Page 18 of Pretty in Plaid
“Then ye’d best warn me if ye duck beneath a branch, as it’s dark as sin out here.”
Sin...what he wanted to do with her.
They’d made it several hours from the croft they’d taken shelter in and had at least another few to go before they reached the Ledgowan Forest. There within the depths of the trees was a rebel camp where he planned for them to stop at and rest during the day. Those in the camp were quite discreet, and more often than not were away during the day on various missions. There would be safety within those numbers and perhaps even fires to keep Kenna warm.
Sorley had no use for outside heat, as he found himself hot enough as it was. He might just break the ice on the nearest stream and shove himself beneath the frigid depths.
A swift, frosty wind blew then, and though Kenna tried to stifle her whimper, he heard her loud and clear. Sorley stilled his horse, waiting for her to ride up beside him.
“Come here,” he said with a wave of his arm.
“Wh-what?” she asked through her chattering teeth.
“Ye’re freezing, and we’ve hours ahead of us. Let’s share warmth for now, and when we’ve need to ride hard, ye can get back atop your own mount.”
“All right.” She didn’t hesitate, and he was glad, though he’d had several arguments as to why she should ride with him at the ready.
Your uncle will cut off as many of my fingers and toes as ye lose from freezing.
If ye freeze to death, I shall be bound by duty to bury myself alive with your cold body as I promised no’ to leave ye.
If ye dinna listen, I will simply bound and gag ye and toss ye over the back of my horse.
But she held out her arms to him willingly, and he pulled her from her horse onto his lap, wrapping her in the extra lengths of his plaid. She shivered against him, curling her face against his chest. The lass was as frozen as the ground around them.
“Count your blessings it’s no’ yet snowing.” He looked up into the black night sky, dotted with stars. There were a few wisps of clouds hiding the moon, but not enough to warn him of impending weather.
“Than-k-k ye,” she chattered against his chest.
“I but do my duty, lass.” And perhaps a wee bit more, for he liked her nestled against him, and not just from the sheer enjoyment of her lush feminine body pressed to his, but because for some reason when he held her, he felt oddly at home. It made no sense, of course, but he wasn’t about to argue with himself, as he was clearly deranged, and everyone knew there was no point in arguing with a madman.
Within minutes, her chattering and shivering ceased, and her soft breath blew warm against his chest as she slept. She was a tough lass, or at least tried to be, and yet she was still fragile enough that he had an intense urge to protect her. From dragoons, the elements, whatever might come their way.
Sorley let her sleep, going as fast as he dared with two of them on the horse. He did not want to injure his mount, for they were still a day and a half at least away from their destination of the ferry that would take them across to Skye, where her uncle’s men waited for them to arrive. They’d then be escorted to Dunvegan Castle, and she’d be presented before the man she was inclined to despise. Sorley hoped she would forgive her uncle, for the man had thought his choice best when he didn’t claim her after her parents’ death. And Sorley himself knew the MacLeod to be a generous laird and father figure. Where would Sorley be if he’d not been taken under the laird’s wing when he too lost his family?
As planned, when the sun started to rise, they meandered a tangled forest of pines, then passed through the bare oaks and elms free of leaves in the winter. He knew these woods by heart, could traverse them blindfolded whether it was spring or the dead of winter. He lifted his hand to block a branch, and the movement caused Kenna to stir.
She sat up, her cheeks slightly red from the warmth of being buried beneath a plaid and against his chest.
“Good morning,” he said. “We’re nearly there.”
“Oh.” She scrubbed her eyes with her fingers that no longer trembled, nor were they blue with cold. “Ye were supposed to wake me.”
“Ye looked so comfortable, and we did no’ run into trouble, so it seemed only fair.”
“Aye, but it couldna have been comfortable for ye.” She shifted, sitting up higher, the wind rustling her hair enough that it tickled his neck.
Sorley cleared his throat. “Trust me, lass. ’Twas verra comfortable.”Too comfortable.
A sharp whistle rent the air, and Sorley stilled the horses.
“What was that?” Kenna jerked her head about, looking for the source.
“The scouts. They keep an eye on the forest to alert the camp of anyone’s approach.” Sorley scanned the trees for signs of the rebels.
“Do they know ye?”
Sorley spotted a man hidden well above them, , his bow trained on them. “Most do, but even still, I’ll have to give the signal.”
