The Hunter Read online

  Ewen seemed caught up in the emotion as well. He tucked her under his arm again and soothed her with gentle strokes of her head. “Don’t fret, sweeting, all will be well.”

  Janet rested her cheek on the solid wall of his chest and took a shuddering breath. Good heavens, he felt good. With the strength of his arms around her, it was easy to believe him.

  “This horse is not for sale,” Ewen added, “but we will find another. Come, love.”

  He started to lead her away, but a voice stopped them. An irritated, nasally English voice. “Wait. Someone will explain to me what is going on here, now.”

  Janet muttered one of Ewen’s favorite curse words under her breath and looked up at the big Englishman looming over them in the saddle. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the heavy armor and numerous weapons shimmering in the sunlight that worried her, but the sharpness of his gaze. Beneath the steel helm, she could tell that the blue-eyed captain with the dark hair and neatly trimmed beard was no fool.

  And it was very clear that he wasn’t going to let them just walk away.

  Eighteen

  The way the soldier was looking at Ewen sent chills racing up and down Janet’s spine. And Ewen—blast it—wasn’t making any effort to deflect suspicion. He was acting every inch the fierce and formidable warrior, using his war-honed, muscular body to shield her.

  Jerusalem’s temples! He might as well have shouted his occupation. He looked like a man who was born with a sword in his hand and would fight to the death to protect what was his. In this case, her.

  It would be rather sweet, if it weren’t going to get them killed.

  “My wife and I are making our way to Whithorn Abbey to pray for the child,” he said curtly, the authority of a Highland chieftain booming in his voice. Good gracious, could he not at least attempt to fake deference? “We lost our horse, and I was trying to buy this one from the farmer.” He motioned to the horse in the yard. “I was not aware it did not belong to him. If you would be interested in selling—”

  “I am not,” the captain interrupted. “Is this true?” he asked the farmer.

  The old man nodded. “Aye, he offered me ten pounds for the animal.”

  From behind Ewen’s broad shoulder—which was impressive, she had to admit—Janet didn’t like the way the soldier’s eyes narrowed. He took in Ewen’s simply garbed appearance. “What kind of peasant walks around with that much coin?”

  Janet could practically hear Ewen grinding his teeth. He truly was horrible at this. Mild-mannered, unassuming, and politic didn’t seem to be in his nature. ’Twas a good thing he was such a good warrior; he wouldn’t last two days as a courier.

  “The kind who is going to an abbey to pray for an unborn child,” he snapped.

  Janet groaned at the unmistakable sarcasm in his voice. Why didn’t he just draw his sword? The effect was the same.

  This had gone on long enough. It was clear she needed to do something, and fast. Drawing the soldier’s attention away from Ewen, for starters.

  She hoped this would work. She’d been pretending to be a nun for so long, she was a bit out of practice. Fortunately, with nothing better to do while she’d been waiting earlier, she’d taken some pains with her appearance. With a toss of her freshly combed hair over her shoulder, she tugged the dress down a bit over her chest and stepped out from behind her “husband.”

  She smiled sweetly at the irate soldier (Ewen’s tone had obviously not gone unnoticed). “My husband is not a peasant, my lord,” she said, walking toward him. She thought Ewen growled something, but she ignored his warning. “He is a master builder. For the last two years, he has been working on improvements to the castle at Roxburgh.” That ought to explain the heavily muscled physique as well as the calluses on his hands, were the captain to look.

  She was rather fond of those calluses …

  Her skin tingled, and she had to force her mind away from why.

  Before the Englishman could ask more questions, she heaved a weary sigh, not missing the way his gaze fell to the tight bodice of her gown. She looked up at him tearily, giving him her best helpless, maiden-in-distress look. It took some effort. “My husband … he is worried about me and the child,” she said by way of apology for Ewen’s manners. “It has been a difficult journey.” Her voice went higher and faster with her increasing distress. “The storm came, and then I lost the horse, and you see he was so angry—rightly so, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

  The soldier shot Ewen a look as if he didn’t agree at all. Janet regretted having to cast him in the role of bully, but it was necessary to bring out the soldier’s chivalrous nature. “I had to keep stopping every mile, and then I said I couldn’t go on—not until we found another horse. I’m sure it is horrible of me, but the thought of taking one more step across those mountains … I’m too heavy to carry, you see. And then he called me round?” The men gasped in understanding. A single tear slipped down her cheek. “I just couldn’t do it.” She blinked up at him, pleased to see that he seemed to have forgotten all about Ewen. “I’m just so very …” She swayed dramatically, as if she might swoon. “Tired.”

  Barely was the word out of her mouth than the soldier had jumped down to take her arm and steady her. “Do not distress yourself, dear lady.” He shot a glare to the old farmer. “Why are you just standing there? Quick, get the lady something to drink.” He led her over to a stool that sat by the door. “Rest here; you should not stand for so long in your condition.” Janet smiled as she looked up into the soldier’s concerned gaze, knowing she had him.

  Ewen didn’t know whether to throttle her or stand and cheer. By the time they rode out of the village a few hours later, they not only had a horse but full bellies as well.

  Watching her had been something of a revelation. No actor upon the stage could have performed better. She spun her story with such ease and confidence, even he had started to believe it. He’d actually found himself telling the old man and his wife that the child would be named James if it was a laddie, after the man who’d taught him everything he knew. James Stewart had indeed taught him everything. Of course, the farmer didn’t realize that Ewen wasn’t talking about building, but about being a warrior and a chieftain.

  Aye, she’d done well, but he could never forget the heart-stopping moment when he’d first seen her. It had been a shock. Not just that she’d disobeyed him and put herself in danger, but also how she’d looked. She didn’t look anything like a nun or a lad. Dressed like a lady for the first time since he’d known her, he’d been riveted by the sheer feminine sensuality of her long golden hair tumbling over her shoulders in loose ringlets, and the sweetness of the curves revealed by her form-fitting gown. Her breasts were spectacular. The gown seemed to have been constructed to make a man think they were being presented just to him, like some kind of bounteous offering to the gods. Jesus, he’d wanted to toss his plaid around her shoulders and bury his head in them at the same time!

  Of course, one large curve had been rather a surprise. Pregnant. It felt like a boulder had slammed into his chest. It squeezed. Tightened. Burned with an emotion he’d never felt before. A kind of fierce possessiveness came over him that dwarfed anything that had come before.

  He wasn’t as skilled as Raider or Saint in hand-to-hand combat, but he would have taken on every one of those soldiers bare-handed to protect her. Hell, he would have taken them on bare-arsed naked, as his father had done with the wolves, to protect her.

  He’d been nearly out of his mind with anger—and probably jealousy, damn it—when she’d purposefully started to ploy the English captain with the feminine charms he hadn’t yet finished admiring.

  Only the realization that it was working had stayed his hand. But it had taken every ounce of self-restraint that he had (and some he did not have) not to go over there and smash his fist through the bastard’s appreciative gaze. The fact that the captain knew exactly how angry Ewen was only seemed to fit the part she’d cast for him as the harsh, overprotective, shor