CHAPTER EIGHT
A gypsy had grabbed a hold of Josephine, holding her tightly as he dragged her in Andrew’s direction. The subject of a price came up again, clearly meant for her. Andrew’s eyes were locked on her as if he had never seen her before but, in truth, it was an expression that Josephine would always remember.
There was great interest there… and great confidence.
But Josephine was quivering with fright, with anger, and was still trying to understand why Andrew wasn’t helping her. But when she got past that expression on his face, she realized that he wasn’t dressed in his usual style. He was without any protection at all, not even his broadsword. Instead, he was clad in heavy leather breeches and big boots. His linen tunic was open down his broad chest, revealing his tanned, slightly hairy skin beneath. She’d only ever seen him in mail, so to see him so casually dressed was something of a surprise. And, if she admitted it, pleasurable.
The man’s male beauty was unsurpassed.
Yet, her opinion of his comeliness didn’t stop her anger. There was still great confusion and angst. When the gypsy man brought her to a halt, Andrew came towards her as if to inspect her as a prize, stopping inches from her as his eyes raking over her curvaceous form. When his gaze came to rest upon hers again, Josephine thought she might start shouting obscenities at him again, but nothing seemed to come forth. Something in that intense gaze was mesmerizing.
But in his eyes, she saw something else, something that brought her anger to cool. Somehow, she saw protection, loyalty, and gentleness in the clear brown depths. Whatever she had initially thought about his presence here, she knew she was wrong. Down to her heart she knew it. He was here, and he was here to help… but how?
What was he planning?
There was more confusion in her heart now. How had he known she was even in trouble? She’d run off so quickly that no one knew where she’d gone, but Andrew evidently did. Perhaps he’d even followed her. Her eyes must have relayed her confusion, for she saw his face soften slightly. His eyes began to glimmer, with a message only for her if she dared look hard enough to read it…
Do not fear, my lady.
Andrew did, indeed, see Josephine’s expression. It was hard not to see it on her innocent face. He knew how frightened she was and he felt mounting rage at the gypsies for bringing the fear upon her. He tried very hard to convey comfort to her and he began to see that she understood him. That was good. But the anger he felt at the situation was something he wrestled with, and he suppressed the feeling, for it could very well jeopardize what he was trying to accomplish.
He was, in fact, playing a role and he had to be convincing. He was a buyer and she was his prospective possession. He put a hand up, grasping Josephine’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He turned her face from side-to-side, inspecting her.
“She is exquisite,” he said finally. “Where did you find her?”
Daume came to him. “Eli found her in the woods,” he said. “She claims to be the mistress of the nearby fortress.”
“Indeed?” Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “Take the gag from her mouth.”
Daume nodded to the man holding Josephine, who complied. The gag fell away and Josephine licked her lips, again looking to Andrew. He smiled seductively at her.
“What’s your name, lass?” he asked.
As she looked at him doubtfully, he prayed to God that she would be smart enough to play the game. There was something in his expression beseeching her to understand what he was trying to do. Not really knowing the woman, he wasn’t sure if she’d be sharp enough to understand.
Fortunately for them both, she was.
“Josephine de Carron,” she said. “I am Lady Ayr.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“I have seen nineteen summers.”
He cocked his head at her. “I like them younger.”
Josephine’s eyes blazed. Before she could stop herself, she retorted. “That is probably because an older woman is smart enough to know about the likes of you!”
The group of gypsies gasped, Daume coughed, and Thane and Andrew laughed out loud.
“She has spirit!” Andrew announced, then turned to Daume. “I must have her. How much will you take?”
Daume looked surprised, but quickly his mind began to churn. “To be truthful,” he said to Andrew, “I was plannin’ to keep her myself. She is just my taste.”
Andrew put his hand on Daume’s shoulder. “Come, come my friend,” he said. “You have many women in your camp. My brother and I are alone with no companionship. Surely we can agree on a price.”
