Page 9 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

Grace colored, but her eyes were wide with something that wasn’t indignation or anger as she glanced between him and the bed. “But then… where will I sleep?”

“In the bed.” Ewan huffed. “I’ve slept on worse places than an inn floor, lass, and I will again, most like.”

“I… see.” Grace’s blush deepened. “My apologies. It is just that I have never shared a room with any man before. I suppose I… misunderstood your intentions.”

Ewan laughed. “Och, ye could say that.” Despite his weariness, he felt a wash of grim amusement. “Never ye fear, lass. Yer virtue’s safe with me, nae matter what the circumstances are.”

Grace stiffened, outrage flaring in her eyes. “You say that as if you consider me undesirable.”

Ewan scowled, his mirth fading. “I didnae say that.”

“You said that my virtue was safe, no matter what the circumstances. That would imply…”

“It implies naething more than what I said, that ye’d be safe. Ye might find it hard tae believe, bein’ English as ye are, but I have more honor than tae pursue a woman who isnae interested, much less one who’s as wary as ye.” Ewan snapped the words. “Dinnae make accusations ye have nae reason fer.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you do not disdain me because I am English, like your countrymen?”

Ewan snarled. “I never said I disdained ye at all. I said ye’re safe with me, and ‘tis all I meant. However attractive I may find a woman, I’ve never once touched a lass who didnae wish fer me in turn.”

To his surprise, Grace’s angry expression faltered. “You find me… attractive?”

He wanted to take the words back, but he was weary of arguing, and not even winning the argument was worth continuing the fight. “Ye’re pretty enough. But I’ll nae act in a manner that dishonors meself or me laird.”

“Your… lord?”

“Me braither, Alistair. He’s me elder braither and me laird.” Whatever else he might have said was interrupted by the knock of the innkeeper, bringing their supper. Ewan took the tray and handed Grace one of the bowls of thick, hearty stew, along with a slice of bread. Grace claimed the single chair by the fire, so Ewan ate standing up, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the small hearth. The fire warmed him as much as the food, and both helped ease the ache of a long day’s riding.

Sated, he bent to remove his boots, only for Grace to startle once more. “You cannot mean to undress with a lady in the room?”

Ewan stared at her, bemusement warring with irritation. “Ye expect me tae sleep in me boots and all?”

Grace flushed. “I would feel safer if you did.”

Ewan bit back a snarl at the implied insult. Had she been a Scottish lass, he’d have been sorely tempted to give her the sharp edge of his tongue.

But she wasn’t. She was English, and in all likelihood, she had no idea how gravely she’d just erred, to imply that she could not trust her virtue to his honor. Perhaps she was simply too tired to think of such things, or perhaps, like most of the English, she thought his honor was meaningless and baseless, changeless as the wind.

It made him wonder why she’d even agreed to go with him at all, if she trusted him so little. He was tempted to ask her, but after a moment, he put the thought aside. He had no desire for yet more talking. “As ye like. I will remained clothed, but I’ll nae sleep in me sword belt or boots.”

Grace opened her mouth to protest, but Ewan shook his head sharply. “Dinnae even think tae ask again, lass. ‘Tis fer me comfort and both our safety, unless ye want tae risk havin’ me put a knife tae ye if I’m startled in me sleep.”

That silenced her. Ewan waited, but she made no more protest as he removed his boots, his belt, scabbard, and several of his knives, before thumping his pack into a makeshift pillow and rolling himself in his cloak. Only then, when he was settled, did she edge toward the bed and slide into the sheets, eyeing him like a wary animal, caught by the gaze of a hunter.

Ewan snorted, then slipped his cloak hood over his face, and closed his eyes to sleep. Let the lass be suspicious if she wanted. She would find no reason to fault nor fear his conduct that night.

CHAPTER FIVE

They left the inn shortly after dawn the following morning, and Grace was glad to be away, despite her weariness and the bone-deep ache that made getting into the saddle an ordeal. Her sleep had been fitful, and if she’d gotten two candle-marks of rest in the night, she would be surprised. A part of it was due to the unfamiliar surroundings, she was sure.

However, she’d lain awake for much of the night thinking about her circumstances, and the actions leading up to them. Slipping away from her uncle’s estate had seemed the only possible solution when Ewan had given her the message from Niamh, but now, surrounded by folk who were more likely to wish her ill than otherwise, she found herself wondering if it had truly been the correct choice after all. Likewise, she found herself wondering if she truly dared to trust Ewan MacDuff.

He said she was safe with him, and he’d spoken for her when the innkeeper had mocked her, but how true was his word? What if he’d only been acting cautiously, because they were within a day’s ride of her home, and he feared pursuit, or that word might get back to her family? It would be absurd to think so, but what did she know about what passed through the mind of a Scotsman? Much less one so taciturn as Ewan MacDuff?

More than once, as the candle-marks passed and the fire burned down to embers, she’d found her gaze straying to him, wondering if he was about to rise up and accost her. But no matter how she watched, Ewan had done nothing save snore, and occasionally shift in his sleep.

I was being foolish. I am still being foolish. Surely Niamh would not ask just anyone to seek me out. She would not have entrusted her message, nor my possible safety, to someone whose trustworthiness she was not absolutely certain of.

But then, a year ago, I would have also said she would never get married, nor carry a child. They say such things can cloud a person’s wisdom. And if her husband Alistair is the same man who threatened me at the Harvest Festival, then I know he has no love of the English. He might give other orders concerning me, and how would Niamh know, if Ewan’s loyalty is more to his brother than his brother’s wife?