Page 43 of Highland Treasure (Highland Brides 9)

Glancing down, he stared at the top of her head and found himself smiling faintly. Sleep was valued too highly, he decided. Sometimes going without was worth it.

Elysande woke to a lovely almost springlike morning, and eight grumpy men. Truly, the lot of them were all red eyed with weariness and cranky as her father on the rare morning after partaking of too much whiskey. They were also strangely reluctant to let her leave the clearing on her own.

“I do not need even one of you to accompany me, let alone three,” she repeated with frustration for about the tenth time.

“We will no’ look,” Rory growled for the tenth time in response. “Tom, Simon and I will stand with our backs to ye while ye . . . attend to matters,” he finished delicately.

The very idea of them standing around her while she squatted and watered the grass was unbearable even to consider. “Why?” she asked finally with desperation. “I have attended the matter on my own before without difficulty. Why are you insisting on my having a guard now?”

That brought about an exchange of glances among the three men confronting her. It made Elysande’s eyes narrow. “What has happened?”

“Nothing,” Rory responded sharply.

Tom rolled his eyes, and answered more honestly. “We are concerned about de Buci’s men. They no doubt would have finished their search of Carlisle by midmorn yesterday—”

“Or sooner if someone gave us up for coin,” Rory put in on a mutter.

“Either way,” Tom continued, “they obviously know we are headed for Scotland and would have crossed the border shortly after us. If they rode past sunset, they could be close.”

“But they only reached Carlisle at dawn,” she pointed out. “Surely their horses would have needed rest and prevented their leaving again so quickly.”

“They could have traded their mounts for fresh ones from the garrison in Carlisle,” Tom said gently.

Elysande’s eyes widened at the suggestion. She hadn’t thought of that. But it still didn’t explain why the men were suddenly so worried about her finding a spot to relieve herself alone. She pondered that briefly and then stilled and glanced sharply at Rory. “The sounds in the woods last night. You said a rabbit probably caused the breaking branches.”

He flinched at her accusatory tone, but said defensively, “It may have been.”

“I have yet to see a rabbit so big it would break a branch large enough to make loud snapping sounds like the ones we heard,” Elysande said impatiently as she realized that truth. She must have been exhausted to have believed the line last night. Or still overset by the passion she’d experienced in his arms, she admitted to herself, and glanced worriedly toward the woods. “If they are out there, why are they not attacking?”

“It could have been a stag,” Rory pointed out, and then admitted reluctantly, “Or it could be that the men have split up into smaller groups of two or three to search a wider area, with the plan to fetch the others to them if one of the groups came across us.”

“We do not know if ’twas an animal or man,” Tom added. “But ’tis better to be cautious, and if a couple of de Buci’s men have found us and they catch you on your own . . .”

Shoulders sagging, Elysande turned to head into the woods, and this time didn’t protest when the three men followed her.

Never having left Kynardersley with its privy chamber ere this trip, Elysande had found relieving herself in the woods something of an ordeal to begin with. But doing so with three men standing point around her had to be the most humiliating experience of her life to date. She’d never noticed it being a particularly loud maneuver before, but in the silent woods, with the men still and unspeaking around her, she was aware of every telltale sound she made, from the rustle of her clothing to the duty itself . . . and good Lord wasn’t that loud, Elysande noted with dismay, feeling her face heat up with a blush.

By the time she had finished and put her clothes back in order, Elysande was as grumpy as the men.

“Let us go,” she growled, moving past Rory to head for camp. “And you had best do what you can to lose our followers if we have any, because I am not doing that with an accompaniment of men next time,” she warned.

Whether because of her words, or not, Elysande didn’t know, but they rode hard through the first part of the morning. Then they slowed to a trot and veered off the trail to travel through the woods when they came to a thick stand of trees that offered cover. They traveled through it and onto another trail and then picked up speed again.

With the weather much warmer, the snow had completely melted away, leaving mud in its wake. Elysande hoped that didn’t make it easy to follow them, but suspected it would. Perhaps that was why Rory didn’t call a halt for the nooning meal. Instead, Alick dropped back briefly to pass out oatcakes to each of them that they ate in the saddle.

Determined not to have to relieve herself with a guard, Elysande refused to drink anything when they passed the ale skin around. Still, by midafternoon her “teeth were floating” as she’d once heard one of her father’s soldiers say. Even worse though, the liniment was wearing off and her back was starting to pain her again.

Elysande did her best to ignore it, but was relieved beyond measure when Rory apparently noticed the way she was shifting repeatedly in the saddle trying to ease her discomfort, and called out to Conn to halt. She agreed at once when he rode up beside her to suggest he apply more liniment to her back, and Rory escorted her alone into the trees to perform the task. Unlike the night before, he was quick and efficient without the least hint of impropriety. Elysande didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed at that. She was very aware that the men weren’t far away, waiting, but she had enjoyed his kisses and would have liked more.

Despite what she’d said that morning, when Rory finished and suggested she take the opportunity to relieve herself while he stood guard, Elysande did. It was still embarrassing, but much less embarrassing than wetting herself in the saddle would have been.

The moment they returned to the men, they set off again. They rode through the afternoon and continued on even after the sun set this night. But the moon was high and the sky was clear, leaving the trail easy to see.

While Elysande suspected she was the only one who had got a proper night’s sleep, she was the first to flag and actually began to nod off in the saddle. The first time was an hour or so after darkness fell, but she caught herself and sat up abruptly, giving her head a shake in an effort to make herself more alert. However, moments later Elysande found her eyes sliding closed again and her head lowering and then was startled awake when Rory caught her around the waist and drew her into his lap.

She heard him order someone to take the reins of her horse, and considered telling him she was fine and insisting he put her back on her mare, but was just too tired to bother. She was across his lap, her good side against his chest, and the liniment was still working so that his arm around her back wasn’t bothering her, so Elysande simply gave in to the inevitable and curled up against his chest to sleep.

When next she opened her eyes, snow was falling and they were moving through a street lined with the dark hulking shapes of buildings. Blinking away a snowflake that had landed on her eyelashes, she sat up a little straighter to look around.

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