Daume was reluctant to part with his trophy but Andrew pressed the point. He began to point at Josephine, scrutinizing her. “She is not so grand a prize after all,” he said. “Look at her; she is small and pale and is bad-natured. Do you really want her with your people, causing problems? You know that she will only be trouble to you. I will pay you to take her off your hands.”
Daume was fairly limited in his intelligence. He couldn’t see beyond the moment and, at the moment, money for this captured woman was very appealing. With a long glance at Josephine as if to confirm what Andrew had said, he looked at the muscular, auburn-haired man.
“Two hundred marks,” he said finally.
Andrew didn’t miss a beat as he motioned to Thane. Outwardly, he appeared highly confidant, but inwardly he was praying that Thane had enough money with him. He then caught the expression on Thane’s face as the man approached; he didn’t have enough. So Andrew turned his head to Josephine.
She was looking at him openly, her big eyes wide with apprehension. What was he going to do next? She didn’t have to wait long for an answer because in four long strides he was directly in front of her. Any closer and he would be standing in her shoes. Her head was tilted far back as she looked up into his eyes with uncertainty and, perhaps, with a little fear. She had no idea as to what he was going to do, or how he was going to rescue her from the clutches of these outlaws. But looking into his eyes, she knew instinctively to trust him. Unspoken words passed between them and her heart calmed.
In truth, she had little choice.
Andrew’s entire body was trembling as he stood ever so close to her. He’d felt the same way when he’d held her while she’d been ill and the attraction he’d felt to her had nearly overwhelmed him. God’s Bones, she was so beautiful. Thank God, Daume was more interested in money than in her. Now, he regretted what he was about to do.
But it was necessary.
Josephine’s hands were still bound so she offered no resistance as Andrew’s hand entwined in her hair and yanked her head back savagely. She yelped in pain and surprise, but was cut off as his mouth clamped over hers. But before his lips touched her, she heard him utter two words.
“Forgive me.”
Andrew’s lips were hard and insisting, bruising her soft lips. Josephine tried to pull away, but his hand in her hair made that impossible. The kiss became stronger and deeper, his tongue prying her lips open and licking the soft, pink insides of her mouth. Had she not been so frightened, she might have enjoyed it, for it wasn’t in any way repulsive. But his grip on her head scared her, and her mind began to race. He’d begged for her forgiveness, but for what? What he was doing or what he was about to do? In a surge of panic, she bit down with her sharp teeth on his lower lip.
Andrew didn’t utter a sound, but he pulled back with a start. His eyes were wide with surprise as he tasted his own blood. His gaze lingered on her a moment, as if to ask her why she bit him, but he already knew why. He took a step back and, with his eyes still lingering on her, he spoke.
“She is not worth two hundred marks,” he stated.
Turning abruptly, he marched over to Thane and jerked his head sideways in a silent command to follow him. With Josephine and Daume looking on, surprised with the swift motion, Thane fell in behind his commander and began to follow him away from the fire. Daume began to sputter and looked back to his group for support, thinking he’d just lost a good deal of money, when Josephine took a couple of steps forward and began to follow Andrew as he walked away.
She was sorry! She had been frightened and reacted the only way she could think of. Oh, Andrew, please do not leave me… please!
“Andrew!” she cried.
Andrew froze and Thane almost plowed into the back of him. Both men turned around slowly, with Andrew slower than Thane. The expression on his face was unreadable, but Thane looked like a child who just got caught stealing sweetcakes. Guilt was written all over him.
But Daume wasn’t looking at the men; he was looking at Josephine. He didn’t look suspicious, only terribly confused. He scowled at her.
“Andrew? Who is Andrew?” he demanded.
Josephine was on the verge of tears of frustration and of fear. She had destroyed Andrew’s rescue plan with one word; God help her, she knew that. Whatever came now, she deserved. She wouldn’t blame him if he simply walked away. She looked at Daume, her mouth working.
“He… I mean he…” she stuttered. “He looks like someone I knew once. I do not know why I said that. I am mistaken.”
