with which he’d uttered the sweet nothings—the surprisingly natural way Fiona had felt pressed against him—had been nothing less than astonishing tohim. He had been affected, and powerfully so. It had to be his long-suppressed desires surging to the fore, he decided. There could be no other answer for it—though he wasn’t at all sure that he liked being tempted into weakness again that way, any better than he liked having to admit to it. And she was a courtesan, he reminded himself. A woman who had bedded hundreds of men. She wasn’t the kind of woman he should yearn for, no matter how alluring he found her to be.
Aye, it seemed that his playing at being Fiona’s husband was going to be dangerous in more ways than one. For it would require a special care, not only in keeping Will in the dark about the truth of their relationship, as was needed if they were to fulfill their plans in seeking Elizabeth, but also in ways he’d never considered before. There might well be something else to all of this, something potent enough to test his innermost moral strength and his vows against illicit temptation…
Something, God help him, that he sensed could push him to the breaking point—and perhaps beyond.
Chapter 7
W ill led them the remaining distance to the outlaws’ settlement in less than an hour’s time. The man who’d been wounded during the feigned attack on Braedan rode close behind him, with Fiona and Braedan following. The remaining men, only slightly injured, had been sent to retrieve Fiona’s trunks and herb pots from the inn, a boon for which she was immensely grateful. She only hoped they would hurry in their return—and that Will had chosen a spot for his latest settlement near a stream, as had always been his habit in the past—for she couldn’t wait to bathe and exchange the dusty, sticky bliaud she was wearing for one of the fresh gowns in her trunk.
She deliberately avoided looking at Braedan as they plodded along behind Will, not trusting herself to meet his gaze yet. She remembered how difficult it had been to keep her feelings hidden to him back in the glen, before she’d excused herself to get their horses; she’d been completely unprepared for the sensations he had sent coursing through her when he’d jumped so heartily into acting out their pretended marriage. But worse still than the feigned physical closeness had been the gently murmured phrases and affectionate glances. He’d led her astray with those unexpected endearments, and she had yet to completely regain her sense of calm and control.
Of course, it didn’t seem that she’d have much to fret about in that area again anytime soon; Braedan appeared to be in a black mood now, with his shoulders tight and his face rigid. He’d looked so since they’d rode from the glen, and though she had no idea what had sent him into such a dark temper, she was nonetheless grateful, as it likely meant he’d be keeping those sweet words of his to himself for now.
Her thoughts were curtailed in the next moment as their group emerged from the thick, cool protection of the primeval forest into a less densely wooded area. A half score enormous oaks of the kind Will favored for his people’s shelter ringed the clearing; they served his purpose well, with hollowed trunks wider than two horses standing tail to nose. They were perfect for keeping everyone concealed by nature in a way that would have been impossible had they actually constructed a village of huts. Much of the other foliage had been trimmed back to make a pleasant encampment for his band of outlaws, though the whole effect was still one that allowed for successful hiding from the law.
As they rode fully into the area, Fiona saw that a few cook fires were scattered about, burnt to coals that were then piled beneath steaming pots, while a larger fire atthe center of the area glowed under a rudimentary spit, roasting a large, sizzling piece of venison that had been undoubtedly
Aye, it seemed that his playing at being Fiona’s husband was going to be dangerous in more ways than one. For it would require a special care, not only in keeping Will in the dark about the truth of their relationship, as was needed if they were to fulfill their plans in seeking Elizabeth, but also in ways he’d never considered before. There might well be something else to all of this, something potent enough to test his innermost moral strength and his vows against illicit temptation…
Something, God help him, that he sensed could push him to the breaking point—and perhaps beyond.
Chapter 7
W ill led them the remaining distance to the outlaws’ settlement in less than an hour’s time. The man who’d been wounded during the feigned attack on Braedan rode close behind him, with Fiona and Braedan following. The remaining men, only slightly injured, had been sent to retrieve Fiona’s trunks and herb pots from the inn, a boon for which she was immensely grateful. She only hoped they would hurry in their return—and that Will had chosen a spot for his latest settlement near a stream, as had always been his habit in the past—for she couldn’t wait to bathe and exchange the dusty, sticky bliaud she was wearing for one of the fresh gowns in her trunk.
She deliberately avoided looking at Braedan as they plodded along behind Will, not trusting herself to meet his gaze yet. She remembered how difficult it had been to keep her feelings hidden to him back in the glen, before she’d excused herself to get their horses; she’d been completely unprepared for the sensations he had sent coursing through her when he’d jumped so heartily into acting out their pretended marriage. But worse still than the feigned physical closeness had been the gently murmured phrases and affectionate glances. He’d led her astray with those unexpected endearments, and she had yet to completely regain her sense of calm and control.
Of course, it didn’t seem that she’d have much to fret about in that area again anytime soon; Braedan appeared to be in a black mood now, with his shoulders tight and his face rigid. He’d looked so since they’d rode from the glen, and though she had no idea what had sent him into such a dark temper, she was nonetheless grateful, as it likely meant he’d be keeping those sweet words of his to himself for now.
Her thoughts were curtailed in the next moment as their group emerged from the thick, cool protection of the primeval forest into a less densely wooded area. A half score enormous oaks of the kind Will favored for his people’s shelter ringed the clearing; they served his purpose well, with hollowed trunks wider than two horses standing tail to nose. They were perfect for keeping everyone concealed by nature in a way that would have been impossible had they actually constructed a village of huts. Much of the other foliage had been trimmed back to make a pleasant encampment for his band of outlaws, though the whole effect was still one that allowed for successful hiding from the law.
As they rode fully into the area, Fiona saw that a few cook fires were scattered about, burnt to coals that were then piled beneath steaming pots, while a larger fire atthe center of the area glowed under a rudimentary spit, roasting a large, sizzling piece of venison that had been undoubtedly
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