Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (19 page)

It seemed a sound plan, so with a nod she went to pick and choose a few necessities
from her luggage. Once he was finished with the horse, Daniel did the same, combining
their items into a single valise for easy transport.

“Can you ride without a saddle?” he asked.

Her shoulders drew back with automatic pride. “Of course. I am considered quite an
accomplished horsewoman.”

Although, truth be known, she’d never ridden bareback in her life. But if she could
acquit herself well in a sidesaddle wearing
a heavy velvet riding habit, surely she could manage this. And, of course, Daniel
would be there to keep her from losing her balance.

She expected him to lift her sideways onto the horse as he had done when they’d ridden
together before. Instead, he bent and cupped his hands to help her mount on her own.
It was only then that she realized he meant for her to sit astride.

She felt her eyes widen at the shocking idea. Then again, so many things she did lately
could be categorized as shocking.

“Are we not riding together?” she ventured, hoping she might be mistaken in her assumption.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to overtax the horse with our combined weight.”

She hesitated. “But my dress…it’s not at all suitable…for riding.”

“It’s suitable enough. If you’re worried about showing a bit of ankle, doona be. There’s
no one around to see.”

There’s you!
she silently retorted.

On the other hand, considering the fact that he’d seen her half naked this morning—and
touched and kissed a great deal more of her besides—she supposed it was silly to worry
about exposing a few inches of stocking-clad legs.

Bending low again, he held out his joined palms.

Forgive me my trespasses,
she thought with a quick glance skyward. Then she raised her skirts and placed her
foot in his hands.

He had her up and astride the horse before she quite knew what had happened. Instinctively,
she pressed her knees into the horse’s sides and twined her fingers in the animal’s
thick mane.

But she needn’t have worried about tumbling off, since Daniel had a hand on her hip
to hold her steady while she found her balance. She glanced at him and wondered if
he was even aware of the intimate gesture.

Without seeking her permission, he tugged the hem of her
dress down over her knee and calf as far as it would go, then moved around the horse
to do the same with the other side.

He straightened, one palm resting on the back of her calf. “Ready?”

Her pulse skittered wildly.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Daniel was so tall that even seated on the horse, she wasn’t all that far above him.
His eyes were very green as they met hers, his mouth close enough that all she would
have needed to do was lean down a few inches to bridge the distance and kiss him.

Suddenly the light in his eyes dulled and he released her and stepped away.

She swayed at his abrupt departure, and tightened her fingers in the horse’s coarse
mane to keep from tumbling ignominiously to the ground.

He walked back to the curricle, returning soon with the lightly packed valise in hand.
“Can you balance this in front of you?”

“Of course,” she said with all the bearing and dignity of her birth.

He tucked the small leather case under her arms, then took up the reins and led the
horse forward.

An hour passed, then a second one, as they traveled up one hillside and down another,
all the while searching for signs of human habitation.

They were still looking as the sun reached its peak on the horizon, the sky turning
a burnished gold that made the heather shimmer in soft shades of reddish violet and
the grass and trees turn a muted, brackish green.

“Sunset isn’t long off,” he observed, breaking the long silence between them. “We
need to stop and find a place to shelter overnight.”

She surveyed the untamed landscape that stretched around them in all directions, her
forehead drawing tight. “Stop? Stop where? There is nothing here.”

He raised a brow and waited, clearly expecting her to make some leap in logic.

When she did, her mouth opened on a sharp inhalation. “You don’t mean
here
, do you? Right here? You expect us to sleep
outside
?”

She said the word
outside
the way she might have said the word
outhouse
, since she had no interest in spending the night in either place.

The edges of his mouth turned up. “I doona see that we have much choice. As you so
sagely pointed out, there aren’t any buildings in the vicinity, no farms or cottages
and certainly not a nice cozy inn. We’ll just have to make the best of what we have.”

“Which is precisely nothing,” she retorted, unease making her voice sharp.