Daume looked at her, dubious, and for a split second, Andrew thought Daume might just be dense enough to accept her lame explanation. Still, he knew he had to do something before it all tumbled down on them, so he decided to take action. He stormed over to Josephine, bent down in front of her, and tossed her up over one broad shoulder like a sack of grain.
“She comes with me,” he said angrily. “No wench is going to bite me and get away with it. And I’ll only pay one hundred marks for her. She’s not worth anything more.”
Daume found his wits and his mouth. “Two hundred marks!” he roared. “No less!”
Andrew could sense a fight coming. He looked at Thane and knew the man was ready; he could see it in Thane’s body language. The two men were quite a bit larger than the gypsies, but the man-to-man comparison was at least seven to one. If Sully came on cue, then the ratio would be cut in half. But his primary concern was getting Josephine to safety before any blows were dealt. He motioned to Thane, who was at his side quickly. With a bit more care, he handed Josephine to his second.
“To the woods,” he growled.
Thane understood. Andrew meant get her the hell out of here before she got caught in the middle of a fight. As Thane moved quickly away from the growing hostility, Andrew squared off with the short, fat gypsy. He smiled threateningly.
“The whore goes with me either way,” he said in a tone that made the hair on Daume’s neck stand on end. “One hundred marks or nothing. The choice is yours.”
Daume’s face flushed. “How dare you steal from me?” he sputtered. “I graciously open my camp to you, give you food and drink, and you have the gall to steal from me! I ought to cut your heart out!”
Andrew’s smile faded and he glared at the man. It didn’t take long before some fool made the first move, so Andrew flew into action. He caught the man square in the face with a backhanded fist, sending him sprawling. After that, the whole camp was moving in on Andrew.
Just inside the edge of the trees, Thane deposited Josephine with Sully, who quickly cut off her leather bindings. Thane barely had time to look back over the clearing just to see Andrew throw the first blow.
“Damnation!”
Thane took off at a dead run, heading back into the clearing to help Andrew. Sully forgot about Josephine for the moment, looking to see where Thane was heading in such a hurry.
“God Bones…” he muttered.
Now, Sully went barreling after Thane, rushing out to help Andrew fight off men who were clearly trying to kill him. Still in the thicket, Josephine pulled way the leather bindings and rubbed her wrists as she stood up, watching Andrew, Thane, and Sully in a vicious fight with several gypsies and feeling a good deal of concern for their safety. They’d come to save her, but at what cost? Three of them against the entire camp? They risked themselves to rescue her. She couldn’t let one or more of them come to harm.
She had to help them.
Josephine knew how to fight. She wasn’t a weak female, by any means. Quickly, she looked around for a weapon and her gaze came to rest on a small log on the floor of the forest, right at her feet. It had broken branches at the top of it, like spikes, and she picked it up without hesitation. Wielding it with two hands, she charged back into the clearing. She was going to kill those slimy sons-of-whores for laying a hand on her and then she was going to find that little bitch and retrieve her mother’s necklace.
There was vengeance in her heart this day.
As Josephine entered the clearing with the wood held high, she never gave a second thought to her own well-being. All she could think of was Andrew, Sully, and Thane, and the fight they were facing because of her.
Quickly, she engaged one man and one woman, people who charged at her. But she faked them both out, turning one way but swinging another, just as Sully had taught her. She brought the log down on the man’s skull, quickly disabling him, while she used the same motion to slam the woman in the face. As the woman ran off screaming, Josephine began swinging her club in a frenzy.
It was a nasty fight from the beginning, unfortunate because neither Andrew nor Sully realized Josephine had entered the fray. In fact, Andrew had his own problems at the moment; a screeching woman hung on his neck as he traded blows with a big, hairy man. The man, due to Andrew’s human cargo, was able to land a good blow to Andrew’s ribs, but as he closed in for a more devastating blow, Andrew turned around and thrust the woman on him as he pried her arms from his neck.
