To Marry A Scottish Laird (3 page)

Joan didn’t comment. She understood. Witnessing something like that . . . well, it had made her decide not to have children. She could understand his not wanting to watch another woman go through it as his first wife had.

“Me family are determined I should wed and give them the heirs they want though,” he added with a grimace. “Me mother especially is determined and once the snow melted, started filling Sinclair with any unmarried or widowed female she can find that she thinks might tempt me. By spring’s end I was tripping over women everywhere I turned. The woman was making me life a misery,” he said with disgust and shook his head. “I finally had to head out and find a battle to fight jest to get a rest and that’s where I’ve been all summer. Offering me services to those in need o’ a good sword hand. Well, offering me sword and that o’ a couple cousins who went with me.”

“Where are your cousins now?” Joan asked.

“We started out together, but stopped in Nottingham for a meal. The tavern wench was a pretty little thing, and very friendly,” he said with a grin. “I told me cousins to continue on without me and I’d follow later.”

“I see,” Joan said and almost winced when she heard the disapproval in her own voice. She was supposed to be a boy, after all, and a young boy would probably listen with eager glee rather than disapproval. But Cam only chuckled at her censure.

“Oh, come, lad. Ye’d have stopped too had she been wiggling her bosoms in yer face and dropping in yer lap to bounce about.”

Joan managed a smile and merely said, “Aye, well, ’tis fortunate for me that she was so friendly and slowed your journey else I may not have survived my encounter with Toothless and his friends.”

“Toothless?” Cam asked with confusion.

“The big man who was beating me when ye came upon us,” she explained.

“Ah.” Cam nodded, and then shrugged. “I did no’ see his face. I hit him from behind.”

“Oh, aye,” she murmured, and stood to walk to the river and kneel at its edge to dip her hands in and remove the grease from the rabbit meat off her hands. When Cam joined her a heartbeat later, she asked, “Are your brothers younger than you?”

Cam glanced to her with surprise. “Aye. How did ye ken?”

She shrugged. “If they were older your parents would not fret so about heirs. As the eldest though, you inherit the land and title . . . so an heir becomes more important.”

“Aye. Or I could leave it to one o’ me brothers and their heirs,” he pointed out, then straightened and shook his hands, removing the worst of the water as he complained, “I should no’ be tired but I am.”

“You’re healing,” she said quietly. “You’ll tire easily over the next while.”

“Aye, well, then I’d best sleep. We’ll leave at dawn on the morrow.”

Joan mumbled agreement and watched him walk back to the fire. He unwound his plaid as he went, wrapping it about himself like a blanket before lying down on his side, facing the fire. The sight made her wish she had a plaid of her own. It was the end of summer, warm during the day but cooler at night. It would have been nice to curl up in the heavy woolen cloth to sleep.

She straightened, giving her own hands a shake, but then grimaced. Now that her hands were clean, the filth on her skin from the wrists up was more noticeable . . . and tomorrow they would be traveling again and gathering even more dust and dirt off the trail. Her gaze slid to the water almost longingly. A quick dip would be lovely. The night air was cool enough that the river water had felt almost warm in comparison when she’d washed her hands. If she moved a little distance up the shore and was quick . . .

Joan glanced over her shoulder toward Cam, and then began to move silently along the riverside.

Cam shifted restlessly and opened his eyes to peer into the fire. He was tired, but now that he was lying down, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. His body was exhausted, but his mind appeared to be rolling over his conversation with Jonas. He liked the boy. He was smart, capable and brave enough to take on this mammoth task on his own and that had earned his respect. Cam did not give respect unless it was earned, and the boy had earned it.

Jonas had also proven himself in possession of honor. The lad could have just left him lying in the road. It certainly would have been a lot less trouble. He also could have stolen his horse and the heavy sack of coins Cam had earned during his summer of mercenary work. But while the saddle and sack had been removed from his mount, they had both been set neatly nearby, under a stack of underbrush to hide them from any would-be thieves.

It had taken Cam a good bit of hunting to find the items. He’d actually begun to fear the boy had sold the one and taken the other when he’d stumbled over them. Every last coin was still in the sack too. Cam had checked. A sack of coins like that must have been a great temptation. It was more than the boy would probably see in his entire life, but the lad was no thief. He was also a skilled healer. Cam could tell that by the fact that he still lived. He’d gingerly felt around on his back earlier and noted the size of his wound. That plus the amount of dried blood he’d found in his boots when he’d tried to don them told him as much. His plaid had been clean, but the boy hadn’t thought to check inside his boots. Cam had set them to soak in the river with a couple of large rocks to hold them in place, hoping that would remove the dry blood.

