Page 63 of Sins of the Highlander

“Aye, I’ll make sure none hear her name or see her face.” Rob said, irritated that Angus didn’t think he’d protect Elspeth from gossiping tongues. “I didna set out on this course to harm her, just her bridegroom.”

“No, I believe ye didna, but sometimes the best plans go awry, and this one surely has on several occasions,” Angus said with a stern frown. “And besides, there’s all kinds of harm.”

“I dinna think Drummond will meet us along the road I intend to travel.”

“That’s no’ what I mean,” Angus said. “I ken ye can protect her from him. But can ye guard her from yourself? The lass is a maiden, gently bred. Have a care.”

“And what d’ye think I am? A ravening beast, I suppose.” Rob snorted. “I overheard ye telling Elspeth about Hamish and his brush with English justice. Rape is no’ his way, ye said.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did it occur to ye that it’s no’ mine either?”

“I just mean—”

“I ken what ye mean. Nothing will happen to the lass that she doesna want. There. Are ye satisfied?”

Without waiting for an answer, Rob turned away and called to Elspeth. She emerged from the cabin and said good-bye to Angus with the same warmheartedness with which she’d taken leave of the witch of Loch Eireann. Angus was reduced to blustering to hide his blubbering, and the deerhound didn’t even try to disguise his sorrow at seeing her go.

“I’m ready, Rob.” She smiled tremulously at him and let him hand her onto the wharf.

Does she just flit through life, collecting hearts as she goes along? Rob wondered. His chest constricted.

Aye, he answered himself. She does.

Chapter 21

Halfway up to the tavern on the edge of the town, Elspeth stumbled. Rob picked her up again.

“Ye dinna have to scoop me up like a bairn every time I wobble a bit,” she protested.

“Aye, I do.”

“Rob, I—”

“Trust me this once, lass,” he said as he tugged the cloak around to hide her face. “’Tis for your own good.”

He blustered into the taproom of the tavern, announcing his presence and demanding the room he’d paid for. The tavern patrons had a good laugh, assuming him an overanxious bridegroom with a shy bride in his arms. A man would let a whore walk up to the room behind him, so Rob carried Elspeth on up to the second-story chamber, following the light of the tavern owner’s tallow candle. No one would be able to say for certain that it was Elspeth Stewart who spent the night with him above the tavern’s common room.

Then Rob went back down to order their supper. He passed on the mutton, which smelled pretty wooly, and chose the savory venison stew instead. He ordered a skin of wine, a round of cheese, and as a treat, a loaf of real wheat bread instead of coarse barley, along with a dish of thick clotted cream. Mrs. Christie, the tavern owner’s wife, promised to bring up their supper tray shortly.

Rob returned to the room, feeling pleased with himself. The tavern was clean and well ordered. After a cave floor, a cramped boat, and a witch’s borrowed bed, he was finally providing suitable lodging for a lady of Elspeth’s quality.

When he opened the door, she was seated on a straight-backed chair next to the small table that held a pitcher and ewer. The light of a single candle kissed her with a golden glow.

But unlike the time he’d stumbled upon her at Angus’s home, she wasn’t bathing now. She was fully dressed, with her skirt hitched up to her hip on one side, her stocking sagging to her ankle.

She was untying the length of muslin binding the wound on her thigh.

Her eyes flared at him, and she dropped her skirt to cover herself.

“Ye need to change the dressing, Elspeth. Dinna let me stop ye. In fact, let me help ye.” He steeled himself to look at his handiwork. It was his fault an otherwise perfect leg was marred for life.

“I can manage.”

“Let me. I want to be sure ’tis healing cleanly.” He sank to one knee beside her and uttered a word that rarely passed his lips. “Please.”

She met his gaze directly for a moment and then nodded.

Carefully, he drew her skirt back up. He tried very hard to focus on the wrapped section of her thigh, but it was impossible not to notice her tender calf and the tempting crease behind her knee.

He wondered if she was ticklish there.