Temptation in a Kilt (8 page)

When Ciaran extended his arm to Montgomery and pulled him up, Montgomery rubbed his jaw and smirked. “Ye had way too much pleasure in that task, MacGregor.”

He shrugged dismissively. “Aye. One for me and one for Calum.”

“Fair enough.”

“I donna understand,” said Rosalia, looking back and forth between the men.

Montgomery gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek. “MacGregor will explain. I will return.”

“He has a plan. We will tie him and his men with the rest of Dunnehl’s men and take our leave. When they awaken, he will spin a tale and send them on the wrong course. They will think he didnae have a part in this.”

“’Tis why ye hit him?” she asked searchingly.

A deep chuckle answered her. “I cannae say I didnae have pleasure in the task, but aye. Come,” Ciaran said, gesturing her toward the horses. “We must prepare to take our leave. Once we reach Glenorchy, ye will be safe.”

***

Gathering her blankets, Rosalia fastened them to Noonie. She’d never meant for any of this to occur. By running from Liddesdale, she had now involved James in this madness. She had to leave, but she’d thought she would be taking chances on her own. It was not her intention to involve James or Ciaran. These were two honorable men in her life and she had placed them directly in harm’s way. Placing her arm on Noonie, Rosalia felt his warmth and used it for subtle encouragement.

Ciaran placed his hand at her back. “’Tis time, Rosalia.” He led her over to where Seumas was getting prepared to tie James. She searched her friend’s battered features and could not stay the guilt that plagued her. This was entirely her fault. Seeing his injured jaw made something gnaw at her gut. Perhaps she should have stayed at Mangerton and accepted her fate instead of trying to create a new one. She looked down at her hands. “I appreciate what everyone has done, but I cannae do this. I cannae have ye placing yourself in danger for me.”

Turning to Ciaran, she reached out and held both of his hands. It did not help when he gave her a warm smile. She briefly closed her eyes to gain courage. “Ciaran, I cannae travel with ye to Glenorchy. I donna know what trouble follows, and I willnae put anyone else in further danger because of me.
Mòran taing
for everything ye have done.”

“Rosal—”

She whipped around to James and stood tall. “I will return with ye and your men and accept my fate. I was wrong to run.” She clenched her jaw to kill the sob in her throat.

Ciaran stepped to her side and James shook his head slightly. “Look at me. ’Tis nay request, Rosalia. How many times did we stand upon the parapet and converse upon your future? Ye willnae return with me to Liddesdale. Ye are worth so much more, lass. Ye insult my honor and the MacGregor’s. I
demand
ye take your leave with him now. I have his word he will see ye safe to Glengarry. Start a new life for yourself and be well. ’Tis all I ever wanted for ye. Nay sister of mine will tell me she isnae worth the trouble.” He nodded to Ciaran. “MacGregor…”

His hand came down on her shoulder. “Ye either say farewell or we take our leave now. ’Tis nay more time. We must make haste.” His voice rang with command.

She lifted her hands to James’s face. “
Tha
mi
duilich! Tha gaol agam ort!
” she cried.
I
am
sorry! I love you!

He did not embrace her but gave a curt nod to Ciaran and turned his back on all of them. Seumas tied him, ensuring his bindings were secure. As soon as Seumas finished binding James’s ankles, Ciaran nodded his head for them to take their leave.

“Ye have my word, Montgomery. No harm will come to her, and I will take her to Glengarry,” said Ciaran. His tone was almost apologetic.

“I will lead them astray. Make haste. It looks as though rain will be upon us and will help to cover your tracks.”

“Aye.” Ciaran turned abruptly, leading her over to Noonie. “Mount up, Rosalia. We ride.”

She mounted Noonie and refused to look back. She would not remember James this way. They would travel quickly and all arrive at Glenorchy safely. Anything less was unacceptable.

The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon and the land in front of her was changing. It was becoming rockier and much more mountainous as they continued their journey north. “Are we in the Highlands?” she yelled to the men ahead of her.

Ciaran slowed his mount and let Calum and Seumas pass, waiting for Rosalia. “Aye. We need to slow the horses through this pass. They will need to be sure-footed along the trails. Let Noonie find his own way. Donna guide him.”

“Aye. Noonie will take care,” she said, patting him on the neck.

