Seducing the Laird (4 page)

Chapter 8

Verena awoke to the sounds of battle. She heard a loud crash as bodies slammed into each other and the clang of steel meeting steel. Owen was stationed outside protecting her from harm. Was he now fighting for her? Had someone found their hiding place?

Before she was fully conscious her hand went to the knife hidden beneath her pillow and she leapt to her feet.

"S’wounds!"
Came
an astonished cry.

Verena turned to the noise instinctively to gauge the threat. She blinked rapidly to clear her hazy mind. The sounds of battle were still there, but she was suddenly aware that she had made a colossal mistake.

"’Tis only a storm," said a bemused Cairn. "We are safe."

Mortified, she realized the explosions outside were not the ring of metal and gallop of horse’s hooves. Instead they were the cacophony of thunder and lightning of an early winter storm.

Glancing down at herself in mortification, she discovered the light from the dying fire clearly illuminated her shape through her worn chemise. She quickly dropped to her pallet, covering herself with a blanket.

"Thank you," she said shyly. She was not usually so modest—courtesy of growing up with Owen and Hadran, but that upbringing didn’t prepare her for the warmth of Cairn’s gaze burning through her underwear. When Cairn looked at her like that Verena felt as if she wore nothing at all. She decided she must still be disoriented from waking so suddenly.

"Who is Owen?" Cairn asked, breaking into her thoughts.

She wanted to kick herself. All of her preparation for this assignment, and perhaps her life, would be for naught if she accidentally said the wrong name in her sleep.

"Did I call his name?"

"Aye, before you woke up. Who is he?"

"Owen is my brother, but I have not seen him in many years."

"You didn’t mention other relatives."

Verena shrugged, using the motion to more fully cover herself with the blanket. A lie was quickly forming in her mind.

"’Twas not important," she replied. "He is much older and was sent to another of Gundy’s holdings as a soldier. I don’t know why I dreamt of him."

Cairn nodded, but Verena wasn’t sure her answer satisfied him.

"Where did you get the knife?"

"Owen gave it to me years ago."

That was the truth. Owen made several daggers identical to the one he always carried. It was a simple tool, designed for cutting meat or bread. It was also the key to carrying secret messages between Hadran’s agents. The handle of each knife was exactly the same width which meant innocuous scraps of parchment, fabric, or animal hides could be wrapped around them revealing vertical patterns of letters written on the material. It was one of many ways the spies communicated and guaranteed that only someone with possession of their knives and the knowledge to use them could read the notes.

"Did he also teach you how to use it?"

"Aye, before he left," she replied, looking him in the eye. There was nothing suspicious about an older brother teaching his younger, pretty sister how to use a knife, particularly if she worked in Lord Gundy’s castle. But were her motions too precise, too practiced or smooth?

"I would like to dress," she announced to halt his probing questions. "Could you please turn around?"

Cairn did so, albeit hesitantly. She could sense many more questions forming in his mind. Yesterday he seemed content to accept her aid, but as his recovery progressed Cairn became more inquisitive.

"How do you feel?"

"Much better.
I should be able to leave soon."

Much sooner than was wise if Lord Gundy had his way.
Verena couldn’t forget she was on a schedule. Her role was one small piece of Gundy’s much larger plan. It had only been a few days since Owen knocked Cairn from his horse and most of that time he spent in delirious fever. Cairn needed much more time to recover before he could safely travel, but she couldn’t wait. She needed him well and on the road now.

Using what Hadran taught her of herbs and medicine Verena used every poultice, draught, diet, and even astrology to help him. She fed him hearty, savory foods that he told her would balance Cairn’s four humours. All people, Hadran insisted, were susceptible to illness when the four bodily fluids of blood, yellow bile, black bile and phlegm were not in balance. Cairn had lost enough blood during his capture so she didn’t to bleed him again, but there were plenty of bitter draughts to calm the other fluids.

She glanced longingly at the door as she changed his bandages, wondering when the storm would abate. She hated being trapped indoors for long periods of time, especially when on an assignment.

"I know how you feel."

She realized he had followed her gaze to the door.

"I would also rather be outside."

She forced a smile; a little unnerved that Cairn had read her so easily.

"Do you miss Scotland?"

"A bit."
His features softened as he thought of his home. "In truth I spent most of my life in France where I fostered with my brother. I do miss the adventures of youth, exploring the peat bogs and throwing myself down hillsides covered in heather until my skin itched abominably. Scotland has an untamed beauty that is unlike any other land."

