“How do ye like the stallion?” Ian asked as he and Niall were returning from a good gallop across the nearby glen. “Gunnar is Jillian’s favorite.”
Niall petted the sleek neck of the Andalusian. “’Tis a fine animal.” The stallion was well-trained, but spirited. Passing through the village, he’d picked up the scent of a mare and given Niall a bit of a challenge, one that Niall had met gladly, since he could identify with the randiness of the horse. He felt the same way.
This was the fifth day since Annie’s fall and their ride home together. He could still recall—in achingly vivid detail—each time his hard cock had pounded against Annie’s hip. It had taken every ounce of his considerable willpower not to pull her on top of him so he could at least get partial relief. Thank God the ride was only a mile because he didn’t know how much longer they could have kept pretending… Annie for “sleeping” so she could ignore his unwelcome assault or him for trying to act as though he weren’t ready to explode like a green lad.
“The bairns sometimes keep Jillian busier than she likes,” Ian said. “The horse needed exercising and he does nae take to many people.”
“Glad to help,” Niall replied and wondered if the stallion hadn’t perhaps felt an affinity for his own needy predicament.
It had come as a surprise to him that the herd of beautiful Spanish horses had been Jillian’s dowry and that she was the one who bred them. Evidently there were English women as well as Scottish ones who didn’t follow traditional roles. Annie had all but crowed like a rooster when she’d learned of it. She’d already asked Jillian about books on breeding and how active she was with the actual sale of the colts and fillies.
As they rode through the gate into the bailey, Niall looked for Annie. Luckily, the ankle had only been sprained and she’d beenup and about for the last two days. Usually she was outside with the twins, but today the courtyard was empty. He and Ian led their horses into the barn and rubbed them down before heading into the castle.
It was also eerily quiet. Ian’s bairns were probably napping in the nursery upstairs, but usually the twins could be heard if not seen. Neither Jillian nor Annie met them in the entryway either, which was unusual. Ian exchanged a glance with Niall, about to make a comment when they heard the murmur of low voices coming from a room down the hall that Jillian had converted into a parlor.
Jillian and Annie were seated on the sofa, the twins occupying chairs on either side. A man Niall had not seen before sat stiff and upright in a chair across from them.
“Who are you?” Ian asked.
“Charles Curtis, from the magistrate’s office in Glasgow.” The man stood. “Mr. MacQuarrie sent me.”
Niall felt the hair at his nape prickle. “MacQuarrie? What does he want?”
Annie held up a piece of paper Niall hadn’t noticed she’d been holding.
“We have to return for questioning,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I still doona like the idea,” Niall said later that evening when everyone was gathered in a room that served as a library. “Curtis could nae guarantee Annie’s safety on return.”
Annie looked down at the letter in her lap that she had folded and unfolded dozens of times. “The instruction is pretty clear.”
Niall scowled and resumed the pacing he’d begun earlier. “Thecommand, ye mean.”
She sighed. “Does it matter which word we use? The letter says I must appear before the magistrate within a week or be considered a fugitive. I doona want to be placed in gaol.”
“Ye can take my fastest carriage,” Ian said from his place on the sofa next to Jillian.
“’Tis nae need for a carriage,” Annie replied. She didn’t even want to think about the perilous winding road down to the loch in anything with wheels. “We brought our horses and ’twill be faster to ride.”
“Do ye want me to send some men with ye as guards?”
“’Tis nae need for that either,” Niall said. “We will catch a ship to Oban and, from there, ’tis nae more than three days to Glasgow. We will stop well before dark each night, so nae need to fear brigands.”
“I understand your need for haste in getting Annie away from Glasgow.” Jillian gave Niall an appraising look. “But have you thought of the repercussions if the two of you arrive without a chaperone of some type after several nights on the road?”
Annie drew her brows together. The flight from Glasgow had been so hurried, and with Niall wounded, she hadn’t given much thought to propriety. Besides which, she had been disguised as a lad until they got on board the ship. She could dress that part again for the journey, but arriving in Glasgow with only Niall asan escort—and facing a different sort of interrogation from her mother’s—did pose a problem.
“I wish I could accompany you,” Jillian said and then held up a hand to quiet Ian as his face turned thunderous, “but with the bairns still small—”
“We can go!” Caitlin practically shouted.
“Aye! Let us go!” Caylin was only marginally less loud than her twin. “We’ve only been to Glasgow once!”
“And Glasgow is probably still recovering,” Ian said.
Jillian shook her head. “You girls are too young to serve as chaperones.”
