Defended by a Highland Renegade Page 3

  "Let's go." He shoved the plaid into her hands.

  The strong scent of urine overwhelmed her. "Ugh." She flung the material back at him.

  "What now?" he grumbled.

  "Didn't you smell that?"

  Lifting it, he sniffed. "'Tis not that strong. After working in a stable for days, I'm lucky to be able to smell anything."

  "Well… I'm not wearing that." She cringed.

  "You were in the manure wagon earlier."

  "Aye, but the straw kept most of the dung off me. The reek of this arisaid is far worse."

  "Look at it this way—people will stay away from you." The humor in his tone grated on her nerves.

  "'Tis not funny. I'll not go into town stinking of pee."

  "What do you think the town smells like? No one will notice."

  She ground her teeth. "I'm sensitive to horrible odors. That makes me want to retch."

  "I'll carry the arisaid for now, but if we encounter people, you will need to put it on. And I'm thinking you'll survive." Again, his amusement came through in his tone.

  "I told you, I hate the stench of it."

  They made their way back to the road, her hand around his elbow so she wouldn't step in a hole on the muddy road and fall.

  "You don't want someone to report seeing a fancy lady in the company of an outlaw wearing a moth-eaten plaid, do you?" He glanced down at his clothing. "I dressed this way intentionally."

  She'd thought he had no choice in the matter. "Why do you dress that way?"

  He was silent for a long moment, then snapped, "You ask too many questions. Save your breath. We have miles to walk to reach the harbor."

  At his boorish tone, she snatched her hand away from his elbow.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I can walk on my own. I thank you very much." She should be used to irritable men, given who her brother was, but with Dugald she could overlook it. With Darack she wasn't sure she could. He had been kind and understanding since she'd encountered him in the stables. For him to suddenly become bossy and bad-tempered annoyed her. And even hurt her feelings a wee bit.

  "Are you tired?" he asked.

  "Aye, but what does it matter? I'm a strong woman. I can endure it."

  "I have no doubt of it, but if you become too tired and weak to walk, I'll carry you."

  "What? Nay!" she said. His words startled her. She didn't know if he was being kind or showing off how strong he was. Anyway, if she became incapable of walking, it would be because she'd passed out. Otherwise, she was showing no weakness before him.

  "'Twill be a long journey if you argue with everything I say the entire time," he said.

  "I'm not arguing. I'm simply telling you that I'm strong enough to walk." Though she did not like his attitude, she forced herself to ignore it. 'Twas not much different from Dugald's brusque tone, and she had dealt with him the whole of her life.

  She needed to throw off the spoiled label her brothers had always saddled her with. After all, she was a grown woman, not a wee lass anymore. She straightened her shoulders, trying to look stronger, at least, even if she didn't yet feel that way, and walked faster.

  "All my life, I've been hiding out and lying low while in certain areas of the country, especially the Lowlands," he said. "If you wish to stay alive long enough to reach your home, you must do everything I say."

  She rolled her eyes, then glared at his shadowy form in the moonlight. 'Twas too much for her to ignore. "Bossy, are we?"

  He sighed.

  "Fine," she said. "I will do what you say, unless it's something completely stupid."

  "Do not question it, even if it sounds stupid. I'll not be steering you wrong, lass." This last he said with gentle intensity, as if urging her to trust in him.

  Obviously, she did trust him to an extent, otherwise she would've never left with him. Still, she didn't know him very well.

  "Why are you helping me, Darack? Truly?"

  Silent for a long moment, he glanced about as if searching for the answer. "I like your brothers and your whole clan. They've been friendly to my clan. If I had a sister in a mess like you're in, I'd want Dugald or Tòmas to help her return home, if he could. 'Tis what Highlanders do—assist one another. Family is the most important thing."

  "Aye," she said softly. His simple words made her throat tighten and her eyes burn. She'd heard the heartfelt sentiment beneath. He didn't have much, but he still had family and friends. And his Highland honor. Indeed, family was most important. She would give everything she owned to be back at Rornoch already. The dresses of her trousseau had been so important to her when she'd had them made, but now she realized how little they meant and how shallow she'd been.

