Page 34 of A Plaid Case of Loving Ye
The bairn began to fuss again and he held out his arms. The nun gratefully deposited Relic into his hands, and he held the wee lad up until their noses touched. “I ken, laddie. Are ye ready for an adventure?”
The bairn was sturdy, even at this young age, and his wee fists—still covered in slobber—batted at Ramsay’s cheek.
“Aye, we’ll ride long and hard, but I’ll keep ye safe, wee one. And after ye’re in my mother’s care, I’ll go find and kill yer fa—”Nay. He wouldn’t call MacDonald that. “The bastard who hurt yer mother.”
Ramsay was the lad’s father now.
As if hearing—and understanding—his thoughts, Relic opened his mouth and latched onto Ramsay’s nose.
‘Twas a damp sensation. A wee tongue probed his nostril.
Chuckling, Ramsay removed himself from the bairn’s grip and tucked the lad against his shoulder. Relic twisted to grab onto the strap of his eyepatch and seemed content.
Sister Mary Titania was watching him speculatively. “I think the journey will be an eye-opening one for all of ye, nae offense intended.”
When she winked, he had to chuckle. “I’ve only the one eye, so I cannae afford to close it.” But then he sighed. “Aye, I only hope I’m no’ making a mistake, allowing Lady Nicola to accompany us.”
“Two innocents to care for?” The nun slowly shook her head, as if considering the situation. “Nay, this is what she—what ye both need. Lady Nicola thinks she kens what she wants from life, but she’s learning she’s wrong. ‘Tis up to ye, and that wee laddie, to show her the truth.”
With that mysterious prediction, the Mother Superior winked again, then chuckled and sauntered off.
Ramsay sighed and patted Relic’s back. “Well, wee one? Let’s go see if anyone’s packed yer nappies.”
Chapter 7
They leftbefore the sun was high in the sky, and Nicola had the impression Mother Superior was enthusiastically shooing them out the door.
“’Ave a safe journey, milord!” called Sister Mary Epiderma, waving an embroidered handkerchief. “’Opefully Lady Nicola can ‘elp ye wit’ the wee angel!”
Sister Mary Incontinenta was wiping at her tears. “Go with God, my friends, and safely ye’ll reach yer end! Ye’ll have our prayers, and…”
When she frowned, Sister Mary Tits McGee snorted. “And stay away from stairs!”
They all looked at her, and the Mother Superior shrugged, grinning brightly. “For fear of falling down them?”
Nicola hid her laughter and bid them all farewell, promising to write and update them as soon as she reached Ramsay’s home. Ramsay himself seemed anxious to leave, but was quiet as he pulled at the oars of the boat taking them to the village.
There, Ramsay lifted her into the saddle, letting his hands linger at her waist, as one does. “I’m sorry ye willnae have a carriage or cart, Nicola. We cannae afford the time ‘twould take—”
“Dinnae fash.” She tried for an encouraging grin, but suspected she failed. “I’ll be fine, I swear. I’m no’ a delicate bloom, to be crushed at the first sign of adversity.”
His head cocked to one side, studying her. His lips slowly curled up. “Mayhap yearea playwright. ‘Twas beautifully said, wee flower.”
The compliment made her want to blush, which was ridiculous. She tamped down the urge and said briskly, “Nonsense. I’m ahealer. That is where my talents lie.”
Mayhap she shouldn’t have dismissed his words, because his smile abruptly faded. He cleared his throat then held wee Relic up, under the arms. “Can ye hold him for a while? I want my sword arm to be free.”
“Aye, of course.” Best to think of this journey as a mission to help the bairn. Naught between them except a desire to keep Relic safe.
Ramsay swung into his saddle and settled himself among the bundles and baskets the nuns had packed for them. With one hand wrapped around the reins and the other around the hilt of his sword, he looked every inch the warrior.
But when she shuddered, ‘twas not from fear. Nay, she was remembering the way those large, callused hands had felt against her bare skin, and the way his mouth—St. Crystal protect her! His mouth, so quick to smile, so full of kind words, had made her want to scream with pleasure.
“Nicola.” His expression serious, he held her gaze. “This will no’ be a comfortable journey. We’re going to ride hard and fast. ‘Twill no’ be a weakness if ye’d rather stay here or return to yer home.”
Her arm tightened around the squirming infant and her chin rose stubbornly. “I’ve made a vow, same as ye. I can keep up.”
“Then ye must ken that I have every intention of introducing ye as my wife and Relic as my son.” His expression gave naught away, and she couldn’t see if he liked the idea. “’Twill save explanations, and will keep ye safer than if rumors were to spread about ye traveling alone.”