Kicking and yelling, the two went down in a pile and Andrew moved on. He was turning to see what had become of Sully and Thane when a man jumped out at him, but Andrew threw a punch that sent the man to the ground. As he pushed his way through the writhing crowd, he was growing amused. The gypsies, for some reason, were fighting each other more than they were fighting the enemy. Apparently, the excitement of a fight was all they needed.
It was bedlam.
But his humor vanished when he caught sight of a purple dress. Josephine was swinging her log at men’s heads, pounding those who came too close to her, and Andrew felt a surge of panic at the sight. God’s Bones, she was in the middle of this fray! But even as he began pushing people out of the way on his quest to get to her, he came to realize that this was no ordinary woman in a fight. He knew she’d wielded a sword for Torridon but that didn’t have an impact on him until this moment.
She was fearless in her fight. He could see that in an instant. Her bravery was beyond compare. What was it he’d told her? That she no longer had to protect her fortress? He could see now that it had been a mistake for him to say that. Cleary, she was at home in a fight.
His respect, and his attraction, grew.
Oblivious to the fact that Andrew had her in his sights, Josephine was beating the brains out of a man until someone grabbed her club. Furious, and frightened, she looked up to see that Andrew had a hold of it. He was fixed on her, but before he could say a word, two men rushing at him from the crowd.
Josephine saw them coming.
“Andrew!” she cried. “Behind you!”
Instinctively, Andrew’s fists balled up and he swung to his right, catching one man in the stomach as the other man managed to hook an arm around Andrew’s neck and pull him to the ground. While the first man lay gasping in the dirt, Andrew wrestled with the other man, trying to dislodge him.
The gypsy was furiously throwing his fists about and Andrew was doing no more than fending him off, trying not to get hit in the face. Weary of grappling with the man, Andrew brought up a knee and caught the man in the crotch. With a scream, the man rolled off.
Staggering to his feet, Andrew went to Josephine, who still stood grasping the log with white knuckles. He grabbed her firmly by the upper arms.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You were to stay out of sight!”
“I came to help!” she said breathlessly. “You three were grossly outnumbered!”
Andrew caught movement in the forest and looked up. A look of satisfaction crossed his face.
“Not anymore,” he said flatly. “Help has arrived.”
Josephine turned around, seeing her men spilling out through the trees towards them. She let out a sigh of relief and turned back to Andrew, but several feet to her right, she could see Sully pounding the hell out of the burly gypsy. The man had sense enough to roll away from Sully’s merciless fists but when he came around again, he was grasping a wicked-looking dagger.
“Nay!” she breathed, and broke away from Andrew. “Sully, watch out!”
Andrew reached out to grab her, but she was fast on her feet and halfway to Sully by the time Andrew started after her. But she was too late; Sully took the dagger in his upper arm and Josephine screamed, dropping the log and rushing for him as he stumbled backwards.
Andrew intercepted the gypsy before he could move on Sully again. His rock-like fist caught the gypsy in the jaw and the man’s head snapped sideways, but he didn’t go down. Andrew’s other fist pummeled him again and the man’s head jerked in the opposite direction, with blood and spit flying everywhere. Still, he did not go down, but he was weaving dangerously. With the final blow, Andrew brought up a huge booted leg and kicked the man right in his soft belly.
He went down like a stone.
Andrew ripped the dagger from the man’s hand and tossed it away, far away, before turning to Josephine and Sully. Sully was on his feet, watching the approach of the Torridon army as Josephine wrapped his bleeding arm with a strip of purple wool from her surcote.
“It is not too deep,” she announced to Andrew. “A few stitches and he shall be as good as new.”
Andrew nodded, watching her grimace as she tore the wool and tied it tightly. She seemed greatly concerned for Sully, which spurred Andrew oddly. She was showing concern for another man and, somehow, he didn’t like that. Not even though it was Sully. Not a man prone to jealousy, he refused to admit that he might actually be feeling some. Impossible! He’d never felt jealousy with regard to a woman in his life and he wasn’t about to start now.
Still… it would be nice for her to show him the same concern, too.
