had to go through that. I promise I will never force myself upon ye.” He hugged, drawing her in closer, cocooning her in his warmth and assurance.

“I ken, but sometimes my body and my brain arenae in agreement.”

“We have plenty of time.”

Time. Something Henry had not given her. She wanted to roll over, look in Finlay’s hazel eyes, and tell him she was ready, and she knew he deserved his rights as a husband, but she couldn’t do it.

His head nuzzled up to the back of hers.

A little while later, his arm slackened in sleep. Only then did she relax and shut her own eyes.