“How do ye fare?” he asked with concern, letting Noonie pass in front of his mount.

“I am well.” They had bigger issues to think of than the pain in her ribs and face. Her injuries were nothing in comparison.

There was a heavy silence.

“Rosalia, donna concern yourself overmuch with Montgomery. He has a good plan and knows how to take care. All will be well,” Ciaran said reassuringly.

“Aye,” she replied lightly, waving him off.

“I know he wouldnae want ye worried over him. He spoke as much to ye.”

James may have spoken the words, but it was not that simple. If it were ever discovered that he had aided her escape… she closed her eyes at the thought. Ciaran was right about his plan, but knowing that did not make her feel any better. These men had placed themselves in danger because of her.

When Rosalia did not respond, Ciaran added, “He will lead Dunnehl’s men on a chase, and they willnae suspect him. Montgomery appears to be wise in battle. He willnae let anything untoward happen and appears to be a man of his word.”

“And when did ye decide that, my laird? Before or after ye hit him?” she asked.

“I…”

Ciaran was obviously struggling for something to say when she turned and smiled at him over her shoulder.

“I suppose it was after I hit him. He does seem to care for ye as a brother,” he said sheepishly.

“Donna ye mean to say what I already stated to ye, my laird?”

He shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling ’tis only the beginning of many of these kinds of conversations I am going to have with ye?”

“A wise man would already admit defeat.” She chuckled as she felt the first drop of rain brush her face.

Ciaran must have felt it too because he spoke straight away. “Rosalia, we will have to ride in the rain. ’Tis too soon to stop and we must make haste. The rain will also help cover our tracks. We donna have a choice. If we make Glenorchy on this day, we will have a warm bath and a warm meal.”

“It sounds delightful. Lead on, my laird.” As they headed up the rocky pass, she made the mistake of glancing down. If Noonie faltered, it would surely be their death. Looking ahead at Calum and Seumas, Rosalia noticed that the steep drop did not appear to bother them. She wanted to speak to Calum to see how he fared, but she was afraid to speak in case the horses would startle.

As if Ciaran read her mind, he spoke soothingly. “Ye are doing fine.”

“’Tis verra steep. Has anyone ever taken a tumble?” she asked, gesturing below.

“We are almost through the pass. Ye are doing fine.”

The skies blackened and pellets of rain stung Rosalia’s face. She attempted to look ahead of them, but the heavy rains lashed her bruises. She rode with her head down against the wind and rain. When a rumble of thunder echoed through the pass, she had to trust that Noonie could see in front of him. They continued to ride at a slow pace that seemed like an eternity. Rosalia was cold and drenched, and her clothes felt heavy as they weighed on her body. A warm bath and a warm meal sounded delightful. That idea gave her the encouragement she needed to keep moving. These men were risking their lives for her—complaining was not an option.

Lightning struck and Noonie shied, losing his footing. “
Sèimhich
, Noonie.” She spoke in a soothing tone, patting his neck.

Ciaran let out a whistle for his men to stop. “We cannae ride in this. Make haste to the crofter’s hut in the glen and we will make camp,” he yelled through the relentless rain.

“Aye,” answered Seumas and Calum as a bolt of lightning lit the sky, followed by a loud crack.

As they carefully treaded down the mountain, Rosalia clung to Noonie’s mane as if it were a lifeline. Maybe it was. At the angle they were riding, she felt as though she could fall over his neck. If she actually had her choice, she would rather meet her maker by a bolt of lightning than chance plummeting to her death and breaking her neck.

“Rosalia,” Ciaran shouted. “Lean back in the saddle and place your feet more forward. It will help Noonie for balance, and ye willnae feel as though ye will fall.”

She did as he instructed. These types of issues never arose in Liddesdale. There were no steep mountain passes in which she chanced falling to her death. There was only the occasional hill to travel to the village. What was she thinking? She always said she wanted to travel and see the Highlands—well, she’d certainly gotten her wish. Next time, she would be careful what she wished for.

When they finally reached the crofter’s hut, Seumas dismounted and took Noonie’s reins. This was one time she did not argue. She ran through the door, panting, as water dripped from her. The hut was small and would barely accommodate all of them, but it was dry and would suffice. There was a dirt floor and a small place to light a fire. A worn tankard sat in the corner beside a small pile of wood, which from the looks of it had not been used in some time. Not the comforts of home, but at least they were out of the storm.