  Another thought came to her—maybe Darack was brusque and bossy at times because he'd had a difficult life, which had hardened him to an extent. But still, he cared about family.

  They continued walking for another a half hour, then he turned abruptly and looked back. Faintly, she heard the clomping of hooves.

  Chapter 3

  "'Tis a wagon. I hear the wheels rattling." Panic increased Mairiana's heartrate.

  "Aye. Put on the arisaid over your gown and cloak," Darack murmured urgently.

  She struggled with the large piece of woven material. "I need help."

  He grabbed it and wrapped it around her, throwing the top portion over her head. She held her breath lest the stench of it send her into a gagging fit. Quickly, he took something from his sporran—it looked like a thin piece of leather string—and tied it around her waist like a makeshift belt. No doubt she looked very much the peasant now.

  "Keep that over your head and hide your face."

  The horrid smell constricting her throat, she coughed. "Why? I can hardly stand the strong odor of it."

  He snorted, almost derisively. "Why do you think? It might be someone from Lenor who would recognize you. In any event, you have the beautiful face of a lady."

  She frowned, unsure whether to be flattered or not. His tone said he hadn't meant it as a compliment. "'Tis dark," she said.

  "Aye, but fair, smooth skin is easy to see in moonlight. And he has a lantern."

  "Very well." She would tolerate the stinky material over her head until she was out of the man's sight.

  They waited at the side of the road while the wagon, drawn by one old nag, approached. She wished they could've brought the wagon they'd sneaked outside on, despite its stink, but then they… or rather Darack… would be accused of horse thievery, a hanging offense. Nay, they were well rid of the dung wagon. The one approaching appeared to be the sort of wagon used to haul food and supplies, but was empty at the moment. The driver slowed and stopped beside them. "Going to town?"

  Darack nodded. "Could you spare us a ride? My wife is tired of walking."

  "Aye, get on, then." The stranger motioned over his shoulder.

  Wife? What the devil? Why did Darack feel the need to lie? Why not sister?

  Darack helped her onto the wagon while she glared at him. Of course, he couldn't see her expression the way he'd made her hide her face beneath the stinky arisaid that enshrouded her.

  "I thank you," Darack called to the driver, who grunted in response and snapped the reins. The wagon jerked forward.

  She shoved the cowl off her head and breathed deeply of the fresh air.

  The road was rough, full of ruts and potholes, which jarred her about. After a few moments, her derriere was aching. She clenched her teeth. "Ow," she growled low among other grunts. "I should've simply walked."

  "Come." Darack shocked her by drawing her close and lifting her onto his lap.

  "Are you mad?" she asked, trying to scoot off his lap again, but he wouldn't let her.

  "Sit still," he hissed, pulling her tight against him.

  She had never sat on a man's lap before. Though she did enjoy the sensation of him holding her close, and the amazing feel of his hard body, she could not allow this. Could she? "This is indecent!" she whispered. "And cannot be com
fortable for you, besides."

  "Comfort has never been a part of my life," he said stoically.

  She stilled, but remained tense, unable to look at him. When he said things like that… tears formed in her eyes. Why should she care if he'd had a rough life? Well… she didn't know… but she did care. He was a good man. Something about him made her feel warm and tender inside.

  He's not a puppy, Mairiana! He's a man. A scoundrel and rogue, most like.

  "All the more reason for me not to sit here," she said.

  "Nay. I insist that you remain where you are. We can't have you getting sore and bruised all over. We have a long way to travel."

  Sitting on his lap was not much better than the rough boards of the wagon, for the muscles of his thighs were near as hard as stone. Besides, sitting upon him made her apprehensive. If one of her brothers saw her, he would give her a sound thrashing for being so unladylike.

  Darack tugged her closer, holding her tight. "Relax and lean on me," he murmured into her ear.

  She nodded and tried to do as he bid, but 'twas not easy. The feel of him was doing strange, heated things to her body and she was starting to like the sensation far too much.

