The Master Of Strathburn (12 page)

It also meant that no one would confirm or deny that the factor’s daughter was Simon’s lover. Rob would still assume she was his mistress.

Unless I confess all to him.

It suddenly occurred to her that she and Rob were all alone. Now would be as good a time as any to tell him the truth.

Squaring her shoulders and with her chin resolutely raised, Jessie pushed open the bedroom door—and bit back an involuntary gasp. There, before the fireplace knelt Rob, naked from the waist up, sharpening his dirk on a whetstone. His linen shirt was tossed carelessly over the back of one of the oak chairs at the table. He looked up briefly, but he didn’t seem at all perturbed that she witnessed him in a shirtless state.

He nodded at the armchair nearby. ‘Why don’t you take a seat and warm yourself by the fire? It’s damnably cool this morning.’

Cool?
Jessie felt anything but cool. Her pulse skittering and her cheeks flaming, she reluctantly limped to the chair Rob had indicated and sat down. How was she to profess her true situation to him and seek to enlist his support when he flaunted himself thus? Yet again he threw her off balance and rendered her all but speechless.

He was facing her, his head bent forward. He’d tied his hair back with a strip of leather but a stray lock kept falling forward over his forehead. His naked torso was so close, if she leaned forward and reached out she would be able to touch him, trace the hard lines of sinew, muscle and bone. She fisted her hands into the wool of her borrowed plaid, determined to ignore the wanton impulse and instead tried to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of order.

But it was a hopeless enterprise. Never before had she seen a man in such a state of undress. She felt stunned and awed and awkward all at the same time. She determinedly tried not to look at Rob’s wide, powerful shoulders and the hard planes of his chest. She desperately tried to ignore the ripples down his lean stomach or the defined, well-developed muscles in his upper arms. She tried instead to focus on the flames jumping in the grate and how she was to broach the subject of Simon and her need to get to Edinburgh. Her cheeks still blazed, but not from the heat of the fire.

Rob stayed focused on his task of sharpening the dirk on the moist surface of the stone. Every now and again he tested the blade on his thumb before returning to the process of honing it to razor sharpness. Jessie cleared her throat to speak but halted, suddenly apprehensive about why he was taking such care in sharpening the knife—the same one that he’d used yesterday to cut her shift and sleeve away. Dear God, surely he wouldn’t use it to threaten her or worse …

She dragged in a breath and found her voice. ‘Wh-what are yer plans for the day, Mr Burnley? After you’ve finished sharpening yer dirk?’

* * *

Robert smiled to himself as he tested the blade of his knife again. Jessie was visibly nervous but he was not sure if it was due to his semi-clothed state or the task he was engaged in. Perhaps it was both. Either way, he was amused. Let the lass look her fill—he’d certainly had his turn to see her half-naked. It was only fair he returned the favour.

But he also didn’t want Jessie to be afraid of him. Surely she didn’t think he would physically harm her any further. Since the hunting accident, he’d done all he could to make amends for the damage he’d inflicted.

He lifted his gaze and whatever he had been about to say stuck in his throat. Even dressed in a haphazard array of garments, Jessie’s beauty stole his breath, struck him to the very bone. Her cheeks were flushed and her beautiful red-gold hair curled around her face like a bright halo. A memory of how she’d looked last night, in nothing but her wet shift, burst into his mind and his cock twitched. God, how he wanted her.

But he knew he couldn’t have her. Disappointment settled heavily in his chest.

Jessie was frowning, her whisky-brown eyes wary as she waited for him to answer.

Guilt—for his less than chivalrous conduct and wholly lustful thoughts—suddenly writhed in his gut. He really should put the lass at ease. ‘Any plans I have are not untoward, I assure you,’ he replied, failing to hide the huskiness in his voice, but he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘As for my dirk, I’m just making sure the blade is razor sharp so I don’t cut myself when I dispose of this.’ He ran a thumb across the dark stubble on his jaw. ‘Just because we’re out in the wilderness, it doesn’t mean that I should go around looking like a savage.’

‘I see,’ she responded and then he noted a sudden spark of spirit lighting her eyes as she delivered her next comment. ‘And might I suggest an addition of a shirt might assist in yer transformation as well.’

