Page 63 of Highland Treasure (Highland Brides 9)

She was just stiffening at the suggestion that he might go find another lass to kiss when he clasped her thighs in hand, spread them and ducked in to press his lips to the center of her excitement. Elysande was reeling in shock from the bold move when he began to lash her with his tongue, showing her a whole other way of kissing. It was the first of many such lessons he taught her that night.

Chapter 16

“You appear to be well over the attack.”

Elysande turned from watching Rory and the other men settle the horses about a third of the way up the Mary Margaret’s empty hold, and peered at Simon with a somewhat weary smile. She hadn’t had much sleep the night before. Rory had kept her up well past the witching hour, showing her different ways of loving, and she had enjoyed every moment of it. But it had seemed to her that they’d barely, finally, drifted off to sleep before he was shaking her awake, kissing her cheek and urging her to dress because it was “time to go.”

“Aye, I am feeling much better, Simon. Thank you,” she murmured now, shifting her gaze back to Rory and the other men. While she was exhausted enough that she suspected she could drift off to sleep standing there on the deck of the cargo hold, leaning against the hull of the ship, Rory looked strong, and fit as ever. There wasn’t even a hint of tiredness showing on his face while she knew she probably had dark circles under her eyes and was no doubt pale with lack of sleep. Life could be so unfair sometimes.

“The Buchanan gave us the impression that you were dying,” Simon said now. “Yet you look fine.”

“Aye. Well, head wounds can be tricky,” she answered vaguely, wishing Rory would hurry and join her. She wasn’t at all comfortable lying to Simon, but there was nothing else she could do.

After getting her up and dressed that morning, Rory had opened the door to the hall to find Alick on a pallet blocking the threshold. It was only then that Elysande had realized he should have been in the room with them. At least, the man had been sleeping in the bed with her and Rory when she’d woken up in the middle of that first night. He’d also spent the day in the room with them, playing cards and other games to help pass the time. It was only when the bath had been ready that he’d left and gone below to sit with the men in the taproom, leaving Rory to guard her alone. She had heard Rory promise to call him back up when she was done with her bath. But Rory had never called him back. Instead, he’d taken a bath after her and then . . .

Elysande bit her lip and switched her gaze to Alick as she wondered what he’d thought when Rory hadn’t arrived to fetch him back to the room. Had he come up to see what was taking so long? If so, why hadn’t he knocked?

The obvious answer seemed to be that he’d stopped at the door and heard something that had made him think an interruption would not be appreciated, so had gone to request a pallet from Angus, the innkeeper, and had settled down to sleep outside the door, probably hearing all their love talk, and her cries of passion. The very possibility of that having happened was enough to make Elysande go scarlet with embarrassment.

Not that Alick had said or done anything to cause her embarrassment when Rory had woken him. The younger man had merely risen, wished them both “good morn” and taken the pallet to wherever he’d got it. He’d then returned to help them gather the bags and carry them down to the stable. The brothers had then quickly saddled the horses, all six of them, before Alick had returned to the dark inn to wake and fetch the men.

While he was gone, Elysande had helped Rory hook the bags over the pommels of hers and Rory’s saddles and then had mounted with no more than a leg up from him. That had been nice, she acknowledged now. It was really quite glorious to be without pain for a change.

Simon had been half-asleep and confused when Alick, Conn and Inan had led him out to the stables. He’d been complaining that it wasn’t even dawn yet, and asking what they were about as he walked. But had fallen into a shocked silence when he’d spotted Elysande astride her mount beside Rory on his. He’d tried to rush to her side, but Rory had moved his horse in front of hers and ordered him to mount up or be left behind.

Simon had glanced from him to Elysande, but then had mounted. He’d tried several times to move his horse close to hers during the short trot through the dark, empty streets of the city. But Alick had taken up position on one side of her, and Rory on the other, and neither man had made way for him. Simon had started asking questions then, asking when she had woken, and where they were going, but Rory had hushed him and said he would explain all later. That they needed to move quietly did they wish to escape de Buci’s men.

Simon had fallen silent as ordered, but he’d been practically vibrating with the questions he wanted answers to for the rest of the ride to the docks. And frankly, Elysande thought he deserved those answers. But he wasn’t asking them anymore. At least, not ones she could answer. She could hardly tell him that she hadn’t been badly hurt at all, but they had kept that from him because Rory suspected him of being her attacker. Besides, she had been unconscious for days, even if only because of the tincture Rory had given her and that she’d eagerly taken the first three mornings and evenings when she woke with her head pounding so violently she’d wanted to die. And she didn’t regret it at all. The days of sleep had not only given her head a chance to heal so it no longer ached, but it had gone a long way toward healing her ankle and back as well. Other than feeling tired, she had not felt this good in weeks.

“Your head wound is nearly completely healed,” Simon pointed out stiffly, drawing her attention back to him. “There is no swelling and it has scabbed over. It looks like it should have been little trouble at all.”

Elysande reached up and touched her forehead, realizing only then that in their rush to dress and head for the Mary Margaret, they hadn’t thought to replace the bandages on her head that she’d removed before her bath. Actually, they hadn’t thought to replace any of her bandages, although her chest wound really didn’t need it. In truth, none of her injuries needed it anymore. But they might have helped keep Simon from questioning her like an angry father.

“And I do not notice any stiffness in your movements, so can only presume your chest wound is not troubling you either,” Simon said tightly.

“The chest wound was a trifle,” Elysande said honestly. “’Twas really only the head wound that was a concern. However, the swelling went down, the pain eased and I woke yesterday morning.”

“And yet the Buchanan didn’t trouble himself to let the rest of us know?”

And that is where honesty gets you, Elysande thought grimly, but said, “In truth, he probably did not even think to tell you.” That was definitely a truth, she thought. Rory wouldn’t have even considered it because he suspected the man of being behind the attack. But she didn’t say that: instead she told him, “He had a great many questions for me about the attack, and then had much to tell me about it as well, and then, of course, there were the preparations to make for this trip to Sinclair.”

“Sinclair?” Simon asked sharply. “That is where we are going?”

“Of course. It is always where we were going,” she pointed out.

“Aye, but I thought we would ride there,” he muttered with a frown.

“So did I,” she admitted. “But the boat will cut the length of our journey in half and we can get the warning to the king sent much sooner than if we had traveled by horse.”

Simon looked away briefly, and then turned back to ask, “What about Tom? Rory said he sent him with Fearghas and Donnghail to Buchanan to fetch back coin to pay for the inn. Are we just going to leave without him?” he asked, and then added, “That’s not right. We should get off this ship at once. We cannot leave Tom behind.”

He grasped her elbow and tried to tug her toward the steps leading out of the cargo, but Elysande pulled free and scowled at him. Perhaps it was just that Rory had raised questions in her mind, but his behavior was making her very suspicious. “Tom will be fine. Rory left a message for him at the inn. He will follow us to Sinclair with Fearghas and Donnghail.”

“But—”

“We are sailing for Sinclair, Simon. ’Twas our goal from the start. Get to Sinclair, give him my mother’s messages and have him send them on to the king.”

“I cannot guard you alone, m’lady,” Simon said with frustration. “’Twas bad enough when it was just Tom and I, but now I alone stand between you and de Buci and I really think we should get off this ship and wait for Tom so that he can help me keep you safe.”

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