Pulling himself away from Josephine and Sully, Andrew’s attention turned to the fight at hand. The Torridon forces had infiltrated the group, quickly quelling whatever resistance there was. Two Torridon knights – Etienne and Burl – were on horseback, with their massive war horses snorting and dancing, knocking about men and snapping with their big teeth. Etienne reined his steed to a halt and dismounted.
“You are injured,” he said to Sully. “How badly?”
Sully shook his head. “It is a scratch,” he assured him. “But I want these people rounded up and sent on their way. They are not to spend another moment on Torridon lands.”
“Wait!” Josephine cried, putting a hand on Etienne’s arm to stop him from following through. “When I was brought to the group, one of the gypsy women took a pendant from around my neck. It belonged to my mother and I want it back.”
The knights all began looking around. “Which woman?” Andrew asked.
Josephine craned her neck, searching the crowd. “I do not see her,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment. “Etienne, collect all of the women into a group. I must find this woman and my pendant.”
Etienne saluted smartly, bellowing orders as he walked away. Josephine brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, her features etched with concern as she watched her men carry out her orders. They were not gentle with the gypsy women by any means; any attempt to resist was met by a sharp slap or a pull of the hair. But that wasn’t Josephine’s concern – she wanted her necklace back and she had yet to see the woman who took it.
Finally, Josephine saw Albert dragging the scraggly young woman from back beyond the wagons. She fought the tall, gangly knight like a wildcat until the usually gentle man grabbed her hair and pulled her the rest of the way to where the women were now corralled. As they came nearer, recognition dawned.
“That is the one!” Josephine cried out. “The woman with Albert!”
She dashed towards Albert, and Andrew and Sully followed close behind. Fearlessly, Josephine went up to the rebellious young woman.
“Where is the necklace you stole from me?” she demanded.
The woman gave her a defiant smile, evidently not caring or too stupid to realize that Josephine commanded the army around her.
“I lost it,” she said lazily.
Josephine stepped closer to the woman. “Listen well, you cocky little wench,” she hissed. “I intend to find that necklace, so do yourself a favor and tell me where it is. Do you see these men around you? They are at my command. I can have them punish you a thousand ways, so much so that you will wish you were dead. Now, where is my necklace?”
The woman looked to the stone-like faces of the men that surrounded her. She did not doubt Josephine’s words for a moment, but she was proud and was not going to let Josephine belittle her in front of her own people. More important than anything, she was not going to lose their respect.
“I do not remember where I put it,” she shrugged, still blatantly defiant.
Josephine flamed. She took a step towards the woman and raised her hands in a most threatening fashion, but Andrew stopped her.
“Wait,” he said. “If you will allow me to reason with her, my lady.”
Josephine, clenching and unclenching her fists, turned her back to the woman. She was so angry that she was genuinely afraid of what she might do. Andrew went to the gypsy girl.
“Rise,” he told her.
The wench glanced over to the other women smugly, as she drew herself up. Her eyes twinkled seductively at Andrew, knowing she had more of a chance conning him than she did Josephine. She would pull out all of her tricks for this big man.
Josephine forced herself to turn and watch what Andrew was doing, but she didn’t like what she saw. The woman stretched and posed like a cat in heat, and she found herself angrier, but on a different level. She was appalled to discover that she didn’t like this woman’s attention on Andrew in the least and she didn’t like it at all that he seemed to be eating it up. He wasn’t even trying to retrieve her pendant. Instead, he was trading flirtatious looks with the whore.
“Do you know where I can find Lady Josephine’s pendant?” he asked politely.
She stuck out her small chest and batted her lashes at him. “Now, I might,” she said. “If you were to ask me properly, I might.”
He reached up a hand towards her and Josephine was about to burst with anger and outrage. Her breathing became fast and hard, and Sully put a hand on her forearm to quiet her. He wanted to see what Andrew was going to do. But what happened wasn’t what he or Josephine expected.