That recollection had Cam sitting up. Gritting his teeth against the pain that shot up his back, he glanced toward the river, eyebrows rising when he saw that Jonas was no longer at the river’s edge. The sudden worry that the boy might have fallen in had Cam getting abruptly to his feet. He had his plaid wrapped about his waist and was at the riverside in a trice. There was no sign of him there, but the river could have taken him downstream. The current wasn’t strong, but there was a current.

Cursing, Cam began to follow the river, scanning the surface for the boy’s floating body. He’d gone perhaps twenty feet when movement in the shadows ahead made him slow and squint his eyes to see better. Jonas stood ahead, at the water’s edge. He was disrobing, obviously intending to bathe.

Cam paused and relaxed, glad he hadn’t called out. The boy obviously wanted privacy for the task or he wouldn’t have come so far downstream. Cam was about to turn and give him that privacy when the boy took his hat off, allowing long hair to come tumbling out. His eyebrows rose at that. Most peasants kept their hair short to keep it out of the way while working. It was also a sign of their status. Jonas having hair that tumbled down his back almost to the top of his braies was just a bit startling. But that wasn’t the only surprise. The boy tugged his tunic off over his head, revealing bandages wrapped around his upper chest in a wide swath.

The sight made Cam clench his fists as Jonas began to unwind the wrapping. He hadn’t realized how badly the boy had been hurt in the attack. Here he’d apparently taken a mammoth wound, and yet the lad was the one who had looked after him while he—

Cam’s thoughts died abruptly as the last of the bandages fell away and two rather generous breasts popped into view. Shocked to the core, Cam merely stood there gaping like an idiot as he tried to accept what his eyes were telling him. Jonas, the fine young chap he liked and respected, was a girl. A fine figure of a girl too, he saw, as she dropped her braies and started into the water. She had a figure that—

Bloody hell!

Turning abruptly, Cam strode silently back the way he’d come, not stopping or even slowing until he reached the spot he’d been lying on earlier. Pulling the plaid up around his shoulders, he then lay down, pulled the plaid to cover his head and shoulders and then firmly closed his eyes. The moment he did, an image of Jonas stripping off his braies rose up against the back of his eyelids.
Her
, Cam corrected himself.
She’d
taken off her braies.

Dear God, Jonas was a Josephine . . . or perhaps a Joanna, or something along those lines. He had no idea what her real name was. Or how much to believe of the tale he’d been told. Was there really a message to be delivered? He suspected that was true. He’d seen the scroll himself. And lad or not, she was still delivering the message, though whether it had been a deathbed request or not wasn’t certain.

On the other hand, Cam reminded himself, she hadn’t stolen his gold or left him to die at the roadside, so he suspected he could trust her word and that the majority of the tale was the truth. Actually, it made a lot of sense for her to travel as a boy. Had she been dressed as a woman, he wouldn’t have come upon her being robbed, but raped. Which was no doubt the reason for the disguise, he realized. It wasn’t safe for a lass to travel alone.

A lass, he thought. Damn. Cam lay still for a moment, but then recovered enough from his shock to decide it made no difference. She had saved his life and tended him while he was ill and helpless. She deserved his aid in getting to her journey’s end, more so now that he knew Jonas was a girl.

As for her secret, he wouldn’t confront her about it, Cam decided. He still liked the lass. She was a brave bit of goods and smart and able. He would see her to MacKay and allow her to pretend to be a boy on the way there. But now he was curious to see what she looked like without all that bruising and swelling. Would he think her worth a tumble once healed?

Cam rolled his eyes at himself. She had earned his respect as a boy and should be given at least as much respect now that he knew she was a woman. That being the case, it mattered little what she looked like. He would see her safely to MacKay and then continue on to Sinclair without divulging that he knew her secret. Unless of course she came to trust him enough to tell him herself, he decided.

The situation resolved in his mind, Cam shifted to a more comfortable position and closed his eyes to attempt to sleep . . . and again couldn’t find that elusive state. Now that he knew Jonas was a girl, he felt he should be standing guard while she bathed. Ensuring no one troubled her, that she didn’t encounter difficulty and drown, and then to see her safely back to their camp.

