Simon Grant? She’d sooner die than return to him. And if she went to the Strathspey Inn, there was still the distinct possibility that Simon would find her there too.
But in reality she knew that flight would be a near impossible feat given her injuries. Then there was the problem of her lack of suitable clothes. Her gown was ruined and she doubted she’d be able to put it back on again. And wearing a hunting plaid which was proscribed unless you were in the Watch was not conducive to remaining inconspicuous. She’d be noticed and apprehended on sight by any dragoons or Black Watch in the area.
Jessie could still hear the rain lashing the hunting lodge’s windows and the occasional flash of lightning lit the room. It was certainly not a night to be outside, especially considering her current state. Any attempt to leave here was doomed to failure. She had no real way of escape and no safe place to go. She’d never felt so alone in all her life. Tears spilled out from under her eyelids. For a long time she watched the fire dying in the grate, until at last she succumbed to exhaustion.
* * *
When Robert entered the bedchamber again sometime later, it was to discover that Jessie was fast asleep. By the light of the candle he held, he could see she had been crying; he could detect the faint glimmer of half dried tears on her cheeks.
Although he couldn’t say for certain, his gut told him that the girl had been listening when he’d been talking to Tobias earlier. What a fool he’d been to let his guard down. When he’d approached Jessie, he hadn’t failed to notice the tension in every line of her face, her erratic breathing. She’d been terrified. And now she probably knew he’d seen her with Simon, knew he was contemplating what to do next. That he was a wanted man. But did she yet know he was Robert Grant, the Jacobite?
The fire had died to a low reddish glow. He placed the candle on the mantel and after throwing another pine log into the grate, absently watched the sparks fly up the chimney. Behind him, Jessie stirred slightly. He turned to look at her again. The sight of her in sleep made him ache in a way he didn’t like. She was dangerous this woman, dangerous beyond imagining.
When he’d put her to bed earlier and she’d betrayed her nervousness by biting her fulsome bottom lip, it had taken every ounce of restraint he possessed to stop himself from seizing her then and there and kissing her senseless. The lustful male in him wanted to wake her now and join her in the bed, to make her want him as much as his body seemed to want her. And yet he also wanted to lie beside her and cradle her in his arms, fall asleep beside her with his face buried in her luxurious hair. To take succour from all this beautiful Highland lass had to offer. Even now the scent of warm, sleepy female beckoned to him like a siren’s song. But he knew he would do neither of those things tonight with Jessie. She belonged to someone else—his brother.
It suddenly occurred to Robert that his urge to possess Jessie sprang from an entirely selfish need to some extent—that perhaps she could somehow fill the gaping black void within him. To help him forget his fears and ever-present guilt by getting lost in mindless pleasure.
But then again, perhaps he wanted to make her his, simply because he couldn’t stand the idea of her being with Simon. He now recognised the previously indefinable emotion that he felt whenever he thought of Jessie with his half-brother as jealousy. Jealousy, pure and simple. Jealousy that twisted in his gut like a knife.
Frustrated by his conflicting thoughts and his mad, aching desire for a woman he couldn’t have, he sighed heavily then threw himself into the armchair before the fire. He would stay by Jessie’s bedside tonight. Even though he knew it was unlikely that she would run, given her injuries and the wild weather, he could not take that chance. Regardless of what she did or didn’t know about
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