  "I'll try to find you more clothes," he whispered.

  Glancing aside, she eyed him in the dimness—his dark eyes and short beard, which hid his square jaw. "I told you the odor of this arisaid was foul."

  "'Tis not so bad. I've smelled a lot worse."

  She blushed, hating that she smelled horrible, though 'twas his fault, not hers. She always made a point of bathing daily and wearing a fragrant rose water or lavender essence. "'Tis obvious now why this arisaid was left on that clothesline to air out all night. They could've at least washed it first."

  He snorted. "Aye, because they should've guessed an elegant lady wanted to borrow it," he said dryly.

  She looked heavenward, praying for patience. Was he teasing her? Or did he truly have no respect for her because of her refined ways? What did he expect? From the time she was a small lass, her mother had raised her to be an elegant lady. 'Twas all she knew.

  The longer she sat on Darack's lap, the warmer she became. It was as if her reserve melted away mile by mile, but she could not say she was relaxed. She simply grew more and more aware of him. She enjoyed the whiffs of his masculine scent, far more appealing than the scent of her arisaid. In fact, she wanted to throw off her cover-up and sink into Darack's manly smell.

  Her body memorized the feel of his—the lean muscled wall of his chest she leaned against, his firm thighs that supported her. His strong arm around her made her feel safer and more protected than she had since she'd left home.

  Darack's soft breath stirred her hair, tickling her ear and sending shivers down through her body. It was an exciting and enchanting sensation which made her heart pound harder. She wanted to look into his mysterious, dark eyes again, but dared not. Her face was too close to his, which made her wonder what his lips would feel like on hers. Was she insane? She had just ended her betrothal; she was in no position to be drawn to another man already.

  Alec was the wrong man for you. That thought blasted through her mind.

  Well, obviously he was. She only wished she'd known that weeks ago, before the betrothal ceremony. She could've saved herself and her clan a lot of trouble. Everyone in her clan had attended the betrothal ceremony; therefore they were not on their way to attend the wedding. In many ways, she was glad for that. At least they wouldn't come into contact with Alec.

  A half hour later, Darack turned to the driver and called, "We'll get off here." When the wagon drew to a stop, Darack helped her slide to the ground then got off. "I thank you again, friend!"

  The driver waved to them and drove on.

  She was glad to be standing again, stretching her legs, though she did miss Darack's closeness. "Had enough of the jolting, aye?" she asked.

  "Nay, it did not bother me. This is a short cut to the harbor and the docks. We need to take a ferry up the River Tay as the tide's coming in." He took her hand. "Pull that cowl over your head again. We have to slip through a disreputable part of town."

  "Oh, joy," she muttered. "My scent will fit right in."

  He laughed softly, distracting her. His smile made him even more handsome and his laugh was contagious. It gave her a little thrill in the pit of her stomach.

  She wanted to smile, but she had an important question for him. "Why did you tell that man I was your wife? You could've said sister."

  His close observation in the moonlight disturbed her. "You ended up sitting on my lap." One corner of his lips lifted. "I made the right decision."

  That was true. Her face burned again, and she was glad it was too dark for him to see the blood-red shade of her skin. Did he always have to be right? She ground her teeth in frustration.

  "Besides, I don't think of you as a sister," he said.

  Well, nay. She didn't think of him as a brother either, but what did it matter?

  "'Tis simpler." He took her hand and looped it through his elbow and they set off walking through the moonlight, across a meadow toward some cottages. "People will leave you alone if they believe you're my wife," he whispered. "And we won't draw suspicion."

  "I see."

  "'Tis naught but a role, like in a play."

  No doubt he'd made up such lies the whole of his life, out of necessity. "How many roles have you played?"

  "I have no inkling. I reuse some of the same ones, over and over."

  "How much fun it must be to pretend to be someone else. Your life must be fascinating and filled with adventure."

  "I would not call it that. But now is your chance to pretend to be someone else. What name will you choose?"

  "Bella. 'Tis a name I've always liked."

  "Very well then, Bella Grant."