He chuckled at that and noticed that the tension in her posture eased slightly. A moment later, he heard her stomach grumble loudly. ‘There’s an apple left over if you’d like to break your fast.’ He nodded toward the dining table where it sat between the candles. ‘Tobias has ridden out to forage for more food. He shouldn’t be too long.’

* * *

Jessie rose and seated herself at the table, doubtful that food was all Tobias was gathering. However she was relieved to be farther away from Rob. He disconcerted her dreadfully and she badly needed to think.

As she bit into the apple, she contemplated again how to raise the topic of her situation. She needed to convince Rob to trust her. If she could succeed in this, perhaps she could negotiate with him to stay here until she could catch the next day’s public coach to Edinburgh as she’d originally planned. She was in no hurry to get to Grantown-on-Spey just yet.

But she would not begin the conversation she needed to have until the man was decently dressed. She needed her wits about her.

Despite her resolve not to look at Rob, her eyes kept straying toward the fireplace where he was now shaving. He’d propped a small looking-glass on the stone mantelpiece and had lathered his jaw with soap—the small cake now sat beside a basin of soapy water on the hearthstone. She watched in fascination as Rob held the skin of his face taut and ran the razor sharp blade over it, to reveal smooth tanned skin underneath. With his hair pulled back as it was, she could clearly see the defined muscles in his corded arms and back as he moved.

He’d told her he used to be in the Watch. Indeed, he had a warrior’s body—aside from his powerful musculature, there were obvious marks of old, healed battle wounds on his skin. Her gaze traced along the ridge of a particularly nasty looking scar—a long slash that ran across his left shoulder blade down to his rib cage—and she wondered how he had sustained it. It must have been excruciatingly painful. Her bullet wound was nothing compared to that.

Look away, Jessie Munroe. Now.
But it seemed her eyes wouldn’t obey. Her gaze strayed lower to Rob’s narrow hips and she couldn’t help but notice how his buckskin breeches hugged the firm curves of his buttocks and muscular thighs. She bit down hard into the apple to stifle a purely wanton and unladylike groan. Heavens above, Rob was too … too beautiful, too powerful and utterly mesmerising. The strange warmth she’d felt in her lower abdomen yesterday began to pulse again and she felt slick between her thighs.

Flustered, and feeling more than a trifle guilty for ogling Rob, she was about to look away when she noticed the reflection of his eyes in the mirror staring back at her with an expression of wry amusement. He was laughing at her!

Anger and embarrassment sparked within her and with a muttered curse, she deliberately shifted her position in the chair so her back was to him. How dare he parade himself in front of her like a … a peacock and not expect her to gawp at him. It was audacious to say the least. She would not look at him again until he was fully clothed.

However, she’d forgotten that he’d tossed his shirt over the back of the chair opposite her. When he finished shaving, he walked over to stand in front of her so she couldn’t help but notice him. She concentrated on nibbling the last remnants of flesh from her apple core. He’d pushed the dirk into a scabbard secured to the waistband of his breeches. Even though her gaze was directed downwards, she could see the handle jutting up near the outline of his lean hipbone.
Oh God, don’t look at his hips or lower, Jessie Munroe.

‘How’s the apple?’ he asked, in a thoroughly amused tone.

She lifted her gaze to give him what she hoped was a withering look but instead her eyebrows shot up as utter amazement overwhelmed her. ‘Oh, my Lord,’ she gasped, dropping the apple core. It rolled off the table and onto the floor unheeded.

Rob looked at her, his eyes narrowed, clearly puzzled.

Jessie stood up so abruptly, her chair tipped over with a crash. ‘You’re Robert Grant.’

The truth slammed into her, stealing her breath. How had she been so blind? It was the same man that she’d seen in the miniature portrait belonging to Lord Strathburn. The man before her was obviously older than the young man in the painting; the lines of Rob’s face were now leaner, more defined, harder somehow. But she could plainly see that they both shared the same striking features, now that the beginnings of Rob’s beard were gone. She recognised the same clean strong jaw, the wide mouth, the dark hair pulled back and the startling blue eyes.

Other pieces of information came back to her that fitted her construct. This man obviously used to be a soldier, he seemed thoroughly familiar with this countryside and the lodge, knew Simon’s character through and through. How had she not realised it before?

