“You’d sell your horse?” Margaret asked.
“I need the money to pay for our passage,” he said as he rubbed the horse’s forelock. “And he’s not mine.”
“Whose horse is he?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I stole him from the palace stables.”
She laughed despite her shock. After her husband and brothers, who always tried to hide their selfish motives and unsavory acts, his frank admission had a certain charm.
When they reached the cottage, she counted five children outside, who were either pulling weeds in the small vegetable garden or hanging clothes out to dry. Their father watched them approach with narrowed eyes.
“Remember, ye promised to give me no trouble,” Finn said in a low voice. “Don’t try to run off on me.”
Where would she go?
While Finn and the man haggled over the price, the children stopped working and came over to greet Margaret and Ella and pat the horse. The contrast between these happy, boisterous children and Ella, who cautiously peeked out at them from behind Margaret’s skirts, worried her. Fortunately, the men did not take long to conclude their deal for the horse.
“Be good to him,” Finn said and rubbed the horse’s ears.
Once they were on their way and out of earshot, Margaret said, “Ye do know that horse was worth far more than what ye sold him for.”
“Aye, but the man could not pay what the horse is worth without taking food out of the mouths of his children,” he said. “As it was all gain to me and enough for our passage, it was a good bargain for us both.”
While the two men bartered, she had watched the other man closely and was certain he would have paid more, whether he could afford to or not. She was accustomed to men of vast wealth who squeezed their tenants for every farthing with never a thought for how their families would suffer for it. And yet her kidnapper, who did not appear to have an extra penny to his name, had shown kindness toward a stranger out of concern for the man’s children.
She found herself increasingly at ease with this Highlander, which was a mistake. She reminded herself that, while he appeared to have a soft heart for children, he was also a womanizer, a charmer, a horse thief, and a kidnapper. Such an unpredictable man just made it more difficult to anticipate the dangers.
###
Finn took another long pull from his flask as he watched Margaret put her sleeping daughter to bed in the basket, leaving the two of them alone in the night before the fire. How in the hell did he get himself in this situation? He had not thought through what it would be like traveling with Lady Margaret Douglas. He shook his head as he recalled the frozen look on her face when they were in the tavern.
He should never have taken her into the tavern.
He never should have taken her at all.
“You should go to sleep as well,” he told her.
He’d wager she had never slept on the ground in her life before this. No doubt, the maids fluffed her pillows each night. Probably took two maids to comb out her hair and strip her of her fancy gown—ach, he should not think about that.
When he agreed to this, he thought the widowed Douglas sister would be older. Matronly. Definitely unattractive. It was just his bad luck she was impossibly beautiful. Hell, if she was going to look that good, she ought to at least be difficult. He’d expected his highborn hostage to be complaining, demanding, and generally unpleasant.Ach, was that too much to ask?
Lady Margaret was trouble, all right. But the wrong kind of trouble.
He felt her eyes on him as he took another long drink. Without the bairn for distraction, she could not quite hide her unease at being alone with him in the dark. Unease? Hell, she must be scared witless. He was a horse’s arse for not realizing it sooner.
“Don’t worry, lass, you’re safe from me,” he said. “You’re not my kind of woman.”
“What is your kind?” she asked after a long silence. “Women like the one in the tavern?”
“Exactly. I like hot-blooded women who want a good time”—he paused to take another swallow—“and nothing more.”
Lady Margaret was careful, contained, and highborn to boot. She could not be further from the sort of woman he liked. And yet he wanted her so much his teeth ached.
CHAPTER 10
Margaret ought to be relieved she would not have to fight off her captor’s amorous advances. Instead, his lack of interest made her feel wooden inside, as if she was lacking something other women had. William told her so often enough.
You’re cold as a fish.Would she never get his voice out of her head? She had more important concerns now. She had a daughter to worry about. She lay down with her hand resting on Ella’s basket and watched the Highlander, who had moved farther away and leaned against a tree wrapped in his plaid.