From Effie’s pale, pinched face, she was probably mirroring Mari’s thoughts. For once, the maid seemed to have nothing to say. She just climbed into what was really more of a small wagon than a carriage without a complaint.
After giving orders to the driver, Jamie climbed in with them while Shane and Ian mounted horses and rode on ahead. Mari was as anxious as Ian to see Jillian, but she knew having them all ride would just slow him down—not to mention Effie’s fear of the animals. Mari almost smiled. She was actually beginning to like the big beasts.
“Wrap the plaids around ye,” Jamie said, handing one to Effie and taking another to lay across Mari’s lap as well as his and then tucking a part of it under her chin.
Effie frowned at the intimacy of having one blanket covering the both of them, but Mari ignored the look. The wool felt blissfully thick, cutting the sharp cold that seeped in through the wooden slats, and Jamie’s body heat enveloped her like a warm cocoon. She had no objection when he put an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. She felt cozy and sheltered.
Effie’s frown grew deeper.
“I have nae wish for the lass to catch a chill,” Jamie said affably. “’Twill nae help Jillian to see her sister ill.” He gave the maid his dimpled grin while he put his free hand on top of the plaid. “Will it please ye if ye can see where my hand is?”
The maid’s cheeks coloured, and Mari felt her own face warm. Little did Effie know the hand Jamie had around her shoulders was leisurely stroking her arm, causing an entirely different kind of heat to radiate.
Effie nodded. “I have a duty to see to Mari, you understand.” Then she smiled. “I know you are a gentleman and would not take advantage.”
Mari stared at her maid, not quite sure whether to be amazed because Effie was smiling or at what she’d said. Jamie, a gentleman? And, as for not taking advantage…his wayward hand, beneath the protection of the plaid, was inching its way much too close to her breast. She glanced at him, suspicious of his motives, but he was smiling blandly at Effie, practically mesmerizing the woman.
A gentleman indeed.
And how long were they going to be on the road?
Mari shifted her weight on the hard plank seats of the wagon two days later and rethought her vow never to complain about bumps in the road again—although what they traveled on could hardly be called a road, at least by English standards. It seemed to be more of a washed-out gully with huge ruts and jutting rocks. They’d had to change from the original wagon—which Mari now regarded as luxurious as any London landau or barouche—for this squat, lumbering box that rattled and shook precariously as the four sturdy, shaggy Highland ponies plodded painstakingly along. Mari knew a lighter-weight carriage with spindly wheels would never have handled this terrain, but her bottom was in desperate need of more cushions.
“’Tis nae long before we will be at Oban and be rid of the wagon,” Jamie said as she jostled against his thigh and almost landed in his lap from the latest jolt. He grinned as he righted her. “Although I dinnae mind if ye wish for me to hold ye.”
“I am quite capable of sitting—ooph!” she said as she crashed against him again in a half sprawl.
“Are ye?” This time he tucked her alongside him, his arm around her waist. “I think it best I deliver ye to yer sister in one piece.”
“Humph,” Effie said from the opposite bench, but this time she frowned at Mari.
What? Did her maid think she was doing all this slipping and slidingon purpose? Her poor body sported bruises each night when she put on her night rail since slamming into Jamie MacLeod was akin to running into a rock wall.
“How far is Oban from your home?” she asked to change the subject.
“Nae too far. A half-day by water.”
“Another half-day?” Mari groaned and then stopped abruptly. “Wait. Did you say bywater? We have to get on another boat?”
Jamie gave her a sympathetic look. “I fear so, lass. With the storm that chased Shane, the pass at Glen Coe will be completely snowed in.”
“There is not a way to go around it?”
“Nae. ’Twould take too long, and we wouldna ken if any pass were open.” He gave her hand a squeeze as the wagon lurched to a shuddery stop. “’Twill nae be as bad as the North Sea. Loch Linnhe be somewhat sheltered.”
Mari exchanged a dubious glance with Effie as they both stood on the dock an hour later waiting to board a vessel about half the size of Shane’s schooner. The boat bobbed in the short chop, straining its lines. A fine mist sprayed over her as the waves sloshed against the pilings, and Mari drew her travelling cloak closer, but the damp cut through anyhow. Effie sneezed and tugged her scarf tighter.
Jamie appeared with the captain. “There is shelter below decks,” he said as he helped Mari onto the gangplank while the captain helped Effie.
“Oh, no. I am not sitting in a hole again.”
“’Tis dry and warm.”
“I have no wish to cast up my accounts again.” Mari planted herself firmly by the rail—and then swayed as the boat rolled beneath her feet.
Jamie steadied her. “Ye will catch a chill out here. Go below.”
“No.”
