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The Scent of Jasmine Page 3
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“And that means . . . ?”
“Edilean, Virginia.”
“Does anyone in Charleston know that’s where you live?” He was checking the packs on his horse.
“Several people here know my family. My parents have been here often, and my brothers—”
“Spare me the family history. You can’t go home because that’s the first place they’ll go after they question Connor.”
“Can’t go home?” Cay smiled as she got up and went to her horse. “You have no idea who my father is, do you?”
“He can’t help you now. Get on your horse, and try to keep your legs covered. They distract me from my purpose.”
Cay wasn’t sure that was a compliment, but if it was, she didn’t like it. The images Hope had given her about what this man had done to his wife were vivid in her mind.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “My father knows a lot of people and he could—”
He reined his horse in tightly to stop beside her. “Your father was raised to be the laird of the McTern clan, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was,” she said proudly.
“Then he’ll be a man who protects his family?”
“Of course. He’s the best—”
“If you know that about him, then is it your intention to start a war between your father and the city of Charleston?”
“Of course not.”
“If you go home and hide with your father, he’ll no doubt fight to the death to protect you. Is it your aim to see your family dead?”
“No,” she said, her breath held because she knew that’s exactly what her father and brothers would do. “I don’t want that, and when my father hears of this—”
“I’m sure T.C. Connor will keep your father from hearing of it. What we must do is find you a safe place to hide until I can prove my innocence. When I’m free, so will you be.”
“But—” She stopped herself from saying that she wasn’t so sure he was innocent. “How can you prove you’re not guilty if you’re traipsing around in the jungles of Florida?”
“I need to give these people time to calm down. I found out at my trial that no one would listen to me. Too many people liked . . .” He looked as though he was about to choke.
“Your wife?” she asked. “People liked her?”
“Did you think I’d marry a woman no one liked?” he snapped.
“Your ingratitude astonishes me. After all I’ve risked for you, you—” She took a breath. Saying what she wanted to wasn’t going to help the situation. “What did the doctor say?”
“The bastard died of a heart attack the day after Lilith . . . left. She was buried before I saw her again.”
“If she was well liked, then the doctor died from shock of it all, it’s no wonder people want to hang you for murdering her.”
He seemed unperturbed by her accusation. “I will do more than hang the man who killed her,” he muttered. “Now follow me and don’t give me any more of your sass.”
As Cay followed him, she tried to think of a way out of this predicament. If she couldn’t return to her godfather, couldn’t go to other family friends, and she couldn’t go home, where could she go? How long did being a fugitive from justice last? Maybe she should take a ship to Scotland and stay with her father’s family for a while. But how long would that be? Six months? A year? The Scotsman said he wanted to let the authorities in Charleston “calm down”—or as he said it, “caum doon”—then he planned to find his wife’s real murderer. Would that take long? What if he really was the murderer? That would mean he’d never be cleared. He’d always be a wanted man—which would mean that Cay would also be wanted by the law forever.
She was still following him, but she was tempted to turn and head back to Charleston. But the memory of the men on the road looking for her, knowing who she was and where they could find her, stopped her. Also, the Scotsman’s words about her family’s reaction to all this kept her going forward. If she returned to Charleston, went to T.C.’s house, and gave herself up, she would no doubt be put in jail. She couldn’t imagine the anger that would engender in her family. She could almost see her father and her four brothers shooting their way in and out of the prison. Would one of them be killed?
When tears started rolling down her cheeks, she didn’t bother to wipe them away. She tried to think of something good, but all that came to mind was how stupid she’d been. This was the first time she’d ever traveled alone—by herself except for her maid and her footman, Cuddy—and she’d had to argue for the privilege.
“You’ll get into trouble without us there,” Tally had said.
“You’ll meet other men, so you’ll have more than three marriage proposals to think about,” Ethan said, his eyes full of merriment.
Nate gave her a list of books he wanted her to buy for him and said, “You’ll take care, won’t you?”
Adam had been the worst. He’d kissed her forehead and told her he trusted her, believed in her, and knew that she had enough wisdom to conduct herself with propriety at all times.
Cay glanced down the side of the horse and saw that one of her legs was exposed to above the knee. She tried to pull the cloak over it, but it was caught beneath her.
As for her father, when she asked his permission to travel alone, he’d said, “No.” Just that. “No.” Her mother said, “Don’t worry, I’ll persuade him”—and she did.
So now Cay had betrayed the trust of all of them—except for Tally, who thought his sister was a scatterbrained nincompoop.
“Here!” the Scotsman said and handed her a dirty handkerchief. When she hesitated in taking it, he said, “Your nose will dirty it more so why does it need to start out being clean?”
When she began to answer his question, he rolled his eyes skyward and urged his horse ahead of her.
Cay blew her nose, then held the filthy cloth at arm’s length, not sure what to do with it.
“Don’t drop it,” the Scotsman said quickly. “They’ll have dogs after us.”
Cay was so shocked by that thought that she did drop the cloth, but the Scotsman pulled back on the reins of his horse and grabbed the handkerchief before it hit the ground.
“You may not like me but we’re in this together,” he said angrily as he shoved the dirty cloth into a saddlebag. Then his voice softened. “I’m sorry, lass. I never meant to drag you into this, but then, I wouldn’t have sent a girl—”
“If you say ‘to do a man’s job’ again I’ll turn you in myself.”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a tiny smile under all the hair on his face.
“Come on, lass,” he said, “cheer up. If they catch me, you’ll get to see me hang.”
As he urged his horse forward, she said, “But will I hang next to you?”
“No. Tell them I kidnapped you. They’ll believe that.”
“I believe that,” she muttered as she kicked her horse and went after him.
Three
Cay’s legs hurt, her back ached, and she was so sleepy she could hardly hold on to the reins of the horse. They’d been riding all through the night and most of the day, and the poor horse was more tired than she was.
But she didn’t complain to the man she was following. She looked at his back, at the way he sat straight up in the saddle, with no signs of fatigue, and she wondered if he was human.
Abruptly, he turned back and was soon beside her. “We must rest the horses.”
She started to say that he could ask about her, but she didn’t. “Yes, my horse is quite exhausted,” she said in her haughtiest tone. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a bit of a smile in his blue eyes. With all the hair on his face, it was difficult to tell.
“I want you to wait here for me.” He motioned to a big oak tree with branches that hung down to the ground. “Stay on the horse or you’ll never get back on.”
“I think I’m fully capable of dismounting and remounting,” she said.
“Dis and re.” He