Andrew smiled at the gypsy woman, who was nearly salivating as she waited for his touch. Then, quick as a flash, Andrew grabbed the front of the woman’s blouse. With a loud, ripping noise, she was laid open to the waist and her tunic was in tatters. Her tiny breasts were exposed to the world and she yelled in surprise, trying to cover herself up, as women around her loudly voiced their protest. But the Torridon soldiers were even louder – voicing their approval.
Whistles and cheers filled the air as Josephine watched the woman’s humiliation, stunned by what Andrew had done. Next to her, Sully couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. He was coming to like The Red Fury, just a little. The man had ballocks, that was for certain.
Andrew heard all of the revelry, but his eyes were fixed on the woman in front of him. And he was no longer smiling. As she yelped and tried to cover herself up, Andrew pulled at the bodice, pulling it off of one side of her body as she struggled. He spun her around as if looking for something.
“It does not seem to be there,” he said. “I wonder where else it could be?”
The men screamed with laughter. In spite of herself, Josephine felt like giggling as well. The woman was utterly humiliated. Had Josephine not been so angry, she might have felt a twinge of pity. But she silently applauded Andrew for his application of persuasion without the use of physical force. That haughty, nasty woman was bound to give in faster this way.
“Has your memory returned?” Andrew was asking politely. “Or shall I help it along?”
The woman’s eyes were black with fury. With a toss of her black hair, she sneered at Andrew.
“Bastard!” she spat. “How dare you…”
She never finished her sentence, for Andrew reached out and grasped a corner of her dirty skirt and yanked so hard, she was tripped by the force of it. She was screaming, the men were laughing, and Josephine watched in amused shock as Andrew reached down for the bottom of her shift. Although she was kicking him with all of her might, he barely felt it.
“Very well!” the woman screamed. “Very well, very well! Stop and I shall give it to you!”
Instantly, Andrew stopped pawing at her, crossing his arms expectantly. Huffing and puffing with humiliation, the gypsy woman rose as carefully as she could without exposing anything. She looked at Andrew, verging on tears. Then she covered her breasts with one arm and thrust her hand into a hidden pocket in her underskirts. With her grubby fingers, she drew forth the dazzling pendant.
Josephine charged forward and snatched the necklace before Andrew had a chance to accept it. Then it was Josephine who smiled smugly at the gypsy woman. She was twitching and her mouth was working as she formed her final reply. Her hand itched to slap the little witch, but she didn’t. She had her necklace and that was all that mattered in the end.
“Thank you,” she said through clenched teeth. Then she spun around, walked away, and spoke to no one in particular. “I want them off my land and out of my sight.”
Andrew smiled sweetly at the shaking, filthy woman before turning to follow Josephine. He had expected her to flatten the woman, but he admired her for showing restraint. Given her passionate nature and her fondness of punching, he was proud of her for showing some hard-fought self-control. As he stood there and watched her walk away, Sully interrupted his observations.
“Take Lady Josephine back to Torridon, if you would,” he said. “I shall make sure the woods are cleared.”
“As you wish,” Andrew said. “I’ll need a horse.”
Sully waved a hand at Etienne, whistling loudly between his teeth. “Your destrier!”
Etienne motioned to the soldier holding his steed, and the man immediately brought the muscular animal to Andrew. Without even using the stirrups, Andrew swung himself onto the horse and, using his massive thighs to guide the animal, he moved it in Josephine’s direction.
But Josephine wasn’t paying any attention. She’d had enough excitement for one day and her emotions had the better of her. Moreover, she was trying to put her necklace back on, but it was broken. She felt a great deal of sadness at that. She was distracted from the broken chain by a big horse next to her and she looked up to see Andrew riding Etienne’s blond beast. She held up the necklace.
“It is broken,” she said glumly.
He held out his hand. “May I?”
She gave it to him and he examined it carefully. She stared at his actions, alternately watching his face and watching his hands as they moved nimbly over the beads.
“See here,” he held up the broken ends of the necklace. “The silver latch only needs to be repaired. I can do it when we get back to Torridon.”
Her face brightened. “You can?”
“Indeed.”
