“Aye, my lord.” Edward paused, shifted. “He called me a toady, my lord.”
“Yes, well, you are a toady, Edward. It is your job to be obsequious and obedient to my commands, is it not?” Edward looked confused, but nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
“You may go.”
Sheff sank into his favorite chair in front of the fireplace, let the rage come. Beneath it lay an emotion he loathed, one he refused to name or acknowledge. How could Jamie say such things? How could Jamie threaten him over a woman? How could Jamie treat him with such disdain and cast aside his friendship with such finality? A swell of anguish rose up from inside him, strong enough to eclipse the pain in his limbs. Damn Jamie Blakewell! And damn the Irish bitch who had ruined him!
Sheff tossed back the rest of his cognac, hurled the crystal snifter into the fireplace, the shatter of glass giving expression to his tangled emotions. Before he had been torn between amusement and irritation. But he was no longer amused.
Jamie had crossed the line. There could be no forgiveness now.
Sheff rose, strode to the sideboard, poured himself another drink, began to pace the room.
“You tell your master I know he’s hunting for her. But if he harms her or any of her family, I’ll hunt him with a knife in my teeth, and I won’t fail.”
Sheff mulled over Jamie’s message to him. Her family. Why should Jamie give a damn about her family? He’d never even met them.
Or had he?
An impossible idea occurred to Sheff. Had Jamie been colluding with the Irish against him? Had Jamie somehow won over the girl’s brothers and persuaded them to hide him among them? Had they agreed despite the dishonor Jamie had done to their sister?
Perhaps it was time to pay another visit to her brother—and the pretty young widow he was trying to protect.
Chapter Fourteen
It continued to snow for four days without stopping. Each day Jamie grew more restless. Certainly part of it was his body’s aching, unfulfilled need. He hadn’t been inside a woman for almost two months, though he’d been tortured with desire for one particular woman. He reminded himself this particular woman was the kind who both wanted and deserved a loving husband and was not for him. But his cock refused to listen and grew erect at the slightest provocation. Like when Brighid smiled at him with those sweet lips. Or when she walked past him, hips swaying and smelling faintly of lavender. Or when she ladled him a bowl of stew with her small, soft hands. Being in the cottage with her was hell.
But the tension he felt was more than sexual. His sense of unease was growing stronger by the hour, and he’d found himself searching for ways to occupy both mind and hands. He’d risen this morning unable to hide his misgivings and had immediately left the confinement of the cottage. First he’d gone for a short ride—to condition Hermes, he’d said. In truth, he was scouting, looking for any sign that Sheff and his men might have set out despite the frigid weather. All he’d found were rabbit tracks. Then he’d cleaned Hermes’s stall, groomed the horse as best he could, hauled water from the spring. When that was done, he’d cleaned his pistol. He’d performed this task in the dim light of the cowshed because the sight of the weapon frightened Brighid, reminded her of their peril.
A peril that was growing. Jamie could feel it. He looked out of the cowshed at the falling snow, slid his pistol into the waistline of his breeches. Sheff would have gotten Jamie’s message days ago and would be using this time to think, to plan. Sheff now knew they were somewhere nearby. When the snow let up, he’d saddle his horses, arm his men, release the hounds. It was just a matter of time before he found them. Jamie wanted to leave now. His every instinct told him not to delay.
Was he doing the right thing?
It was the only option open to him. He’d considered other possibilities, mulled them over in the dark hours of the night, but there was only one way to be certain Brighid was safe.
And what of Rhuaidhri?
Jamie cursed under his breath, took up a makeshift hoof pick, and walked over to Hermes’s stall. Keeping busy was the answer to the endless stream of questions in his mind, the constant uneasiness.
He patted the stallion’s withers, slid a hand down its left foreleg. Hermes lifted his hoof.
Rhuaidhri was not a bad sort, but he was young and inexperienced, with far more temper than good sense. Jamie felt the need to keep Rhuaidhri safe not only for the boy’s sake, but for Brighid, who clearly loved her brothers and who had already lost so much.
But how?