"It sounds lovely,"

"Aye, but it is also hard. I am lucky to be in the fertile lowlands, but our harvests are nothing like my brother’s in sun-kissed France."

The furious storm ended as suddenly as it began. Verena left the cottage on the pretext of relieving herself, but soon returned, brandishing a tree branch as if it would bite her.

"This is terrible!" she cried, handing the branch to Cairn. He took it and examined the sticky mixture glued to it.

"Lime," he said with a frown. "Where did you find this?"

"Not far away. It looks like it was placed there recently."

"Whoever left this could still be in the area."

Many hunters used sticky lime to coat tree branches and then covered them with seeds and other things to attract birds. When they landed on the branches, the lime stuck to their feet making it impossible for the birds to fly away. This discovery meant someone was hunting in this section of the woods, and Verena and Cairn were dangerously close to being discovered.

"I must leave."

"I know."

"Thank you for all you have done for me. I have no doubt that if not for you I would have died."

"My actions were not so heroic. You would also be hard pressed to leave a wounded stranger in the road, regardless of the circumstances."

"After what that bastard did to me, I am not certain."

Verena paused, allowing her eyes to widen slightly at his anger. She knew how difficult it must be for Cairn. Gundy’s betrayal and the loss of his traveling companions was the last in a long line of heartache. In his position she would have called Gundy much worse than a bastard, but the woman she was pretending to be was softer than that.

"I don’t like it when you speak so. It reminds me of
who
and what we are."

She turned away to leave the cottage and was not surprised to hear Cairn’s footsteps behind. She knew her words were provocative. Walking away at that moment was a tease. A man like Cairn couldn’t resist a reply.

"You are not my enemy," he said in a voice that washed over her like warm honey. "Not after what you have done for me. I am furious at Gundy, but that need not change what lies between us."

She could sense Cairn approaching from behind, but didn’t turn around. Every muscle was tense, anticipating his next move, wondering if he would finally dare to touch her. When he did she felt the shock of his fingertips where he lightly grasped her arms. Slowly he pulled her backward into his embrace. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her thick woolen sleeves and the heat radiating from his chest.

She turned in his arms to look questioningly into Cairn’s eyes, reading the confusion there. Hadran insisted a man in Cairn’s position would be desperate for comfort. He probably hadn’t had a woman in weeks, but Cairn was too intelligent to blindly accept his good fortune. She could see the battle being fought in his mind between caution and desire.

He hesitated. Was this happening too fast? He wanted her, but did his feelings go beyond mere lust? In the back of her mind she could hear Hadran’s instructions. She must not appear too eager for the laird’s embrace. Verena must behave with the proper meekness and fear expected of a woman in her position, but it was hard to think with the Scotsman’s amber eyes boring into hers.

It was too fast. A woman in her position wouldn’t throw herself at a stranger, no matter how handsome. The woman she was pretending to be would act more cautiously.

She allowed the lime-lined tree branch to fall through her fingers and crash noisily on the ground. They both froze and then she pulled away. She nervously smoothed her clothing as if that brief contact disheveled her. When she finally glanced up, Cairn was watching her with an inscrutable expression.

He wanted her, but Cairn showed a patient restraint that made her suddenly uncomfortable. She was used to gruff men like Owen, Lord Gundy and Hadran. They believed it was their right to take what they wanted. Verena knew how to handle them, but Cairn’s patience was not what she expected.

She forced herself to think of Owen’s earlier warning. Knights loved to play at chivalry, but she must never forget that all nobles were the same. Despite the tender warmth in his gaze Cairn was a selfish, spoiled lord, exactly like her employer.

"I shall take you to the northern road," Verena offered to break the tense silence. "I know of an old deer trail through the forest that will take you to the crossroads. Few know of it and fewer could find it if they did."

"That is too dangerous."

Too dangerous for her.
Something stirred at the thought of him trying to protect her. She shrugged off the feeling.

"I was born here and know this forest well," she replied with forced gaiety. "I have nothing to fear."

"Then you shall seek your grandfather?"

"Aye.
We should leave soon, while the weather is clear."

Chapter 9

The sky was oppressively gray as Verena and Cairn made their way through the forest. They knew this was only a brief respite from the storm and hoped it didn’t find them on the road. Cairn seemed subdued since they left the relative safety of the cottage, frequently scanning the trees as if he could sense Owen’s eyes upon them.

Making a show of examining their trail, she silently signaled into the trees and was happy to hear Owen’s immediate response in the form of a bird’s shrill cry.

"All is ready," he called to her. Gundy’s men were prepared. Owen would follow covertly behind in case she needed help. Verena signaled again with a scratch of her nose and tug on her woolen sleeve. She understood.

