Chapter Sixteen
The next day as they rode, Ian glanced sidelong at Jo. There was an ease to her carriage and a lightness to her face. “I would not go so far as to say ye seemed relaxed this morrow, but ye do appear, shall we say, less guarded.”
She raised a brow at him, a soft smile curving her lips, but she did not reply.
He looked overhead. The sun was beginning it’s descent. “We’ve crossed into Scotland.”
Her eyes brightened. “Really? How can you tell?”
He smiled. “I’ve made this journey a time or two. It just occurred to me that we did not stop for dinner. Are ye hungry?”
She shook her head. “Nay.”
They rode on in silence for a while longer, then to his surprise she said, “Tell me something?”
His mouth fell open for a moment as he stared at her, speechless, but then he shook his head, remembering himself. “Forgive me. Ye’ve hardly spoken since yesterday. So, what would ye like to know?”
She shrugged. “Tell me anything. I like listening to you talk.”
“All right then,” he said searching his mind for something simple and joyful to tell. Straightaway, his mind returned to his family, and he remembered the last time he had seen his sister, Rose. “I’m going to be a merchant,” he began.
She looked straight at him, raising a skeptical brow. “With a fleet of ships, I suppose.”
He smiled, knowing she had assumed he was only jesting. “Mayhap one day, but I’ll start with the Messenger.”
“I see, so you have a ship in mind, then?”
“’Tis my sister’s ship. She’s a beauty.”
“Your sister or the Messenger?”
He laughed. “Both.”
She canted her head to the side, clearly trying to discern whether he was jesting. “Your sister really owns a merchant ship?”
“Indeed, she does. It was payment for a service she rendered a wealthy English Captain.”
“What sort of service?”
A slight smile curved his lips. “That story is Rose’s to tell. Anyway, she wants me to captain the Messenger when I’m ready.”
Her eyes brightened. “You’re truly in earnest?”
“I’m as serious as I’ve ever been.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “Then why are you not out there right now, sailing beneath the clouds?”
He couldn’t tell her the truth—that he was a member of a secret alliance, advancing the cause of Scottish sovereignty.
He, like all of Scotland’s agents, guarded this secret well and would never speak casually of their cause, especially to an English lass with secrets of her own.
His lips curved in a half smile. “How could I protect ye from the middle of the sea?”
She blushed, fueling his desire. And then her stomach growled, deepening the color of her cheeks.
He chuckled. “I thought ye said ye weren’t hungry?”
“I didn’t want to slow our progress. To be honest, I’m so hungry I could gnaw on my slippers.”
“We haven’t supplies for a proper feast, but I think I can put together a meal that might be tastier than yer slippers.”
JO WAS RELIEVED WHEN they stopped a short while later.
“Behind those trees and down a slight hill is a stream. We can wash, tend to the horses and rest,” he said.
“And eat,” she chimed in.
He laughed. The sound was deep and masculine and sent a chill coursing up her spine. She squatted down and buried her face in Ruby’s furry neck. “How are you, girl?”
Ruby wagged her tail in answer.
“Come on, lass,” Ian said, drawing her gaze. “I’ll race ye down to the stream for a swim.”
Jo jerked up right. “I shouldn’t...I mean, of course, I need to wash but...”
He chuckled. “I was talking to Ruby.”
Jo’s face burned. “Of course you were...I was just...” She stood straight and rushed off in the opposite direction, Ruby padding along behind her.
“I’m going to gather some wood for a fire,” she called without looking back.
When she passed a tree, she quickly stepped to the side to conceal herself behind the wide trunk.
Laying her head back against the bark, she released a long, slow breath.
“You have to get a hold of yourself, Jo.”
Once upon a time, she had giggled with Ruby in her chamber about the man her father would have one day consented for her to marry. Romance, companionship, love—these were all things to which she had once aspired. The past years had almost blotted them from her mind, her memory, her heart...almost.
Trust no one.
But mama!
Trust no one.
But Bishop!
“Trust no one,” she whispered to herself and hung her head. Then she straightened and pushed back her shoulders. “Keep breathing.” She scanned the ground for wood. “Keep fighting.”
With her arms full and her heart resolute, she retraced her steps back to camp just as Ian came up the slope.
First, she spied his long hair, wet and slicked back away from his face.
Next, his broad, muscular shoulders and chest came into view.
She froze. He was singing as he continued up the gentle slope, his quiet voice deep and rich.
Dear God Above, was this meant to be some kind of test?
She chewed her bottom lip as she watched his stomach, ridged with hard muscle, shifting and tightening with his every step.
If it was a test, then she was failing horribly.
He crested the slope and smiled at her, his tunic gripped casually in his hand. Biting her lip, her gaze devoured the chiseled lines of muscles forming a V starting from the bottom of his sinewy torso and disappearing beneath his hose, which were slung low on his hips.
“Keep breathing,” she whispered frantically under her breath.
“It felt good to wash away the dust of the road,” he said smiling at her. Then he shook out his hair, the contours of his muscles rippling like the river from which he’d just emerged.
She swallowed hard. “Keep fighting.”
“What did ye say?”
She met his gaze. Droplets of water clung to his long lashes, making his blue eyes shine brighter than ever. She dropped the firewood where she stood and stormed past him. “I’m going to bathe.”
“I thought ye wanted to eat first?”
She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. If she did, she might charge at him and throw her arms around his neck and kiss him as she had in her dream.
“Ye said ye were nigh starving,” he called after her. “Ye threatened to gnaw on yer shoes.”
In truth, she was ready to gnaw on him.
She sped up, resisting the urge to sprint to the river. Ruby padded along beside her. When they reached the shore, Jo whisked her tunic over her head and waded into the briskly moving water. Crouching low, she cupped her hands and splashed her face. The icy water rushed down her neck and chest.
“Breathe,” she whispered to herself.
She didn’t understand what was happening.
Never had a man had such an affect on her.
Ian left her breathless and befuddled. She was even finding it difficult to meet his gaze without smiling like a halfwit.
Her stomach flipped and danced when he drew near.
The most innocent of touches—their hands grazing as they reached for the costrel or his hand on her waist while helping her into the saddle—sent her mind reeling.
“That’s enough,” she chided herself.
Nothing good could come of the feelings and flutterings plaguing her body.
For pity’s sake, she had been sent on a journey by a bishop to meet an abbot, all the while her thoughts lingered on temptations of the flesh. It was sacrilegious! Wasn’t it?
She turned to ask Ruby her opinion, but she was no where to be seen. Jo frowned. Ruby’s watchful eye was always trained on her. Where could she have gone?
Panic set in. Heart pounding, she sloshed through the current to shore, seized her tunic, and yanked it over her head. Dashing up the hill, she tugged it in place over her wet kirtle, then burst through the thicket, drawing to a full stop almost straightaway.
There, in the clearing, was Ruby, laying belly up in Ian’s arms, licking his face while he scratched her stomach.
Her chest tightened. Clearly, Ruby had succumbed to her own desire.
But I want to be curled up in his strong arms!
He glanced up and flashed his heart-stopping smile. “I told ye I would win her over. I’ve got a way with stubborn lassies.” He looked back down at Ruby with adoring eyes, and Jo had to resist storming off again.
For pity’s sake, now she was jealous of her dog!