Mad for the Plaid

  Primed by their kisses, she was constantly aware of him—of his strong arms where they wrapped about her, of the ripple of his muscles when he guided the horse around a deep puddle in the road, of his powerful thighs where they rested against the back of hers.

  Though they made excellent time once they reached the road, it grew dark quickly, and they had to camp one last night in the woods. There’d been a brief argument between Rurik and Gregor about who would stand guard, settled when Nik flatly ordered Rurik to let Gregor do his part.

  Gregor had been elated, although he’d faced this morning bleary-eyed and sleepy. She thought he was as grateful as she was when, shortly after noon, they’d finally reached the inn where the others waited.

  She’d never been so glad to see an inn, even though it marked the final stage of their journey. It was odd, but she both longed to be away from Nik and dreaded it. There would be no further opportunity for them to engage in their flirtation, as once the captives were recovered and they returned to Castle Leod, their adventure would be over.

  Finished.

  That was better for them both, and she knew it. But the realization left her feeling wistful and . . . not sad, for she’d tasted only a bit of the passion he offered, but . . . lonely. Yes, that was it. Lonely. And for the first time, she found herself wondering if Castle Leod was indeed her final destiny, or just a stop along the path.

  So it was that her final ride in Nik’s arms had been dampened by her conflicting thoughts. The only good thing that had come from the long morning’s ride was that Rurik and Gregor seemed to have healed the breech between them, for they’d spent the better part of the ride engaged in a low-toned earnest conversation.

  That had left her free to talk with Nik, though they’d said very little. Instead, she’d soaked in the feel of him, the nearness, refusing to think about how it would soon be over. She wasn’t sure whether it was her imagination, but once or twice she thought she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

  She sighed now as she crossed her legs at the ankles, enjoying the warmth of the fire as it soaked into the bottoms of her boots. I need to focus on the ransom exchange and nothing else. That is where my thoughts should be.

  “It’s good to be indoors, isn’t it?” Gregor stood in the doorway, his riding gloves in one hand, watching her.

  “It seems shamelessly luxurious.”

  “The inn?”

  “The whisky. ’Tis heavenly.” She gestured to a nearby bench. “Would you like a wee dram?”

  “I don’t mind if I do.” He left the doorway and crossed the room to slide onto the bench, dropping his gloves on the table. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

  “Why would I nae?”

  “Because it will appear on your bill of lading.” He gave a rueful smile as he picked up a glass from the small tray at her elbow. “I’m woefully short of coin.”

  “As ever.” She smiled at him fondly, sliding the bottle toward him. “Have however much you wish. I owe you more than a few glasses of whisky for riding to my rescue.” Although she wished he and Rurik had been a little slower in finding her and Nik. She was just getting to know him, and what she’d found out had surprised and intrigued her.

  And then there were those kisses.

  She fought a shiver, well aware that her thoughts were in such turmoil because she and Nik had left their explorations at such an unfulfilling point. Several times during their ride here, she’d had to fight the desire to turn in the saddle and draw his mouth to hers and demand that he finish what they’d started.

  Nik must have thought the same, for when they’d finally arrived at the inn, he’d dismounted and then reached up to assist her. As his hands had closed around her waist, he’d stayed in place and looked at her as if he would like to drag her all the way to the ground and take her there, as if there were no other people in the world but the two of them.

  Just the memory of that look made her mouth go dry. She took a bigger sip of the whisky, coughing a bit when it burned her throat.

  “Easy, lass!” Gregor chuckled. “’Tis not water.”

  “According to Papa, it is the water of life.”

  Gregor poured himself a bit more whisky, then replaced the stopper in the bottle and slid it back her way. “I was so glad we found you yesterday. I was beginning to fear I might never see you again.”

  “We would have caught up with you before long. We’d already agreed to set oot first thing in the morning.” The fire crackled, a log settling into place, putting off a new wave of delicious warmth. “But it was kind of you and Rurik to search for us.”

  “You must have known I would. Although Rurik wasn’t happy about it. We had quite a row over the whole thing. He wished to go on his own, saying he could travel faster and quicker alone, but I thought it best if at least two of us went, so we could cover more area. We had no idea where you were, and only the vaguest notion where to begin searching. We saw the felled tree, but we didn’t know if it had fallen before or after you’d passed, and the rain made tracking an impossibility.”

  “I should have marked the place Nik slipped off the trail.”

  “It was raining so hard that day, it would have washed away any sign you might have made. I don’t know what it is about Scottish rains, but they’re wetter than others.”

  She agreed. “And more fierce.”

  “That too. After the rain stopped, Rurik raced back down the trail, hoping to find the two of you. I tried, too, but was no more successful.” Gregor shook his head. “That’s when Stewart and MacKean decided to take St. George and the ransom monies on to Greer’s camp for safety.”

  “And when you and Rurik had a falling-out?”

  He nodded glumly. “Rurik decided I was to go with the others, but I couldn’t. Your safety is my responsibility.”

  She patted his hand and smiled. “I came to nae harm. And I’m glad both you and Rurik came to find us. Had Nik been injured worse, I might have needed both of you to get him here.”

