Chapter Fourteen
Jenna awoke with a groan as sudden light flooded her room. She cracked her eyes open to see Ingrid yanking back the heavy drapes.
“Aargh!” Jenna cried, putting a pillow over her head. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Ingrid came to stand by her bed. “I’m ensuring ye get up at a decent hour,” she replied, an amused tone to her voice. “Which is what ye asked me to do, if ye remember?”
Jenna pulled away the pillow and squinted up at the maid. “I did? Well please ignore me the next time I say something so idiotic.”
“Oh dear,” Ingrid said. “Ye sound a little grumpy this morning.”
“Grumpy? I am not grumpy. Just… tired.”
Ingrid busied herself tidying. “That’s hardly surprising considering ye and the laird’s… nocturnal activities.”
Jenna bolted upright. “What do you mean by that?”
Ingrid shrugged nonchalantly but Jenna could tell the young woman was burning with curiosity. She could barely conceal the grin that kept trying to creep across her face.
Jenna scowled and crossed her arms. “Come on. Out with it.”
Ingrid giggled. “Oh, all right. It’s all over the castle anyway.”
“What is?”
“Stories about how ye and laird Arran went out together in the middle of the night.”
Jenna stifled a groan. Great. This was all she needed. It wasn’t hard to figure out what conclusion the gossips had reached when the guards had seen her and Arran returning together in the small hours.
“It’s not like that,” Jenna protested. “We were just… working.”
Her protests sounded feeble even to her own ears. Sure, the night had started with Jenna merely wanting to see the anchor stone and see if she could get the magic working. But the night had most definitely not ended that way.
Thoughts of the kiss she’d shared with Arran flashed through her mind and the heat in her cheeks only intensified. Oh, my. That kiss…
Even now, as she thought about it, as she thought about him, she felt her heartbeat quicken and her skin tingle. She’d never felt anything like it. In that instant on the beach she’d wanted him so badly that nothing, nothing else in the world had mattered.
And that terrified her.
She was here to do a job, get paid, and go home. Getting involved with the man who’d employed her was a bad idea. She couldn’t afford to get distracted. And besides, hadn’t she sworn off men? That she would never, ever, risk her heart again?
Risk your heart? she asked herself. Don’t be ridiculous. Your heart is the last thing that’s involved in this. It’s just lust. Nothing more. So forget it and get on with what you’re being paid for.
She swallowed, then looked at Ingrid. “Well, I’d be grateful if you could set the gossips straight. There is definitely nothing going on between me and Arran MacLeod.”
Ingrid dipped her head. “As ye wish.”
Jenna scowled. Why did she get the impression that Ingrid hadn’t believed a word she’d said and that denying it would only incite the gossips even more? She threw back the covers and swung her legs out of bed in annoyance. “Have I missed breakfast?”
“No, my lady. It’s being served in the great hall.”
“Good. I’m starving.”
She climbed out of bed, had a quick wash, and then allowed Ingrid to help her dress in a long yellow gown that matched the primroses that grew outside the castle walls. This done, Jenna made her way through the corridors to the great hall.
She thought through the events of last night.
She had gone to the anchor stone alone in the hope of being able to connect with it somehow, to find a clue as to what she’d done wrong the first time.
But as she’d examined the stone—and had a blazing row with it, truth be told—she’d discovered no hints as to what she needed to do to make the magic work.
But that didn’t mean she was about to give up. She felt a renewed sense of purpose this morning.
I’ve no doubt ye will succeed, lass. Lir wouldnae have sent me to ye otherwise. I trust her judgment, and I trust ye.
A warm sensation lit in her stomach as she remembered the earnest look in Arran’s eyes as he’d spoken those words to her.
Arran was not a man to say things lightly and his belief in her was like a warm breeze that lifted her up, made her feel a little lighter.
She couldn’t remember when anyone other than her aunts had said anything like that to her. Certainly not Alex.
She would try again today. She would succeed today.
Pulling the folded map from the pocket of her dress, she unfolded it and studied it as she walked down the stairs.
Running her fingers along the ink that marked the coastline, she saw that there was another anchor stone slightly south of Dun Tabor.
She bit her lip. Maybe that one would work…
“Good morning, Jenna.”
She looked up to see Rosaline waiting for her by the door to the great hall. “Oh, morning! Sorry, I was miles away.”
Rosaline glanced at the map. “So I see. Are ye joining us for breakfast?”
