The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(59)

She blinked in surprise, staring at him. “I …”

She didn’t know. She was acting on impulse and feeling, not on thought. He should relish the moment of putting lead on that silvery tongue of hers, but instead he felt sad. Unbearably sad. It was impossible, and when she thought about it, she would see it, too.

“I thought so,” he said softly, before turning and walking away.

He hoped for the last time.

Thirteen

It wasn’t often that Janet’s tongue tied, but Ewen’s question had forced her to ask herself a question she hadn’t wanted to think about: what did she want from him?

The truth was, she didn’t know.

Marriage wasn’t an option. Assuming Robert could be persuaded to marry her to an ordinary warrior—even one whom he seemed to value—that certainly wasn’t what she wanted.

Was it?

Instead of sleeping as she should, she stared at the dark stone wall of the cave for most of the day, pondering that question. Janet had thought she had her life all planned out. She had thought she was meant to be alone. After the deaths of two fiancés, the loss of her family, and with what had happened with Cailin and her sister Mary, it seemed prudent to avoid entanglements. Frankly, she’d never wanted to marry and was content in the belief that God must agree with her. She would become a nun and continue on as she’d been doing: helping the king for as long as he needed her.

It was certainly preferable to being treated like a serf or a child. Not taken seriously. Coddled and “protected” until she couldn’t breathe. Robert would do his best to protect her, but there was always a risk.

But Ewen confused her and made her wonder whether there was something more than the future she had planned. A nun shouldn’t think about—dream about—a man and his kiss for months. And a nun certainly shouldn’t find her heart pounding in breathless anticipation for more.

Maybe that was it. Maybe “more” was what she wanted from him. Marriage might not hold any interest for her, but it was clear—at least with him—that what went along with it did.

She wanted him the way a woman wants a man, and no matter what he tried to tell her, he wanted her, too. What was holding him back?

She didn’t know, but she intended to find out.

But good gracious, had she really kissed him? Her cheeks grew hot all over again. She supposed she might have. She’d thought he’d pulled her toward him, but maybe she’d just fallen into his lap? There was something different about Ewen. Something that made her act with an unusual boldness—even for her.

If she wanted “more,” she suspected it was going to take a lot more boldness on her part to batter down that stone wall. Her mouth curved. As the daughter of an earl, and a woman who was ready to spend the rest of her life as a nun, she really shouldn’t be looking forward to it as much as she was.

It seemed as though Janet had just closed her eyes when she was being jostled awake with her brother-in-law staring down at her. He was really quite handsome, in an almost dazzling, hurt-the-eyes way. Perhaps even more so than Mary’s first husband had been, and the Earl of Atholl was said to have been one of the most handsome men in the kingdom. She hoped that Kenneth Sutherland was a better husband.

But Mary had always been more pragmatic than Janet. She’d never set unrealistic expectations, and she accepted her fate with more grace than Janet could ever manage.

“It’s almost dark, my lady.” Seeing that she was about to correct him, he amended his speech. “Janet. We need to get back on the road.”

She forced herself not to groan. The prospect of another long night on horseback, after a short and uncomfortable few hours of sleep, did not sound promising. But knowing she had no choice, she dragged herself out of her makeshift bed, which consisted of Eoin’s borrowed plaid and the leather bag that held her clothes as a pillow, grateful once again for the lad’s clothing. It really was much more comfortable and easier to move around without layers of cumbersome skirts in her way. Perhaps one day women would be able to wear such clothes without comment or sensation? Ha! And maybe someday men would fly like birds.

She looked around the cave. “Where is Ewen?” she asked her brother-in-law.

The last time she’d seen him was after he’d returned from the loch and exchanged a few words with Magnus. She’d assumed he’d returned while she was asleep.

“Making sure we aren’t being followed.”

“All day?”

Sir Kenneth shrugged. “He and MacLean had watch. You needn’t worry. I’m sure he had a few hours of sleep.”

Her cheeks heated. “I wasn’t worried, I—”

A commotion outside the cave prevented her from finishing her thought. Ewen was back, and from the urgent tones of his hushed voice, and the clipped exchange with Magnus, she suspected something was wrong. “What is it?”

Her brother-in-law shook his head. “I don’t know, but be ready.”

He went to join the others who were gathered at the mouth of the cave, while Janet hastily gathered her belongings and tucked her braids back under her cap. She longed to run down to the river and wash, but instead she did the best she could with the water she had in a pouch, washing her face and using a cloth and a mixture of wine, salt, and mint to clean her teeth.

The men were still talking in hushed tones when she approached a few minutes later. She glanced beyond them into the dusky, tree-covered hillside. The first flakes of the long awaited snow had just started to fall.