Not revealing that he knew her secret was going to be difficult, Cam realized suddenly. He wouldn’t have let her go traipsing off into the woods alone to hunt their supper had he known. Hell, now he was feeling guilty over it. As the man, he should have hunted down their dinner himself.

Oh aye, this was going to make the journey more difficult.

A rustling sound made him open his eyes and turn his head to look over his shoulder toward the river in time to see a small shape move into view. Jonas, or whatever her name was, was returning, he realized with relief. Relaxing into the cocoon his plaid offered, Cam closed his eyes to feign sleep and listened as the girl approached the fire. There was some rustling and movement and then silence.

Several moments of silence passed and then Cam opened his eyes to glance about. The female who had introduced herself as Jonas had picked a spot not far from his own and lay on her side, hands clasped and pillowing her cheek. Her eyes were open though and meeting his gaze, she nodded, murmured, “Good sleep,” and then closed her eyes.

Cam stared at her face briefly, but she was so misshapen from her beating he couldn’t tell what she would look like once healed. He also couldn’t tell what color her hair might be. She wore her woolen cap pulled low in the front, covering even her brows. He continued to stare at her for a long time, simply watching the flames cast light and shadow over her swollen face, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3

“
T
ELL ME
ABOUT YOUR BROTHERS
.”

Cam raised his eyebrows at that question. They had been chatting about various and sundry since setting out that morning, their likes, dislikes and so on, but this was the first time the conversation had taken a more personal turn. Cam glanced briefly over his shoulder to where Jonas was mounted behind him on his horse. Jo, he corrected in his mind. It just didn’t seem right to think of her as Jonas now. Not after seeing her naked. That thought made him grimace. The image of her naked in the moonlight had kept him awake until nearly dawn. It had seemed like bare minutes later when a combination of birdsong and Jo’s moving around had woken him. Now he was exhausted, and grumpy, and his back hurt with every step the horse took so that he had kept the mount to a slow trot. They were moving so slowly they may as well be on foot, but at least they were moving.

“Why?” he asked finally.

“Because I’m curious,” she said and he felt her shrug where her front pressed against his back. “Besides, ’twill pass the time.”

He supposed that was true, and mayhap it would distract him from his own somewhat ridiculous thoughts. He found his gaze continually dropping to where her hands were. She really had lovely hands, long slender fingers, pale, unmarked skin. If he’d taken note of those, he might not have been caught so off guard by the realization that she was female. They were definitely a woman’s hands, and a woman who had not damaged them with hard labor. Being a healer, she didn’t have the dry, work roughened skin and callused fingers of the average peasant. In fact, her hands could have passed for a lady’s.

“What are their names?” Jo prompted and Cam forced his gaze away from her hands again.

“Aiden and Douglas,” he answered, glancing over the path ahead.

“And they’re both younger than you?”

“Aye. Douglas is three years me junior, he’s the eldest of the two.”

“And Aiden?” she asked.

“Seven years younger than Douglas. Still a lad, really, though he thinks he’s a man at fifteen,” Cam muttered dryly. “And like all youth he thinks he knows everything and is invincible.”

“Of course he does,” she said with amusement and then asked, “Were your brothers not sent to train in the homes of other nobles? I thought that was common amongst nobility.”

“Aye, all of us were. Father insisted. But Mother couldn’t bear us to be away long and so I was away for two years, Douglas was gone two and a half years and Aiden for three,” Cam murmured.

“It got easier for her with each child,” Jo noted.

“Aye,” Cam murmured and then grinned and added, “That or I was her favorite, Douglas her second favorite, and Aiden a pain in the arse she was happy to be rid of.”

“You are awful,” Jo said on a laugh, lightly slapping his belly with one of the hands clasping him there.

Her laugh definitely wasn’t that of a boy. It was high and tinkling. He liked it, Cam thought, glancing down again at the hands splayed on his stomach. They rested low, just inches above—

“I gather Douglas is your favorite brother then?” Jo asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Cam shrugged. “We are closer in age, but . . .”

“But?” she queried when he paused.

“We have little in common,” he admitted quietly and then explained, “Douglas is terribly serious and grim all the time, while I am not.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, shifting against his back. “ ’Tis usually the other way around. The eldest is usually more serious and the middle child less so.”

“Aye, and that is how it was when we were growing up,” Cam admitted.

“What happened?” Jo asked. “When did that change?”