He sent her a reassuring look, as if fully aware of her rising anxiety. “Doona worry,
Your Highness. This won’t be the first time I’ve had to forage off the land. We’ll
stay warm and dry tonight.”

Warm and dry?
She hadn’t even considered the possibility that it might rain. She studied the sky
with sudden suspicion, but saw nothing to indicate an approaching storm. Then again,
considering all the ill luck she’d been having of late, who knew what might happen
between now and morning?

As for spending the night out of doors, perhaps Daniel had lived off the land before,
but she could not say the same. The closest she’d ever come to sleeping out in nature
had been the week she’d stayed at one of her father’s hunting lodges when she was
a child. Considering that the lodge had been larger than many fine English homes and
had been equipped with comfortable beds and a full complement of servants, it counted
as rustic in only the loosest sense of the word.

She cast about again. “What about wild animals?”

“They won’t bother us. The only predators we need to fear walk on two legs.”

A shudder went through her as she remembered crashing
through the woods, breath burning in her lungs as she fled for her life. He was right—it
was human beings they had the most cause to fear.

“As I said, doona worry,” Daniel reassured her. “I’m armed and I’ll make sure we make
camp in a place that’s well protected.”

And where might that be? she wondered as she studied their surroundings.

But just as she’d put her faith in Daniel so many other times before, she quickly
realized she could trust him in this as well. After calling softly to the horse, he
led them toward the convergence of two hills that formed a small valley of sorts.

Along an area to the north were a few trees and an outcropping of rock that wasn’t
exactly a cave but that would shield them from the elements if necessary and give
them time to react to any approaching danger. There was even a small stream that burbled
not too many yards distant that would provide them with potable water and a place
to wash.

Some might say providence was smiling on them; Mercedes was still withholding judgment
on that score.

They came to a halt and Daniel reached up to help her down from the horse. She slid
forward and gave a little jump that sent her stumbling against him. He caught her,
his hands clasped tightly around her upper arms.

For the space of four hurried beats of her heart, their eyes met and held.

Abruptly he let her go.

“Why don’t you gather some firewood?” he stated. “I’ll see to the horse, then arrange
something for us to sleep on.”

Turning his back, he led the animal toward the stream and a small patch of nearby
vegetation.

So she was to gather firewood, was she? She’d never even laid kindling in a fireplace
grate, so this would be yet another novel experience. Still, how hard could it be
to pick up sticks? Even she ought to be able to manage the job.

Lifting the hem of her dress, she walked forward. She’d
gone only a couple of yards when she stopped, her gown snagged on a rough clump of
some prickly plant.

With a heavy sigh, she bent to set herself free.

Daniel watched her from where he stood by the stream, the horse busy taking a much-needed,
and well-deserved, drink.

He’d never seen a woman mince, but she did as she took dainty steps through underbrush
in search of wood for the fire.

He’d thought that asking her to gather firewood would be a simple enough task, but
the way she did it made the job seem Herculean, and as foreign to her as if she’d
never done anything remotely like it in all her days.

Just then, she leaned over and picked up a slender length of wood. Rather than lay
it in the crook of her elbow as any normal person would have done, she held it out
at arm’s length and gave it a long, vigorous shake.

What on earth was she doing? Was she shaking off insects?

The idea nearly made him laugh.

Done, she inspected the branch, then, apparently satisfied with her efforts, laid
it over one arm. To his mingled amusement and exasperation, she began the process
again.

At this rate it would take her only three or four more hours to gather enough useful
wood to see them through the night. Had he not known how preposterous her story was,
he might actually have believed her to be a princess. In that moment, she looked dainty
and amazingly helpless and undeniably lovely—exactly what a princess should be.

The horse raised his head and dripped water on Daniel’s boot, reminding him that he
needed to quit staring at Mercedes and get their camp set up.

The animal, having drunk his fill, leaned low again and began cropping bits of grass
along the bank. Daniel coaxed him a couple of yards away to another likely patch of
grass and secured the reins so he wouldn’t wander away.