He pondered this as he checked around the frog for stones, then released the hoof, sliding his hands reassuringly up the stallion’s leg to its flank. Then he moved to Hermes’s left hind leg.
What about Fionn? As soon as Jamie returned to England, Fionn would become an easy target for Sheff’s wrath. Somehow, he needed to warn Fionn about the encounter at Taragh, let him know of the danger. Fionn needed to take Rhuaidhri, Muirin, and the boy Aidan and flee the county before Sheff had time to move against them.
Jamie brushed the remaining dirt from the left hind hoof and moved round the horse’s rump to its right hind leg. Then it occurred to him. It was so simple. But he would have to be careful. Rhuaidhri had been furious with him since the day he’d taken Brighid riding, furious and spoiling for a fight. He wasn’t likely to take direction from Jamie.
Jamie brushed the hoof clean, moved to the next one, giving the horse a pat on its flank as he passed. Hermes’s coat had grown thick during the five weeks he’d been stabled here. With no proper curry comb, no way to clip his coat, he was beginning to look shaggy and unkempt.
“I’ll give you a thorough grooming when we get back to London, old boy.”
“And when will that bloody be?” As if conjured by Jamie’s thoughts, Rhuaidhri stood just inside the cowshed doorway, arms across his chest, legs spread in a stance clearly meant to convey defiance.
“I leave as soon as the snow lets up.” Jamie brushed the remaining dirt from the hoof, released it. He brushed the dirt from his breeches. “I’m glad you’re here, Rhuaidhri. I need to take a message to Fionn.”
Brighid heard shouting outdoors, sighed as she pared potatoes for a stew. Jamie and Rhuaidhri were arguing again. The door opened with a rush of chill air. “I’m telling you it’s too dangerous.” Jamie bowed his head and ducked through the doorway. “I can’t let you do it.”
Rhuaidhri followed, his face red. “I don’t recall anyone puttin’ you in charge,
Sasanach.”
“It’s a long distance, and the earl’s men are looking for you. Just draw me a map, and I’ll be on my way.” Jamie walked over to his travel bag and reached for something. Brighid put down both knife and potatoes. “What—“ Rhuaidhri ignored her. “You’ll just get yourself lost. It should be me goin’.”
“Goin’ where?”
Jamie tossed her an annoyed look, pulled out ink and paper. “I need to get a message to Fionn. I’ve asked Rhuaidhri for directions, but he seems to think he should be the one to go.”
“I know the land,
Sasanach.
You don’t.”
“I’m a fast learner. Besides, this will require both speed and stealth. I’ll leave Hermes here so that if you need to get away quickly, you’ll be able to ride.” “Tell me!” Brighid felt her fear swell. “I’m swift and quiet as a fox.” Rhuaidhri puffed up his chest.
Brighid stomped her foot, shouted. “Someone had best be tellin’ me what the bloody hell is goin’ on!” Jamie and Rhuaidhri gaped at her, astonished at her outburst. Rhuaidhri spoke first. “The
Sasanach
has decided he needs to let Fionn know what happened at Taragh in case the
iarla
tries to take his anger out on Fionn.” Brighid hadn’t thought of that. But Jamie was right. Now that he knew they were nearby, the
iarla
wasn’t likely to believe that Fionn knew nothing. Her brother would be an easy mark, a target, a hostage to be used against them. Someone needed to warn him. “He wants me to give him directions, but I think I should go, bein’ as I already know the way.” “I don’t like the idea of either of you out in this cold.”
She didn’t like the idea of Fionn going unwarned, either. “There are still a few hours of daylight left. A strong man ought to be able to make it there and back before dawn.” Jamie placed paper and ink on the table. “Draw me a map.”
“No. What if you get lost and spend the night in the wild?” Rhuaidhri took a step toward the table. “It wouldn’t be the first time. The American wilderness is much more dangerous than anything you have here.”
Brighid didn’t know what to think. She didn’t want either her brother or Jamie out in the snow. She knew Jamie was strong and fast and had learned tricks from the
Indians that enabled him to track, fight, move graceful and quiet as a cat. She’d seen that for herself. But Rhuaidhri knew the way and was strong and capable enough to make the trip himself. He’d done it before. “Perhaps you should both go.”