She smiled gratefully. “You are a man of many talents, then,” she said. “Not only do you fight battles, but you repair jewelry as well.”
He grinned. “It is nothing, really,” he said. “It just needs to be bent back into place. It is simple.”
Josephine watched his face, the strong lines of it, and she began to feel the pangs of attraction again. Something about the man had attracted her from the beginning, whether or not she realized it, and it was something that was only growing stronger with time.
Thank you,” she said after a moment. “That would mean a great deal to me.”
Andrew carefully put the necklace in the money pouch on his belt. When he looked at her again, he couldn’t help but notice she was still looking at him with that same soft expression. Gratitude, he thought. Or… something more…
Perhaps that was only wishful thinking.
“It would be my pleasure,” he said after a moment. “Now, Lady Josephine, may I escort you safely back to Torridon?”
Josephine returned his smile; she couldn’t help it. She placed her hand in his extended one and he lifted her effortlessly onto the saddle in front of him. When she was settled, he squeezed the horse lightly and it walked forth into the forest, heading back to the main road. As the animal picked its way among the bushes and roots, Josephine was very conscious of Andrew’s own warm body next to her.
It was making her heart race simply to experience it.
The forest around her was alive with sunlight flickering and birds singing, and she smiled as a pair of butterflies flitted past her. But among it all, she found herself enjoying Andrew’s presence. It was comforting, warm, and settling. She felt safe, as she’d never felt in her life. Her eyes wandered up to the trees as the horse carried them into the shadows, and the situation they left behind them seemed like a wild, impossible nightmare.
Andrew had been magnificent from the start. From the moment he appeared and had charmed his way into the camp, he had been in complete control, only Josephine had been too blind to see it. She had been too wrapped up in her own outrage to even realize that he had come to help her. That had taken some time, but she was still sorry she’d doubted him. Like a white knight, he’d ridden to her rescue.
How he even found her didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that she had trusted him completely. And she had; well, after a few minutes, anyway, once she figured out that he’d come to help her. Then, her own foolishness nearly destroyed his attempt, but he’d salvaged it beautifully. And the fight; it had been like watching him at practice as he’d neatly dispatched the men thrown at him. To watch him made her chest feel strangely tight, her heart beating in her ears. It had been pure excitement to watch him, despite her concerns and the danger involved.
Josephine would admit, only to herself, that she was glad The Red Fury had come to Torridon. He was proving to be a welcome diversion for her during a period that seemed to hold little more than anxiety and grief.
As Josephine was lost to her thoughts, Andrew had some thoughts of his own with her sweet body pressed up against him. He, too, was secretly glad he had come to Torridon. Much to his surprise, he had never felt more at peace than he did now, riding through the peaceful trees with a gentle breeze lifting tendrils of Josephine’s hair until they tickled his cheek. Feeling her against him was the most natural thing in the world. He had never in his life experienced such things, not with any woman he’d ever known. Somehow, Josephine was different. He found himself looking forward to the coming months and wondered what they would bring.
He wondered how long he could stretch out his contract at Torridon.
“How did you find me?” Josephine’s question distracted him from his thoughts.
He had to focus on what she was asking, so carried away with daydreams he was. “We followed you as you chased after the two children,” he said. “Why were you chasing them, anyway?”
She felt foolish explaining what had started the ruckus. “They had stolen two pies from the kitchen,” she said. “I did not want them to get away with it, so I ran after them. I would have caught them, too, had I not been hindered by this heavy surcote.”
He smiled, looking off into the forest. “All of that was over two pies?” he asked. “I thought they had stolen the family jewels, at least. Or, mayhap coin. Or, Christ, the gold plate straight from the great hall, or even….”
“I get the point,” she said, cutting him off with a grin and turning in the saddle to look at him. He was dangerously close, closer than was advisable. Her initial intent had been to throw him a threatening look, but the expression faded at the sight of his beautiful face and she found she had to turn away quickly lest he see the blush in her cheeks.