Jenna nodded and the two women opened the door only to be met by a group of men coming the other way, Arran in the lead.
He froze as he spotted Jenna. “Er… Mother,” he said, giving Rosaline a slight bow. “Jenna. Good morning.”
Jenna’s insides fluttered as his gaze landed on her. Unbidden, memories of last night’s kiss flooded through her, and she had to swallow a few times before she could speak.
“Um. Good morning.” She brandished the map at him. “Actually, I’m glad I caught you. I’d like to go to the second anchor stone today.” She pointed at the mark on the map. “It’s not far and with any luck, it might have more residual magic than the first one. What do you think?”
Arran glanced at the map then back at Jenna. Was she imagining it, or was there a slight blush to his cheeks?
“Aye, fine. Whatever ye wish. Mal will attend ye after ye have finished breakfast. He will escort ye wherever ye wish to go.”
Mal? Eh? “But I thought we would—”
“Ye must excuse me,” Arran cut in. “There are matters I have to attend to.”
He gave Jenna and Rosaline another small bow and then hurried off with his men.
Jenna watched him go with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
They had agreed to pretend that last night never happened, and it seemed that Arran was determined to stick to that agreement.
She knew it was for the best, but that didn’t stop her feeling like she had a bowling ball sitting in her stomach.
“Jenna? Is everything all right?”
She blinked and, realizing she’d been staring after Arran, forced a smile as she looked at Rosaline. “Never better. Let’s go get some breakfast, shall we?”
Yet even though she was hungry, Jenna found herself hardly eating a thing. Throughout breakfast she felt restless and out of sorts and kept catching herself glancing at the door, hoping that Arran would walk through it. He didn’t.
Annoyed with herself for feeling this way, she was glad when Mal strode in and came over to where she was sitting with Rosaline at the head table.
He gave a slight nod in greeting, brushing back a blond braid.
Even though they were cousins, Jenna could see little family resemblance between him and Arran.
Their coloring was similar but Mal was bigger and blockier than his cousin, and seemed more inclined to smile than the laird.
He bestowed that smile on Jenna now. “Arran tells me ye wish to ride out today? Well, I’ve organized the men so if ye are ready, we can be on our way.”
Jenna pushed away her half-finished bowl of porridge and stood. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Outside, she found a guard of at least thirty men waiting in the courtyard with their horses. Jenna tried not to scowl as she looked them over. Thirty men? Really?
Mal led her over to a docile gray horse whose head was hanging down, half-asleep. “This is Misty. She’s a gentle beast who we use for teaching youngsters to ride. Ye should be able to handle her.”
A child’s horse? Did they really think she was that useless?
At her stony silence, Mal cleared his throat. “Or, if ye prefer, ye can ride with me—”
“No, Misty will do just fine. Thanks.” She most certainly did not want to share a saddle with Mal. He wasn’t Arran, after all.
She thrust the map at Mal and pointed to the spot on the coast where the second anchor stone was marked. “That’s where I’d like to go, please.”
Mal took the map and nodded. “Aye. I know it.”
“Right.” She approached Misty cautiously, as though she was some wild stallion who might stomp her into mush. Misty raised her head and watched Jenna dolefully.
“Hello, girl,” she muttered. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but I’m sure we can be friends, huh?
” As she’d seen Arran and the others do, she got her foot in the stirrup and then bounced a few times on her other foot to work up momentum before boosting herself into the saddle.
It only partially worked and she ended up with her belly over the saddle and had to wriggle her way around to the proper position before pulling herself upright and taking the reins.
Mal and his men studiously looked away.
“Well?” she demanded. “What are we waiting for?”
It was a bright, still morning, with a warm sun beating down on the countryside and the sparkling blue ocean spreading out to the horizon.
Jenna guessed it was the kind of day that horsey people the world over would love to spend out on a hack, enjoying the great outdoors, but to Jenna, the two-hour journey was nothing short of torture.
By the time Mal announced that they were nearing their destination, Jenna’s backside was numb, her fingers hurt from clenching the reins in a death grip, and she felt like she was slowly being sawn in half.
As Mal called a halt and Misty followed the lead of the other horses by plodding to a stop, Jenna swung her leg over the saddle and slid ungracefully to the ground where she landed in a heap among a pile of prickly heather.
Groaning, she sat up. People rode these things for fun? Were they out of their minds?