Reaching into his wool stocking, Daniel withdrew his
sgian-dubh
and set off toward the trees. The dagger was small, but he knew it would be sharp
enough to cut down a few branches that would make for a reasonably soft mattress.
After all, a delicate princess like Mercedes shouldn’t have to sleep on the hard-packed
earth.

And he didn’t much relish the idea either.

“I’m afraid ’tis the best we have,” Daniel told her over an hour later as she sat
next to him in front of the campfire.

She eyed the dried biscuit he’d passed her with a dubious expression.

A ship’s biscuit, he’d called it.

She tapped it experimentally with a fingernail. It looked hard enough to pound nails
and twice as unappetizing. Given their present circumstances, she supposed she ought
to be grateful he had any food at all; if one could categorize this as food.

“We’ll have to share the mug,” he continued as he lifted a small pan off the fire
with an equally small pair of tongs. He let it cool for a moment, then poured part
of the contents into a tin mug before setting the pan back near the fire.

“Ladies first.” He held out the mug, indicating that she take hold of the handle.
“Dunk the biscuit in the tea first. Makes it easier to eat.”

After a slight hesitation, she did as he instructed.

“Gah!” she cried, pulling the biscuit out of her mouth. “That’s awful. I can’t even
bite into it.”

“They doona call ’em molar breakers for nothing,” he quipped. Taking the cup from
her hand, he dunked his own biscuit and put it to his lips. His strong jaw flexed
visibly as he snapped off a small chunk and began to chew.

“I believe I’ll just have the tea,” she said in a faint voice.

He swallowed. “You’ll be awfully hungry come morning if you doona eat tonight.”

Balancing his biscuit on one knee, he opened the valise and rummaged through. “Here.
I was saving this for breakfast, but you can have it now.” He untied the ends of a
handkerchief
to reveal the most wonderful surprise she could have imagined.

“Cheese!” she exclaimed, eyeing the deep yellow wedge with a burst of elation. “Oh,
how marvelous. I could kiss you.”

His rich green eyes flashed in the firelight. “I’ll keep that in mind for later. For
now, eat your supper, lass.”

Heat rose in her face; blast her weakness for blushing. She was sure he could see
her pink cheeks even in the low light. But at the moment she didn’t care; she was
just too hungry.

Sending him a grateful smile, she accepted the cheese, which turned out to be a fine
aged cheddar.

“You don’t happen to have a loaf of bread in there by chance?” she teased, nodding
toward the valise that had so far disgorged a tin warming pan and cup, a small box
of tea, another of the dubious ship’s biscuits, the cheese, and two blankets that
he’d taken from the boot of the curricle and which now lined their makeshift bed.

“If I had bread, do you think I’d be eating this?” He retrieved the ship’s biscuit
from his knee and dipped it into the tea again. With a resilient determination, he
bit off another piece and began to chew.

She broke off a square of the cheddar and popped it in her mouth, savoring its smooth,
almost nutty flavor.

Meanwhile, he continued to gnaw valiantly on his miserable biscuit.

“Here,” she told him after a minute. “You should take half.” She held out the cheese.

He shook his head. “Nae, you enjoy it. I’m fine with a couple biscuits.”

“But they’re dreadful.”

“I’ve had worse—believe me. And good or not, they’re filling.” He tossed back the
tea, then reached to refill the cup.

Silently, he passed it to her.

She drank half, pleasantly warmed through, then handed him the rest.

He dipped his biscuit in again and ate.

She had another square of cheese, deciding that if he wouldn’t eat half, she would
save it for morning and insist he eat it then.

“How do you come to have all of these supplies with you?” she asked. “Were you expecting
trouble?”

“Nae, but after a decade spent at war, I’ve learned that trouble has a way of finding
a man, no matter how hard he tries to avoid it. I ne’er travel without packing a kit—a
bit of food and tea, a flint to start a fire, and a couple of weapons, of course.”