  The sound of the faux name did strange things to her—gave her a small thrill and made her wonder what her life would be like if she truly was Bella, Darack's wife. "Have you had a pretend wife before?"

  "Nay. I rarely travel with women. My cousin once, but we didn't have to lie on that one."

  "Aye, why couldn't you have told the man I'm your cousin? I didn't need to sit on your lap. I would've survived the jolting wagon just as you did."

  "Why are you so concerned about it?" he asked.

  She shrugged. "No one has ever pretended I was their wife before. It just surprised me." She'd always thought Alec would be the one introducing her as his wife soon. But now that would never happen.

  Darack glanced down at the lass walking beside him through the predawn moonlight. Her firm hold on his arm told him she trusted him, as did her conversation. He liked her forthright questions. She was a privileged lady without the artifice and manipulation many such ladies practiced. He saw this with every mile they traveled together and that was his favorite thing about her. Of course, she was a stunning beauty, which he appreciated, too. But her honesty and warmth burrowed into the depths of his soul… as did her trust in him.

  When he thought back about her sitting on his lap… that had been the most appealing and enjoyable thing he had experienced in months. He almost grinned, but clenched his jaw instead. Aye, 'twas true he had a most carnal attraction to her, but beyond that, he simply enjoyed being in her presence. Something about her made him want to smile, whether he was touching her or not. He didn't remember ever experiencing that before, nor did he understand it. What he did understand was that he had to protect her at all costs and make sure she got home safely.

  He withdrew his foot-long Highland dirk and held it by his leg as they quietly walked past the run-down cottages on the outskirts of Dundee. He hoped all the thieves and other disreputable men were passed out from the drink or otherwise asleep at this wee hour of the morn.

  He sensed Mairiana's increased tension and trepidation as she glanced about for hidden dangers. Her wariness did not sit well with him.

  ***

  Just after dawn, Mairiana hid beside the buildings at
the harbor while Darack went to inquire when the ferry would leave. She kept the cowl of the arisaid securely over her head and prayed that neither Alec nor any of his clan or servants were yet aware that she'd left Lenor Castle.

  "Come," Darack said, startling her. "The ferry will leave soon."

  She took his hand, and he set a brisk pace across the wharf. Pausing, he dropped two coins into the captain's hand. She dared not even look the man in the eye lest he tell someone—Alec or his clansmen—of her whereabouts.

  Once on board the vessel, Darack led her through the passengers to the far back rail where it was less crowded. She pushed the stinky cowl back from her face and inhaled a deep breath of the salty sea breeze. Though it smelled slightly fishy, 'twas far better than the urine scent.

  As she watched all the strangers boarding, she relaxed marginally. Soon, she would be away from Alec, never to see him again. While they waited, her stomach growled loudly.

  "You're hungry." Darack observed her with a frown of concern.

  "Not much. I'll be fine." She didn't want him to worry about her. Besides, nerves had made her stomach queasy. Only getting away from here would make her feel better.

  "Wait here." Darack turned away.

  "Nay. Where are you going?" She grabbed onto his sleeve.

  "To buy you a scone afore you starve."

  "I told you, I will be fine."

  "'Twill only take a moment. Wait here." He strode away.

  Anxiety flooded her and she hoped he would hurry. She watched him head back through the crowd boarding, then he spoke to the captain. The man nodded and Darack proceeded along the docks to where a woman was selling fresh baked scones from a small push cart. Mairiana was starting to think Darack was too kind to be any sort of outlaw. In fact, he was kinder than most non-outlaws she knew. She hadn't asked him for food. He'd simply heard her stomach growl.

  "Lady Mairiana!" someone called from the docks.

  Shocked, she glanced aside to see Alec and his men running along the quay.

  Chapter 4

  Upon seeing her former fiancé and his Lindsay clansmen, terror flashed through Mairiana. "Oh, good lord!" she gasped and fled to the opposite side of the ferry, stumbling into other passengers. She looked about for an escape route, but found none, other than the plank where she'd boarded and that was close to Alec.