While she nursed Cairn to health Owen had marked a trail for them to follow, one that would keep them off the road until they reached the spot where Gundy’s men waited. The signs were known only to Hadran’s spies. The Scot’s untrained eye would think she was leading him from memory. She had only to find the next symbol. There it was, two identical rocks piled upon each other against a tree.

"I have not spent much time in these woods since my husband died," she lied as she deliberately passed the marker. Her backtracking would slow them down, but it would also confuse the Scot in case he noticed the real signs.

"What are you looking for?"

"An oak with a split trunk."

"Is that it?" Cairn asked
,
pointing in the direction they had come.

"I think so.
Aye."

Despite Cairn’s injuries they were making swift progress through the woods. He carried a stout branch as a walking stick, no doubt planning to use it as a club should the need arise. It must feel strange for a man like Cairn to be without a weapon. Verena would feel the same without her knives.

A twig snapped behind them and she suddenly found herself thrown against a tree with the Scot’s large hand pressed against her mouth.

"Shh!" he hissed. Verena doubted she could take a breath with his body so intimately pressed against hers. She recognized Cairn’s protective stance and the way he instinctively shielded her with his body. Hadran would definitely see that as a good sign.

He peered into the direction of the noise as if he could sense their pursuers closing in. She knew it was too soon for the second phase of Hadran’s plan and silently chided Owen for following too closely.

After what seemed like an eternity she felt Cairn’s body relax and he removed his hand from her mouth. His eyes met hers and she was suddenly aware of a different tension in his gaze. Their eyes communicated a physical awareness that she didn’t have to pretend. Every muscle in her body was tense, aware of the heat from Cairn’s body sinking into hers.

Cairn let his fingers gently stroke the side of her jaw. His thumb caressed the plumpness of her lower lip. The Scot’s frame, which had sought to protect her from harm, now became her prison, pressing her against the rough bark of the tree. As if pulled by a marionette’s string her head lifted and her eyes drifted shut.

It was shocking that she could be so bombarded with sensations with the touch of his lips. The massaging pressure was both soothing and tormenting. He caressed her lips with his and without thinking she opened for him.

Cairn groaned with the first gentle brush of her tongue so Verena boldly did it again. She no longer felt the hard bark of the tree against her back; instead she clung to Cairn. Her arms twined around his neck, her fingers tangled in Cairn’s silky hair. She forgot about Owen, Hadran and their supposed danger and found herself caught in a new kind of jeopardy. She stopped acting, stopped worrying about what others thought or how she should behave. Verena existed only for his kiss and the sweet sensations Cairn aroused.

Suddenly a bird’s angry call sounded, jerking her out of her sensual haze. She wrenched her head away and shuddered as Cairn continued a trail of kisses to the sensitive spot below her ear.

"We cannot do this!"

As her sanity returned she became aware of Cairn’s hand resting possessively on her bottom, his other dangerously close to her breast. If he flexed his fingers he would brush against those aching mounds.

Cairn paused, hearing the desperation in her voice. After a tense moment he let her go, but the warmth from his hands lingered like a brand.

"You are right. This is neither the time nor the place for such things."

She nervously studied the ground as if it held all the mysteries of the universe. She was angry with herself for so quickly forgetting their audience and mortified that it was Owen’s signal which brought her back. She glanced up at Cairn’s words and saw that he was steadily watching her. Did that mean he planned to continue the kiss later?

"I don’t like this," Cairn continued when she remained silent. "The forest is too quiet."

Not a single animal disturbed the stillness. The eerie silence made her skin crawl. She knew they were nearing the clearing where Gundy’s men waited and unconsciously her body tensed in expectation of the attack.

"Is something wrong?"

As he spoke, Cairn’s words seemed to release the forest from its silent spell. Verena heard the familiar twang of a bowstring before she was roughly pushed to the ground by Cairn as an arrow sailed over their heads.

"Rock!" he commanded as another arrow slammed into the tree above them. Without needing clarification she began crawling toward the shelter of a large boulder.

"What happened? Who are these men?" she panted when they were safely hidden behind the boulder. She could see the barely disguised rage boiling within Cairn. He was ready to fight, but unarmed and unarmored Cairn must realize his chances against the bowmen.

"Gundy’s men must have found me. I am sorry for this. I didn’t want to endanger you."

Despite their situation she couldn’t suppress a tiny smile. Cairn feared for her safety. The road to Scotland should be crawling with Gundy’s men and if the maid Verena pretended to be was captured with him, things would be very bad for her.