‘You’ve come back,’ she added uselessly, and took a step away from the table, almost tripping over the upended chair.

Rob, or Robert, inclined his head, a sardonic twist to the corner of his mouth. ‘So it would seem.’

‘But … It all makes sense now, about you and Simon. Oh God, Simon … he … when you an’ Tobias were speaking last night … when you were at the loch … Simon and I … It’s no’ what you think …’ She was babbling, backing away from him as best she could. There was a hard set to Robert’s mouth as he followed her around the table. She bumped into the wall behind her. Fear gripped her heart. What would he do now that she’d recognised him—now she definitely knew too much?

Robert towered over her, his eyes suddenly hard and assessing. A muscle worked in his cheek. ‘So tell me, Jessie Munroe, how are things really between you and my half-brother? How am I supposed to trust you?’ He leaned forward and rested a muscled forearm against the wall beside her head, his eyes boring into hers. ‘He’s your lover, is he not?’

She swallowed, barely able to breathe. Robert’s bare chest was a breath away from her—her lips were just above his collarbone. Now was the time to tell him the truth … but she was too ashamed. And she feared he wouldn’t believe her.

Hot tears flooded her eyes and threatened to spill. Robert was so close, she could feel the handle of the dirk pushing into her abdomen. Feel the heat radiating from his body. She recalled his words last night. They echoed in her head.

She was a threat, a problem, a complication.

I’m in danger.

‘Well, Jessie?’ Robert gripped her jaw, forcing her chin up. His gaze searched hers for a moment, then dropped to her mouth. Panic flared. Stole her breath. His mouth hovered over hers.

Oh God, he was going to kiss her. And the kiss would not be kind.

No. Not like this.

‘Simon and I are hand-fasted. So I’d suggest you leave me be, Robert Grant,’ she breathed against his lips.

Robert froze. His eyes darkened to the blue-black of storm clouds and he abruptly released his bruising hold on her jaw. Then without a word, he turned on his heel, grabbed his shirt off the chair and marched outside. Through the wide open door, she saw him stride over to the burn and drop to his knees before sluicing water over his face.

Jessie sank to the ground too, her whole body shaking. There was no way to tell if her mad bluff would make things safer for her. She simply prayed that if she was seen as important to Simon, someone of consequence, surely Robert would not harm her. He would assume that Simon would be searching for her sometime today. He would have to move on, or risk capture. But would he let her go?

Dear Lord, what had she done? Why had she jumped straight from the frying pan into the fire? She felt tarnished, tainted, as if she’d sold her soul to the very devil himself. And Robert probably thought that about her too. Oh, she was a foolish henwit indeed.

* * *

The icy cold water of the burn shocked Robert into a semblance of calmness. Damn it to hell. Things were worse than they seemed.

Jessie’s admission about her betrothal to Simon hurt as acutely as any bayonet slice. But there was no time to dwell on his feelings right now. There was no doubt about it. Simon would be looking for this woman. The question was, how much time did he have before Simon ventured out on his search with or without the Black Watch or even the dragoons?

Either way, Jessie would be coming with him, wherever he moved onto next. He couldn’t afford to leave her here. She would give away his presence in the area. For now, his only advantage was that no one except Jessie knew of his return to Scotland.

He stood and threw on his shirt. Robert judged that they may still have a little time between now and when any search was conducted up here. It was early and it would take some time for any sizeable search party to negotiate the steep terrain and narrow mountain pass that was the only way into this isolated glen. Tobias was in fact scouting the area right now for any signs of activity.

The time to question Jessie Munroe further had definitely come. He needed to know exactly who she was and why she had been up here alone in the first place. And if she was betrothed to Simon, why hadn’t she mentioned it yesterday when she had claimed an acquaintance with his father and stepmother? Something about her story didn’t make sense. Yes, it was definitely time for Miss Munroe to stop playing games and reveal the truth.

* * *

The sound of approaching hooves roused Jessie from where she sat on the floor. Even though her knees still shook, she managed to stand. Through the open door, she could see Tobias astride his horse, talking with Robert. Tobias glanced toward her as the two men spoke, then quickly looked away. He nodded at something Robert said before dismounting and leading his horse away.