  Gregor put his hand over hers and squeezed it. “I was never more glad to see anyone as when I saw you standing in that clearing.”

  “And I was never so glad as when I arrived in this inn and discovered we’d have real beds and hot meals.”

  He chuckled. “One never truly appreciates things until they’re gone.”

  “I’ll certainly never again sit at the bounty of the table at Castle Leod withoot remembering dried venison and hard rolls.”

  He shuddered. “Don’t remind me!”

  She settled back in her chair. “A bed, Gregor. With blankets and nae rocks poking us in the back. I will nae be able to sleep for the happiness of it.”

  And the disturbingly tantalizing memories of Nik’s kisses and insistent hands. She found her gaze flickering up to the ceiling. Overhead were four bedchambers, all of which they’d bespoken. Nik would have one, she another, Gregor the third, and Rurik, as guard, would take the fourth room directly off the stairs. The rest of their party were bedding down in the grooms’ quarters off the stables.

  Thus it was that her bedchamber and Nik’s were only a few steps apart. It was tempting, those few steps . . . if she dared. She found herself staring at the ceiling, her heart thudding at her own boldness.

  But no, her common sense warned. It was already difficult being near him without betraying herself. If they went farther down this dangerously beguiling but tricky path, she wouldn’t be able to hide her desires from anyone. She returned her gaze to her glass and took a fortifying sip. “I must win Lord Hamilton and Her Grace’s release as soon as possible.”

  “It’s been a wearisome adventure, but it should be easier from here on out,” Gregor said, in a preoccupied tone.

  He was absently tracing his finger around the edge of his whisky glass, his uncharacteristically somber gaze on the amber liquid.

  Ailsa pinged the edge of his glass with the flick of her finger. “Oot with it.”

  He started. “Out with what?”

/>   “Something’s bothering you. I know you too well, Gregor Mackenzie, nae to know when there’s a weight on your mind.”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing. A mere thought, best left unsaid.”

  “Either you tell me, or”—she slid the whisky decanter out of his reach—“nae more.”

  “You’re a cold, cruel woman, Ailsa Mackenzie.”

  “Only when forced. Now, what has you staring into the bottom of your glass as if you can see the end of the world.”

  He sighed. “I will tell you—but you must promise to hear me through before you react.”

  “You’re afraid I’ll stop you?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll throw what’s left of this lovely whisky into my face.”

  “Then you dinnae know how I feel aboot whisky.”

  He laughed, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but I’m holding you to your promise not to throw your glass or anything else at me for saying my thoughts aloud.” He fixed a level gaze on her. “I think it would be best if you returned home.”

  She blinked in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

  “Very. Now, hear me out,” he said when she straightened in her chair, ready to tell him what she thought of such an asinine idea. “It’s the only thing Rurik has said that I agree with, and that’s that from here on out, things could get deadly very quickly.”

  “I cannae believe you’d dare suggest such a thing, after all we’ve been through to get this far.”

  “I know you want to see this through, but we’re facing an unknown enemy, someone who possibly intends us harm. And to be frank, you’ll be a distraction.”

  “What? A distraction to whom?”

  He flushed. “To everyone. You’re a woman, and naturally we’ll all wish to protect you.”

  She had to force herself to breathe. “Other than you and Rurik, who else has agreed with this ridiculous idea?”

  “It may also have been a topic of conversation earlier today with Greer and MacKean.”

  “I see. So while I was nae in the room, the lot of you decided I was a ‘distraction’ and nae capable of dealing with the coming dangers. Lovely. Fortunately, I am here, and I am nae leaving until we’ve rescued Lord Hamilton and Her Grace.”

  “Ailsa, just think—”

  “I am thinking! Within the next day or two, we’ll be delivering the ransom, and our quest will be over. There may be dangers, I agree, but I came this far to face those dangers, nae to run from them like a frightened hare.”

  Gregor looked miserable “Please. We just want you safe.”

  “I’m nae leaving, and that’s that.”

  “But—”

  “She said nyet, Mackenzie,” came a deep, rich voice directly behind them. “Now, leave her be.”

  Nik stood in the open doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his cloak hood cowled about his shoulders. Shortly after they’d arrived, he’d changed his clothes, appearing with a fresh, less bulky bandage that fit well under his loose white shirt. With his coat unbuttoned, his shirt untied at the neck, his pistol tucked into his wide leather belt, a knife hilt protruding from one of his boots, she thought once again that he looked like no prince she’d ever imagined, but more like a highwayman, or a pirate. Powerful, untamed, and lethal.

  Ailsa’s heart fluttered as he shoved himself from the doorframe and walked past them to stand by the long, low table that sat against the farthest wall. “Ailsa has come this far—it would be foolish for her to quit now.” His gaze rested on her for a long moment. “She is many things, this one, but foolish is not one of them.”

  “Thank you,” Ailsa said. I think.

  Gregor muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t offer a challenge.

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Rurik entered, joined soon by Greer. Rurik went to the table where Nik had spread some maps, while the small, wizened-faced huntsman stopped near Ailsa and Gregor. The older man’s face brightened on seeing the decanter of whisky.

  Ailsa obligingly slid it his way.