Cam squinted thoughtfully as he considered the question. He’d never really troubled himself to work that out. Now he did and wasn’t sure he liked the answer to her question, but she was waiting for one, so, sighing heavily, he admitted, “After me wife’s death.”

“Ah,” she murmured.

“Ah?” he asked, stiffening. “Ah what?”

He felt her shrug against his back again. “Tragedy often changes people.”

Cam grunted, but felt dissatisfied, both with her words and the realization he’d just had. While growing up he had always taken his responsibilities and charges seriously. It had been hammered into him that he should, and so he’d been dutiful about everything, performing every task required of him . . . until his wife, Lacey, had died.

Like him, Lacey had taken her duties seriously and had done all she was expected to without fail. Their marriage had been arranged while they’d both still been in swaddling. When their parents decided that it was time for that marriage to take place, they’d both accepted and gone into it without fuss or ado despite their being complete strangers. Lacey had dutifully welcomed him to her bed, if not eagerly, then with calm acceptance. She’d even got with child quickly, as was expected and carried the child without complaint right up until the day it had killed her. And that was when Cam had begun to throw off the shackles of duty.

“What are your parents like?”

Cam shook off his thoughts at that question and considered how to respond. “Me mother loves and frets o’er us all. She’s a good woman.”

“And your father?”

“He dotes on me mother. We all do,” Cam answered and then urged his horse off the road, onto a barely visible trail through the woods.

“Are we stopping?” Jo asked and he could feel her shifting behind him, her chest sliding against his back as she looked around.

“Aye. ’Twill be dark soon, and I ken a good spot to stop just off the road. I ha’e camped there on other trips.”

“Oh,” she said and relaxed against him, her hands slipping a little lower at his waist.

Cam knew it was an unconscious move on her part. She probably wasn’t aware her hands had dropped a bit, and certainly it wasn’t as if they were anywhere they shouldn’t be. He wasn’t even sure why he was so aware of their position. He liked the girl, had liked her when he’d thought she was a boy too, but he wasn’t attracted to her. At least he didn’t think he was. True she smelled nice, he liked her laugh and he enjoyed talking to her, but he didn’t even know what she looked like under all those bruises, so he couldn’t be lusting after her. Could he?

“ ’Tis beautiful,” Jo breathed as they broke out of the woods and into a clearing.

“Aye,” Cam agreed but with appreciation rather than the wonder she was experiencing. He’d been here before after all. But it was a truly beautiful spot. The trees had been cleared away as if someone had planned to build here. In the absence of trees, a field of knee high grass and wildflowers had grown and it was all beside a lovely waterfall that the river flowed over before meandering away toward the south.

Once they reached the center of the clearing, Cam brought his mount to a halt and then twisted just a bit, ignoring the pain it caused and held his hand and lower arm out to Jo. He didn’t have to say a word, she took his hand with one, and grabbed his forearm with the other and then held on as she swung herself off the horse and to the ground.

“Thank you,” she said with a nod and then turned to walk toward the water’s edge as he dismounted.

Once on his feet, Cam leaned his head against his mount and took a moment to let the pain the action had caused to ease. He then led his mount to a tree on the edge of the clearing and secured the reins to a branch before removing his bag, and Jo’s. Setting them aside, he then started to unsaddle the beast, and brushed him down before turning to find the clearing empty. Cam frowned, but then realized that she had probably gone to find a secluded spot to take care of personal business and relaxed.

It had been a long ride. They may not have got far because of the speed at which they’d been forced to travel, but they’d ridden from dawn until now, almost dusk. He needed to drain the dragon as well. Scooping up his bag and Jo’s he headed back the way they’d ridden in. He didn’t want to risk running into Jo and spoiling her secret after all. Besides, seeing her that way once had been enough. He didn’t need another vision of her naked to keep him awake.

J
OAN LEANED FO
RWARD, TOOK A DEEP B
REATH
and lowered her face into the water again. She would have liked to take a dip to wash off the day’s dust, but there was no time for that. Besides, it was still light out. She didn’t want to be seen and recognized for the woman she was. The water was nice though, and felt soothing on her swollen face, so when she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, she lifted her head, took another breath and dunked her head in the water again. Joan did that three more times before straightening and sitting back on her heels to let the water roll down her face and neck.