Both men shouted in unison. “No!”
Jamie glanced at her. “Someone needs to stay here to protect you.”
She tried not to look relieved. She hadn’t relished the thought of being alone through the night. “Aye, he’s right, Brighid. We cannot leave you alone.”
Rhuaidhri pointed at Jamie. “You’ve got the pistol,
Sasanach.
You should stay with her. I can take care of myself.” Jamie’s brow furrowed with disapproval. “I can’t let you take that risk.”
“You don’t have the right to be tellin’ us what to do. This is a matter for Brighid and me to decide as it involves the fate of our family!”
Jamie crossed his arms over his chest, met Rhuaidhri’s gaze. “Very well.”
At this truce, both men looked at her expectantly. She hesitated. A dozen what-ifs raced through her mind, none of them reassuring. She looked at her brother, who was impatient and fair bursting with vinegar, and Jamie, who returned her measuring gaze with an inscrutable gaze of his own. “Let Rhuaidhri take it, Jamie. He knows the way. He won’t get lost, and he knows how to hide and keep warm.”
Jamie stood, hands on his hips, his expression grave.
“If they should catch him or he should fail—“
“That won’t happen,
Sasanach”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t.” Jamie sat at the table, quickly wrote a letter, folded it. He dripped wax from the candle onto the paper to seal it, marked it with his ring. Brighid took a deep breath, worried for her brother’s sake. “Let me pack you some food to take along. Meanwhile, sit down and have some stew. There’s nothing in it yet but rabbit, but it’ll warm and nourish you.” She dished Rhuaidhri a bowl of broth and cooked meat, then took a cloth bag that had held potatoes and dropped in several oatcakes, a few bites of cheese, and an apple. “Take this.” Jamie rummaged through his travel bag and pulled out a leather pouch. “
Pernmican
.” Brighid took the pouch, unsure she’d heard him correctly.
“Pern ... What?”
“It’s a kind of travel food used by the Indians—dried meat and fruit set in animal fat. It tastes like hell, but it will fill your stomach and give you strength.” Rhuaidhri wrinkled his nose. “I’ve heard they eat dogs.” A broad smile spread over Jamie’s face. “Not if young Irishmen are available.”
Brighid smiled despite herself, dropped the pemmi. .. whatever it was in the bag. “Any Indian silly enough to eat my brother would end up with a devil of a bellyache.” In no time, Rhuaidhri had filled his stomach and stuffed his coat with straw for extra warmth.
“Remember to ask Fionn for bacon, eggs, potatoes, cheese—everything you can carry, Rhuaidhri.” Brighid wrapped his scarf around his neck, pulled his hat down over his tousled blond hair. “There’s a blanket in the bag if you get too cold.”
Jamie shook his head. “It should be me going.” “Oh, shut your gob.” Rhuaidhri rolled his eyes, tucked the letter in his coat. “You’d just get lost, and then I’d have to go find you. This saves me time.” “Be careful, Rhuaidhri.” Brighid gave her brother a hug.
“I’ll be fine.” Rhuaidhri kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m your sister. It’s my job to worry.”
Rhuaidhri stepped to the door, opened it, looked back.
Doubt clouded his eyes. “
An mbeidh tu sabhailte anseo leis an Sasanach ud”
Are you going to be safe alone with the Sasanach?
She glanced over her shoulder at Jamie. He stood, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall by the hearth. She would never be safe around him, not when her own desires betrayed her. She nodded. “Aye.” “See you in the morning, sister.” Rhuaidhri nodded, slung the bag over his shoulder. “Take care of her,
Sasanach,
or—” “She’ll be safe.”
Brighid felt a stab of sadness. Her little brother looked so young and vulnerable walking into the snowy afternoon alone.
“He’ll be fine.” Jamie came to stand beside her, looked out the door at the sky. “The snow is letting up.” “So it is.” Her feeling of sadness darkened to gloom. She knew that when the snow stopped, Jamie would leave.
Brighid cleaned the last of the dishes, dried her hands on her apron, looked toward the door for what must have been the tenth time.