Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends #1.5)(10)

Robert transferred the reins to one hand and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her tighter into his protective warmth. His voice softened to just above a whisper. “Susanna, what did your father do to you?”

She stiffened, her spine going rigid.

Robert’s chin dropped, touching the top of her head. “If it distresses you, doona speak of it.”

His gentle tone calmed her. Too many unexplainable things coursed through her mind. All the men in her clan, and all those visitors she’d met, followed the same proper decorum and wielded the same charms as her father did—in public. Her mother had warned her that all men harbored the same beast inside.

They all wear pretty masks that come off in private, Susanna.

With only her mother’s advice to guide her, she kept silent. For all she knew, the dominant stranger who held her had eaten at her father’s table. He might even share her father’s beliefs. Men were the enemy. And even though Robert showed her unwarranted kindness, once he discovered half-English blood ran through her veins, his compassionate feelings toward her would surely harden.

“I doona wish to,” she stated.

Robert tightened both of his upper arms around her shoulders for a few brief seconds then relaxed them. The surprising action comforted her heart, like a hug from Mama. But her roiling mind rapidly transformed his embrace into just another cage. She knew all too well that one didn’t need bound wrists to feel imprisoned.

She forced her mind to calm, silencing questions she’d rather not think of, let alone answer. A long hour stretched into two before they reached the edge of the vast section of forest.

Another broad, open field spanned ahead of them. The dark ribbon of a year-round stream flowed to their left, despite encroaching snow and ice. Duncan and Seamus dismounted and led the four horses under their care to the rippling water.

Robert swung to the ground and reached his arms up, slightly lifting his eyebrows. Unaware of a safer means to dismount with her legs tangled in her dress, she leaned toward him, placing her hands on his shoulders, and their gazes locked as he lowered her down.

Her breath caught under the unexpected power of his gaze. It seemed each time he looked into her eyes, he saw deeper inside of her. She forced herself to look away, needing to find the means to breathe normally again.

The jagged snowcapped mountains off in the distant northwest had remained the same as they’d journeyed north and east—the same direction she’d been headed. She glanced back to the south and saw dark storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

“Why did we stop?” she asked. No shelter appeared within sight, and she grew restless with pent-up anxiety. The clear weather they’d had throughout the day afforded her pursuers the same effortless travel Robert and his small company benefited from.

“We stop because we wait. While we wait, we hunt,” he said.

Robert tied his horse to an old oak snag alongside the rest of the horses. Seamus and Duncan each unfastened a bow and quiver from their saddle packs.

“Wait for what?” she asked, stepping closer to them.

A biting wind gust whipped her cloak open. She grasped the edges, hugging the material around her. Robert moved to shield her, buffeting her from the cold. He lifted a hand to her cheek, feathering fingertips across her skin in a caress.

The storm clouds that pressed into her view of the sky fell short of the intensity in Robert’s dark eyes as he gazed down at her. Strands of his black hair whipped across his face an instant before the swirling wind blew them back again.

“You’ll see with your own eyes. All things reveal themselves in time, lass,” he said.

Stunned by the kindness in his voice, she blinked up at a man who reminded her of Mama. Wise. Caring.

She narrowed her eyes, unable to believe a man could have the same qualities as Mama, a woman who’d become a saint in her eyes, the one person who’d been subjected to unimaginable torment and had endured it all for her. Mama had wished to spare Susanna the same fate and, in protection, warned her about men. All men.

Robert turned back to his men. Duncan stood in a relaxed stance, facing his commander. Seamus pulled each arrow from his quiver, examining the steel points on the tips.

“We’ll stay here with the horses,” Robert said. “You circle around to the other end of the stand of trees. If you flush any beasts this way, we’ll be ready.”

Duncan squinted at Susanna. “We? This woman had a blade to your throat yesterday. Now you hunt together?”

Expressionless, Robert glanced at Susanna. “Do you plan to attack me, lass?”

She opened her hands and held out cold-pinked palms. “With what weapon?”

All three men stared at her for a long moment. Seamus broke the silence with sudden laughter. “Come, Duncan. We’ll kill a prize stag long before it has a chance to run this way. Robert’s sure to have his hands full.”

Robert gave a heavy sigh. He glared at the two men as they jogged left into thicker foliage and disappeared.

“What did they mean when they said that you’ll have your hands full?” she asked.

He leveled a deadpan look at her. She waited for him to respond. After a moment, his expression softened, and he let out another sigh, shaking his head. “Doona concern yourself with the teasin’ of men, Susanna.”

She scowled. She didn’t care what men thought, but she had become their captive by their authority. No stranger to imprisonment, she learned everything possible from men who forced her to abide by their will—knowledge enabled escape.