"Can you see them?"

"No. They are hidden behind some trees. I need to draw them out."

"I have an idea."

She knew exactly what to do; she had gone over the plan several times with Hadran and Owen.

"What are you doing?" asked Cairn as he watched her hike up her skirts to reveal the white underdress. She tore off a short strip from the bottom and tied it to a stick then waved the simple flag above her head.

"Don’t come out until the right moment."

"What?" he exclaimed, roughly grabbing her arm. "Don’t be daft."

"Unhand me," she hissed, incensed that he called Hadran’s plan daft. It was certainly ambitious and took a lot for granted, but the old man swore the plan would succeed and she trusted his judgment much more than the Scot’s. "Trust me."

Hesitantly Cairn released her arm, but the doubt in his eyes didn’t abate. She chose to ignore the cynic beside her.

"Please don’t shoot!" she yelled, letting a fearful edge creep into her voice.

"Are you unarmed?" called the archer.

"Aye!"

The knowledge that she was facing strangers from Langthorne was daunting. These men were loyal to Gundy, but Hadran’s troupe was loyal to each other first. Verena had no idea what to expect from these men.

"Come out slowly and let me see your hands."

As she rose she was once again stopped by Cairn’s heavy hand gripping her arm.

"Don’t!" he whispered urgently to her.

She wished she didn’t have to.

"It’s alright," she replied, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. "They will not harm me."

Sliding out of his grip Verena stood and turned to face their attackers.

"Where is the man?" the archer demanded.

"He is hurt. I think he is dying."

At those words two men stepped into the clearing. They were young soldiers, probably no more than nineteen years old. Unfortunately their faces showed no recognition of her. Hadran no doubt told the soldiers the Scot would be traveling along this path and mayhap that he was traveling with a woman, but he didn’t tell them the woman was working for Gundy. It was perhaps better that way in case the soldiers were captured by Cairn’s men; however it would place her in more danger. The soldiers didn’t see her as an ally and would feel no qualms about dispatching her should she cause trouble … as the plan dictated she must.

"Please don’t hurt me!" she exclaimed dramatically, taking a step backward and to the side. Her fearful words seemed to bolster the young men’s confidence and one of them took a threatening step toward her. His companion followed more slowly.

"What is a pretty maid like you doing with that barbarian?"

"Barbarian?
What do you mean?"

She continued to move backward, positioning the two men so their backs faced Cairn’s hiding spot.

"He is a murdering Scot," replied the first, gaining more confidence in his role. His lecherous gaze slowly roamed over her disheveled body. "But don’t worry, you are safe with us."

Her eyes widened comically at his words. Where did Gundy find such a youth? Only an idiot would completely disregard Cairn without visual confirmation of his demise. In addition to not knowing she was his ally, the man obviously didn’t know the true nature of this trap. If he suspected Cairn was not injured and merely lay in wait the young soldier would be more cautious.

•

"Did he hurt you?" asked the other man. He seemed to be the nicer and wiser of the two. Though he followed his friend, he glanced repeatedly at the boulder where Cairn hid. Verena had to do something to catch his attention. She nodded, pointing to an invisible bruise on her bosom.

"Let me see that," said the first.

She obligingly lowered the bodice of her gown a tantalizing half inch. Her ploy worked and the other man forgot all about Cairn. She wanted to roll her eyes. How could men allow themselves to be sidetracked so easily? With chagrin Verena remembered she had been no different a few moments ago when Cairn kissed her.

She attempted to step backward again and was suddenly grabbed by the foolhardy lad and roughly pulled against him. He ran his callused hand along her forearm and she theatrically shrank from his touch. The young man certainly had the brawn to make up for his lack of brains.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed loudly, pushing ineffectually against him. "Someone help me!"

"What’s wrong?" asked the first soldier. "You weren’t fighting the Scot."

On cue Cairn stepped from behind the boulder clutching his tree limb. Since the soldiers’ attention was focused on Verena they never saw the branch that connected to the second man’s skull with a loud and sickening crack.

Suddenly aware of the danger the first man roughly shoved her away and turned to face Cairn who unfortunately had been thrown off-balance by the force of his swing. Verena swore under her breath. She knew he wasn’t ready for battle after his ordeal in Langthorne. Nevertheless he recovered quickly, letting the force of the blow gracefully glide into another swing.

The first soldier unsheathed a long knife and she jumped on him. She hooked his ankle and tackled him to the ground. She used her all of her body weight to pin him, but was not heavy enough to hold him for long. He buckled to dislodge her as she tried to wrestle the knife from his grip.