But, in retrospect, the taking of two pies by two hungry children did seem like a foolish reason for endangering her life and the lives of those sworn to protect her. She began to feel a little sheepish and decided to change the subject.
“Where were you born, Andrew?” she asked.
Andrew hadn’t missed the flush of her cheeks when she’d turned away. He thought he might have had a bit of a flush in his, as well, mostly because the last time she’d been that close to him, he kissed her with a hunger he’d never before experienced. He’d like to try it again sometime, hoping she wouldn’t bite him again if he did.
Somehow, he suspected she wouldn’t.
“England,” he said after a moment.
“Where in England?”
“Near Haldane,” he said distantly.
She should have picked up on his reluctant tone, but she didn’t. To her, it was a pleasant conversation. To Andrew, it was dredging up things he worked hard to forget.
“Haldane is almost in Scotland,” she said. “You look decidedly more Scot, with your red hair. You do not speak like a Scots.”
“Nor do you.”
Josephine shrugged. “My mother thought we should not speak so,” she said. “She had an English lady-in-waiting who taught my brother and sister and me how to speak the way of the English. And what of you? Why do you not speak like a Scots?”
“Because I fostered in England.”
“But you seem to be based in Scotland,” she said. “Do you have kin in Scotland?”
His soft brown eyes darkened. “My mother was Scots, but she spent most of her time in England,” he said. “My father was English. That is how they met.”
“Oh?” Josephine’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “Where was your mother from?”
“Dumfries.”
“But she lives in England now?” Josephine asked, oblivious to the dark memories she was awakening in him. “What says she to your mercenary way of life?”
He didn’t want to talk about things that upset him, and he most certainly didn’t want to talk about his mother. Her chatter was growing annoying now. “I have not seen my mother in several years,” he said, his tone bordering on sharp. “I believe she is dead and we will not speak on her.”
Josephine was a little shocked at his tone and shut her mouth immediately. Realizing he’d sounded harsh, Andrew was sorry he had snapped at her. He’d not meant to, but where his mother was concerned, he was emotionally unsteady. The last time he’d seen his mother, she was being dragged to her chambers by his brother’s men and there wasn’t a damned thing Andrew could do to help her. Nay, he didn’t want to talk about the gentle Elaine.
The woman he’d failed those years ago.
The destrier came out of the woods and stomped up onto the dirt road, heading towards Torridon, which loomed in the distance. For a ride that had been so pleasant a short time ago, Josephine could not wait for it to end. She had no idea why Andrew was angry with her and, in truth, he had hurt her feelings with his sharp tone. But why did she care if he was angry? Whatever she’d said to anger him, she didn’t care any longer. She wanted to get back to Torridon, off of the horse, and away from the moody Andrew d’Vant.
So much for the warm attraction she felt for him. It had been a fleeting thing.
They rode to the castle in silence and entered the outer bailey. People were milling about, hurrying to their destinations, and a flock of loose chickens squawked in panic as the horse walked through them. Somewhere overhead, she heard a knight bellowing orders up on the wall.
A sense of relief and familiarity flooded into her as they crossed into the inner bailey. She was glad to be home. But her anger and confusion had not abated and, immediately upon crossing the threshold into the inner bailey, Josephine pulled herself from Andrew’s grip and slid to the ground. Without so much as a word, she marched off across the mud and straight into the keep.
Andrew watched her ramrod-straight back as she mounted the stairs and disappeared into the bowels of the castle. He knew he had hurt her feelings, but he could not apologize without including an explanation and he wasn’t ready to do that yet. His past, his secrets… they were for him and him alone. They weren’t for him to share with someone he’d only known a few days.
Even if he was wildly attracted to her.
As Andrew turned the destrier towards the stables, a smile played on his lips. All was not lost; he would see Josephine at the evening meal and, mayhap, he could make amends without apologizing for his shortness with her. Women had always told him that he possessed uncanny charm. If that were truly so, then it would come in handy tonight, as the thought of Josephine angry with him strangely disturbed him. He didn’t want her to be angry with him.
Tonight, he would do what he could to change that.