Chapter Forty-Two
Rut
Rut sat in the back of the boat enjoying the scenery.
After all, it had been a long time since she’d been on the mainland, especially in this direction.
She’d been to Lochaline not long ago, but not toward Oban, though she had to admit she wasn’t exactly sure where they were headed. She really didn’t care.
Dermot Rankin had surely lost his mind. Of that she was certain.
She glanced over at him, standing tall in the wind, the harsh planes of his face holding strong.
If she stood, the wind would blow her over, but not Dermot.
He had an inner strength most men lacked, though both his son and her son carried similar constitutions.
He wouldn’t back down to whatever he had planned, but she intended to give him as much grief as possible. How dare he try to tell her what to do!
Reviewing their situation, she thought about the good parts.
She did trust Dermot, and she’d enjoyed their time together during the storm.
The empty cottage of Tristan’s had suited them perfectly.
They were headed on a boat to Clan MacLean, or so the ship’s captain said, and MacLean was a former ally of her dear husband.
No one there would pay them much mind, far better than being on Mull where everyone knew everyone’s business.
She’d tried to find out what Dermot had scheduled for the two of them once they landed, but he wouldn’t talk. It could be he just wished to go on a small journey.
Or it could be that he’d lost his mind completely. Perhaps he was going daft and planned to go to London. She hated London. All those people with their noses up in the air like they were better than the Scots.
But her mind took her further. What if he was truly losing it and was thinking of going to Europe?
While she’d loved to go, she surely wasn’t interested in traveling in a galley ship without any of her belongings.
She had only one other gown with her, one night rail, and a few things to take care of her basic feminine needs.
He wouldn’t do such a thing, would he?
He glanced over at her and winked.
Rut stuck her tongue out at him.
Dermot’s head fell back in a guttural laugh that nearly sent her into hysterics, but she had an image to uphold, so she glared at him, narrowing her gaze in the haughtiest look she could summon.
“We’ll see, my lady. We shall see!” He chuckled again, this one a husky sound that conjured up images of bodies with limbs intertwined in nearly impossible ways.
Rut wished to throw a stick at him, hit him in the head with a giant boulder, kick him in the shins, slap him until he begged for forgiveness. But then again, she thought about kissing him in some unfamiliar places.
But for now, she was on an adventure. She had no idea what was about to happen.
And she felt more alive than she’d felt in a long, long time.