It had been a good day, the best of this trip for her so far. It seemed her encounter with Toothless and his gang, while painful, had worked out for the best for her. This was the first day she hadn’t been anxious and nervous from sunrise to sunset. Traveling alone, she’d had to be constantly on her guard. That hadn’t been the case with Cam. She’d been able to relax a bit today and just enjoy the scenery and conversation. The combination had made the journey much more pleasant, and despite the fact that they had ridden slowly and probably hadn’t got much further than she would have on foot, at least her feet and legs didn’t ache. And Cam had promised to see her safely to MacKay so the rest of her travels were going to be this easy. All in all, what had started out the worst of days when Toothless and his gang had attacked her, had ended up being quite lucky.

A rustling in the bushes behind her had Joan standing up with surprise and turning around. Her abrupt action must have startled the pheasant she’d apparently heard, because in the next moment one suddenly rose up out of a nearby bush and flew into the branches of the nearest tree. The sight made a slow smile stretch her lips, and this time, the pain was minimal. Her face was still misshapen with swelling and bruising, but it was a little better than it had been. At least it had seemed so in the wavering reflection she’d seen in the river water.

Not that it really mattered at this point, she supposed. It wasn’t as if she wanted to appear attractive to Cam or anything. After all, he thought she was a boy. Besides, she’d decided long ago that relationships and men were not for her. Getting mixed up with them was dangerous. She had no desire to die in the birthing bed as she’d seen so many women do. Every one of them had gone screaming, or exhausted from screaming if they lived long enough to push the baby out. Nay. She liked Cam, it was true, and yes he was certainly very attractive, but that was as far as it went.

“And you are such a liar,” she muttered under her breath. Joan was more than attracted to the man. She’d sat behind him on horseback all day, her arms around him, her face pressed to his back, smelling the woodsy scent of him, and enjoying the caress of his soft hair against her cheek as the wind blew it back toward her.

She definitely had an attraction to the man. It had started as she’d nursed him back to health those three days. While he apparently didn’t recall it, Cam hadn’t been incoherent the entire time, at least he hadn’t been unconscious anyway. He’d been feverish but talking even then and she’d found him amusing and intelligent. An opinion that had only grown once his fever broke and he woke up. Their conversations last night and today had merely increased her liking and attraction to him.

Joan supposed that meant she was lucky that he thought she was a boy. At least this way, he wouldn’t be interested in a dalliance to pass the time. Not that he probably would anyway, considering how unattractive she was just now. Still, with both those little matters between them he wouldn’t be interested and she wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid.

Pushing these thoughts out of her head, she moved over to stand beneath the tree the pheasant had flown to. It had roosted on a branch about fifteen feet up. She peered at it briefly, imagining how good it would taste cooked over an open fire. The thought made her stomach rumble, reminding her that they hadn’t eaten since the rabbit the night before. Joan rubbed her stomach and then glanced around her for a good-sized rock. Finding one that would suit, she retrieved a slingshot from the small bag she’d sewn inside the waistline of her braies.

Joan had always been good with the slingshot. A natural talent her mother had claimed. She hit the bird in the head with the first shot and watched with satisfaction as it toppled off its roost and fell. Her satisfaction died abruptly, though, when the damned thing merely landed on the branch below the one it had been on and lay there.

She waited, hoping that given a bit of time, the bird’s weight might make it slip off the branch, but when that didn’t happen, Joan heaved a sigh and moved to the tree to begin to climb. Never having climbed a tree before, she was surprised at how easy it was. It didn’t seem to take long at all to climb up so that the branch the bird had flopped over was at her chest level. Joan reached for it then, but of course it was out of her reach. Quite a ways out of her reach.

Joan debated the matter and then climbed up until she stood on the branch the bird was on. She then eased to sit on it and pressed her hands down on the branch and straightened her arms. The action lifted her behind enough that she could then swing to the side a bit until her hip bumped against her right wrist, then she lowered herself and performed the action again over and over until she had moved herself far enough along the branch that she could reach the bird.

Smiling at the thought of the meal she was going to make for Cam that night, Joan picked up the bird and moved it to lie between herself and the trunk on the branch she was on. She then began to shift herself back the way she’d come. She was perhaps halfway back when the bird she’d thought she’d killed proved otherwise and suddenly fluttered and squawked beside her. Startled, Joan jerked, one hand slipping off the branch, and then she was falling. Crying out, she grabbed for something to stop her fall, and then cried out again as her head slammed into a branch. Pain radiated through her head, and then through her whole body as she crashed to the ground. Joan moaned as darkness claimed her.