The men strode through the door, shaking off the rain. Seumas handed Rosalia her bundle from Noonie.

“My thanks.”

Seumas nodded. “Aye. Hopefully something is dry.”

She pulled out a couple of blankets from her sack, one damp and the other thankfully dry. Seumas gathered a couple of dry branches that had been left in the corner and started a fire, throwing curses when it did not light as swiftly as he would have liked.

Ciaran pulled out some dry clothes and gave her a smile. “Ye may want to turn your back. We will change clothes.”

She was sure her face turned many shades of red and she promptly turned her back. While the men changed their clothes, Rosalia pulled the worn day dress from her sack. She did not have a chemise, but at least the dress would be dry.

A warm voice spoke from behind her. “We will turn our backs. Go ahead and change your wet clothes,” murmured Ciaran.

She twisted around to make sure they did not peek. She removed her tunic and trews, the fire warming her bare skin. Rosalia attempted to pull on the day dress, finding it difficult since her hair and body were still damp. What the hell was wrong with it? It clung to her and did not want to budge. Besides, she could not pull it fully over her head due to the soreness in her arms. The dress was the one piece of clothing that was dry. She would make this work. She had no choice in a hut full of men.

As she grunted and maneuvered to don the dress, Ciaran spoke. “Do ye need assistance?”

God’s teeth!
It was stuck on her shoulders. “Donna turn around!” she spoke hastily.

“I didnae, but ye sound as if ye need help. Are ye sore?”

Rosalia tried to reposition the dress. “Aye. Howbeit I will manage. Please donna turn around,” she pleaded.

As a last resort, she gave the dress a firm tug, hearing the fabric tear at the same time. The dress covered her, but it was way too tight for her frame. What was she going to do? Her mother said Rosalia ate as much as her father’s men. She should have listened. Not only did the dress not fit, but now she could not lift her arms to remove it because it was far too tight. Never had she been so humiliated. She was not even sure how she’d managed to pull it on as far as she had.

Her blood pounded and her face grew hot with humiliation. Searching her bag for something else to wear, she found that everything was soaked. She closed her eyes and sighed. This was truly a nightmare. Rosalia again attempted to lift her arms but the dress continued to cling to her frame as a second skin, not moving an inch for her to maneuver it. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed assistance.

Her embarrassment quickly turned to annoyance. “Umm… Ciaran?” she whispered. The thought of speaking to him about this almost made her cry.

“Can I turn around?”

“Nay!” She reached out and pulled Ciaran two steps back away from his men. She stole a glance at them as they tried to look occupied with their backs still turned. She yanked on his tunic and he lowered his head toward her. She whispered her dilemma.

“What?” he asked, not even attempting to lower his voice.

She swatted at him. “Shh…” Thankfully, Seumas started talking to Calum. “I put on the day dress from the maid at the village and it doesnae fit. I cannae remove it and I need your assistance,” she repeated, mortified.

Ciaran paused for a moment. “Do ye have something dry to put on?” he murmured.

“Well… nay. I will just wear what I had on,” she spoke quietly.

“And ye will catch the ague,” he said with cool authority. Grabbing his sack, he rifled through it and pulled out a tunic. Seumas looked at him, and she could swear he smiled. Why did men have to be such beasts? Stepping backward, Ciaran reached behind his back and handed the tunic to her. “’Tis at least dry,” he whispered.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Do ye still need me to assist ye to remove your clothing?” He spoke in an odd, yet gentle tone.

“Aye,” she sighed. Her humiliation could not be alleviated.

“I will have to turn around,” he whispered.

“I know. I will give ye my back.” Mercifully, he could not see the crimson in her face.

***

Shaking his head, Ciaran could not believe he was having this conversation. Rosalia actually needed his help to remove her clothing. This was definitely a first. He turned around and saw that the tight dress clung to her body like a wet cloth. No wonder she could not remove it.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “Lift your arms,” he instructed. She lifted her arms as high as she could, and he reached down and grabbed the bottom of her dress. As he hefted the dress up and over her buttocks, his trews became uncomfortably tight. Rosalia’s white, creamy flesh was bared before his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to explore her soft curves and mold them to his hard body.