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The Hunter Page 23
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Janet couldn’t hide her surprise. Was that the lord he’d spoken of who’d fostered him? The Stewart Lords of Bute were one of the most important clans in the country. “You are connected to the Stewarts?”
A wry smile turned his mouth, as if he guessed the direction of her thoughts. “Not closely. My mother was Sir James’s cousin—his favorite, as it happened.” Seeing her confusion, he sighed as if resigning himself to having to say more. “My mother was betrothed to the Chief of Lamont when she met my father—one of his chieftains—and decided to marry him instead. Needless to say, the Lamont chief was not happy. He went to war with my father and would have destroyed him without Sir James’s help.” He shook his head. “Ironically, it was my father being cut off from the rest of the clan that gave me the ability to save it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like the MacDougalls, the MacDowells, and the Comyns, my cousin—the current chief—and his clansmen stood against Bruce and have been exiled and had the clan lands dispossessed, except for my lands in Ardlamont. Were it not for my connection to the Stewarts, and thus to Bruce, I would be with them. As it stands, I am the last Lamont in Cowal. My clan lives or dies with the skill of my sword, so to speak.”
Janet was stunned. No wonder he seemed so stubborn and single-minded about every mission. The future of the once great clan rested on his broad shoulders. But something else he’d said gave her a whisper of possibility. “You are a chieftain?”
He held her gaze. “Do not be too impressed, my lady. It is a minor holding only—with half a castle.”
Her brows furrowed, not understanding the sarcasm. “Until the king rewards you with more for your service?”
He shrugged. “If that is his will.”
She eyed him speculatively. Though he’d said it with nonchalance, she sensed how much it mattered to him. This was what drove him. Reward and a position for his clan under a Bruce kingship.
It also provided another explanation for why he’d stopped. Despoiling the king’s sister-in-law was hardly likely to ingratiate him to Robert.
But there was no reason Robert should ever find out. Not that she thought that was likely to sway Ewen. He was proving to have an inconveniently steely streak of honor in him.
She bit her lip, wondering if there was another way. Despite his continued rejection and appalling behavior in walking away from her in the middle of lovemaking, she still wanted him and wasn’t going to give up.
Why it was so important to her, she didn’t know. Either she was a glutton for punishment or there was something truly special between them that was worth the continued blows to her pride. And then there was the passion. The undeniable attraction that sprang up between them like wildfire. She could not discount that.
In any event, “I can’t do this” wasn’t an answer she intended to accept. It sounded too much like no. If Mary’s voice whispered a warning, Janet pushed it aside. She knew what she was doing. Besides, there was no one else around to get hurt.
He scanned the area behind her. “We’ve rested long enough.”
She lifted a brow in question. “Resting” wasn’t how she would describe what they’d been doing.
If she wasn’t sure that it was impossible for him to blush, she would have sworn his cheeks darkened as he took in her meaning. “Aye, well, you can sleep once I’m sure that we’ve lost them.”
“I think I’d prefer to do some more resting.”
He shot her a reproachful glare. “Janet …”
He might have been scolding a naughty pup. She blinked up at him innocently. “What?”
“It isn’t going to happen. I told you it was a mistake. It’s over. Over.”
She smiled, knowing that neither of them believed him. It wasn’t over; it had just begun.
Ewen pushed them mercilessly, as much to put distance between them and the English as to keep her too busy to plot his downfall.
The lass was trouble.
And stubborn.
And too bold by half.
She was also smart.
And achingly sweet.
And far stronger than he’d ever expected.
He couldn’t believe she was still on her feet. So far today she’d been hunted by dogs, attacked by an English knight, killed said knight with a well-placed dagger to the leg, trudged for miles knee-deep in an icy river, suffered a bath in that icy water, and hiked for miles over frozen, mist-topped hills. As if that weren’t enough, she’d also come within a hair’s breadth of ruin.
One orgasm couldn’t make up for all that. Though it had been one hell of an orgasm. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the look of ecstasy and surprise on her face as her body had shattered under him. The rush of color to her cheeks, the half-lidded eyes hazy with passion, the softly parted lips swollen from his kiss.
Jesus. Heat swelled in his sorely abused groin. The release he’d taken in his hand after leaving her had barely taken the edge off. How was he going to keep his hands off her until they reached the coast, when all he could think about was finishing what they’d started?
The lass had invaded his senses, penetrated his defenses, and slipped under his skin. He wanted her with every fiber of his being. Even exhausted, his leg on fire, cold and hungry, he couldn’t look at her without thinking about throwing her down on the ground, wrapping those long, slim legs around his waist, and giving her exactly what she was asking for.
So he did what any fearless warrior would do: he didn’t look at her.
But he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. More resting … bloody hell! Was she trying to kill him? God knew why, but the lass had gotten it in her head to give him her innocence. Did she have any idea how hard it was for him to refuse that kind of an offer?
Of course, she didn’t, and after hearing her views on marriage, he sure as hell wasn’t going to enlighten her. He had no doubt he’d have to drag her kicking and screaming all the way to Dunstaffnage. Bruce was going to have a hell of a battle on his hands when she found out about his plans.
The worst part was that he wasn’t sure he blamed her. He’d never considered marriage from a woman’s perspective before, but he had to admit, her concerns were not without merit. He’d always taken for granted a man’s role of absolute authority. To a woman like Janet who was used to making her own decisions, it would be stifling. She would chafe against those bindings at every turn.
But what was the alternative? Ewen wasn’t like MacKay, he couldn’t let his wife follow them into battle. He frowned. Although he had been grateful more than once to have a skilled healer at hand.
Helen is different, he told himself.
But wasn’t Janet?
They climbed to a small plateau in the hillside, and he stopped. Though it was only a few hours after noon, daylight was already fading.
“Wait here,” he said, pointing to a rocky outcrop. As he’d done every few miles, he let her catch her breath while he circled back to attempt to hide their tracks. The snow on the ground had hardened as the temperature dropped the higher they climbed on the mountain, making it easier to do so. But where the ground was too soft, instead of hiding, he set about confusing their pursuers by walking backward, breaking off in other directions for a while, or making a number of footprints in one area.
When he returned a few minutes later, she was seated on one of the rocks, watching him. “Is anyone following?”
He shook his head.
But something made her curious. “Why did you stop to look at the bracken back there?”
He sat down beside her and pulled out his skin. After taking a long swig, he handed it to her. “Some of the stems were broken where we brushed by.”
She frowned. “I thought you were hiding our footprints.”
“I’m hiding our tracks.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
He shook his head. “I’m looking for any disturbances on the landscape, not just footsteps. Any sign that someone might have passed.”