  He poured himself a glass. “Thank you, my lady.”

  “Of course.” She forced a smile.

  Greer tasted the whisky and smacked his lips. “Ah, that hits the gullet like a feather, it does.”

  She pinned him with a direct gaze. “I heard it has been decided I might be a distraction to the rest of you were I to continue on from here.”

  Greer sent a hard look at Gregor. “Who told you tha’, I wonder?”

  “It does nae matter. Do you believe that?”

  Greer took a drink of the whisky, obviously stalling for time. Finally, he said, “I think you’ll do what you know to be best, my lady.”

  “What I know to be best is for me to continue this journey, and the rest of you nae make fools of yourself thinking I’m too soft to handle my own pistol.”

  Greer flushed. “Nae one said you could nae handle yourself. We just thought—”

  “You dinnae think at all,” she said sharply. “I dinnae want to hear another word aboot this ridiculousness. And if any one of you finds yourself distracted from your duties because you’re so silly as to fear for my safety over your own, then you should return home before your lack of wits causes someone to be killed.”

  “Aye, my lady.” Looking miserable, Greer put his half-finished glass on the table. “You’re right, of course. We should nae blame anyone but ourselves if we cannae keep our heeds on our own shoulders.”

  “Guid. We have one purpose here—to secure the safe release of the prisoners. We cannae become distracted.”

  “Aye, my lady. I’ll remind the others.” Greer inclined his head and sidled away from the table, making a break for the other side of the room, where he joined Nik and Rurik.

  From where he stood, Nik inclined his head as if silently congratulating her, a smile curving his lips.

  She fought the urge to return his smile, and instead turned back to Gregor, who was looking shamefaced.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I knew I should have kept that to myself.”

  “Dinnae be sorry. ’Tis guid I know what’s being said so I can nip the head off any malcontented muttering before it blooms into something more.”

  “It’s difficult to win someone’s esteem.”

  “And harder to keep it.”

  Gregor looked across the room to where the three men were now bending over the map. “I do not think your prince holds me in much esteem.”

  She frowned. “He’s nae ‘my’ anything.”

  Gregor slanted her an amused look. “Then perhaps you’re ‘his.’ All I know is, he seems very possessive of you.”

  “You’re imagining things.” And yet Ailsa found herself watching Nik from under her lashes, an odd warmth stealing over her at Gregor’s words. She supposed she did think of him as hers. At least a little. And why not? There were no other women on this journey, so without competition, whose else would he be? But knowing the little she did of Nik’s past, it was very unlikely there would ever be a “his” for the prince. Such a thing would take more trust than he could give.

  The thought depressed her, but it was good to admit the truth before her imagination went places she could never follow.

  “Lady Ailsa?”

  Nik gestured to the map on the table. “Come join us. We must decide on our movements from here on out.”

  “Of course.” She rose and crossed to the table, aware of a faint sense of dread. The time had come.

  Gregor collected his glass and followed.

  Greer moved aside so she could see the map. “What are you thinking thus far?” she asked.

  Rurik placed his finger on the map. “We’re here. The inn at which we’re to meet the abductors is here.” He slid his finger along a road to a place farther north. “If we leave in the morning we’ll reach the inn within a day, perhaps two.”

  “More travel,” she murmured, trying not to grimace.

  “Da. We are all tired of it.” Rurik pulle
d a flask from his pocket, took a drink, and then offered it to Nik.

  “But we’ve the element of surprise. Even with the few days we lost because of the brigands and the rain, we made guid time getting here,” Ailsa said.

  Rurik agreed. “Those fools won’t be expecting us quite yet. It should have taken us another three to four days, at the least.”

  “So we’ve surprise on our side. Or we do unless the abductors have eyes in Ullapool.”

  “Och, I had nae thought of that.” Greer scratched his chin. “But it makes sense. If I thought to meet someone at a specific spot but dinnae know for certain when they’d arrive, I’d set someone to watching for them doon the road, too.”

  Ailsa nodded. “But . . . would you post those eyes here, in Ullapool? Or in Kylestrome, where we’re to make the exchange for the prisoners?”

  “Kylestrome,” Nik answered, tapping his fingers on the map. “Ullapool is too far removed to make communication convenient.”

  Ailsa nodded. “Which means the watchman might be in Kylestrome now.”

  Nik sent her an amused look. “You think we should send someone to find out?”

  “Immediately.”

  Greer nodded. “I’ll go after supper.”

  “Verrah guid,” Ailsa said. “Take Stewart or MacKean in case there’s a run-in. We dinnae know anything aboot these people other than they’re willing to take poor elderly people hostage.”

  “I will, my lady. If we’re lucky, mayhap we can track these blackguards back to their camp.”

  “If you can follow them without anyone being aware of it, we could attack them there.” Nik nodded thoughtfully. “That would be the best way—”

  “Nae.”

  Everyone looked at Ailsa.

  She straightened her shoulders. “We will nae take chances with the lives of the hostages. Greer, if you find the camp, we’ll use the information only if the delivery of the ransom monies does nae satisfy these thieves.”

  Greer blew out his lips in a blustery puff. “My lady, you cannae hope to negotiate with these bloody arses.”