“Nay, only two. Do ye wish to be one of those two?” When Pleasance stumbled up to him, he nudged her toward the door. “Get in the wagon. Can ye manage a team?”
“Aye, but not expertly.”
“No matter. Get in the wagon, take the reins, and be ready. Hold, I need a moment’s assistance.” Slowly he backed closer to the door. “Throw your weapons toward me,” he told the soldiers. “Carefully.”
After a moment’s hesitation the soldiers obeyed. Keeping an eye on them, Tearlach ordered Pleasance to put the weapons in a sack. He was relieved to see that, though she was trembling badly and looked ready to faint, she set down the blankets and obeyed his command with admirable haste. The moment she set the filled sack at his side, he ordered her to grab the muskets and put them into the wagon. The weight of the weapons forced her to make two trips. Tearlach was beginning to worry that the guards outside would rouse before they could leave when he heard two soft but ominous thuds. When Pleasance returned to his side he chanced a fleeting glance her way.
“The guards were stirring. They are still again,” she said, hurriedly collecting the blankets.
“Good lass. To the wagon.” He heard her soft retreating footsteps and picked up the sack holding the soldiers’ small arms.
“That there’s the property of the Crown. It be agin the law to steal it,” cried one of the soldiers.
Backing out of the door, Tearlach smiled coldly. “Oh, I dinnae intend to steal it. I will toss it out along the road somewheres. Ye whoresons can look for it.” Even as he bolted for the wagon, Tearlach yelled, “Move, Pleasance.”
She snapped the reins. The team was just leaping forward when Tearlach hurled himself into the back of the wagon. She chanced one quick look over her shoulder. Tearlach kept his musket aimed at the soldiers, now stumbling over the unconscious guards at the door. She then concentrated on keeping the wagon team moving as fast as possible without risking a spill.
When they had gone a few miles Tearlach began to toss out the soldiers’ weapons one by one. They would have to halt to collect them. Once they had gotten all of them back, he hoped they would decide not to continue the chase. If nothing else, they would waste so much time picking up the scattered weapons they would begin to worry about having deserted their post.
To Pleasance, it seemed like hours before Tearlach ordered her to slow the team and climbed forward to take the reins from her stiff fingers. She bit back a groan as she released the reins to him, all too painfully aware of just how great a strain it had been—not something she wished to reveal to Tearlach.
Trying to ignore the ache now ripping through her arms, shoulders, and back, she turned her attention to tidying her disordered clothing.
Nausea welled up inside of her, but she fought it down. There was no time to indulge in weakness. Somehow she would have to put the assault out of her mind, would have to cling to the knowledge that the attack upon her had ultimately failed.
The sun had nearly set by the time Tearlach drew the wagon to a halt and pulled it off the road as far as the thickening trees of the surrounding forest would allow. They had made only the briefest of stops at midday, mostly for the benefit of the horses. Pleasance watched as he worked to erase the tracks of the wagon back to the road and several yards down it with some brush.
They worked silently to set up camp. Tearlach doubted the soldiers were following them, but decided against a fire just in case. Their meal was a simple one of johnnycake and pemmican again.
As he laid out the blankets that constituted their pallet he covertly watched Pleasance. Her silence was troubling. Although she had said that the soldiers had not accomplished the rape, they had nearly done so. Too nearly. He had seen the scars left on a woman’s heart, mind, and soul by the brutal taking of her body. He had seen it in his own mother. He did not wish to see it in Pleasance.
The depth of concern he felt for her made him frown. The wench was arousing far too much emotion in him, he thought crossly with a sigh.
“Come, Pleasance, ye need to rest.”
Even as she moved to curl up on the makeshift pallet, she murmured, “As do you.”
He covered her with a blanket. “I will get some. Enough to last me until we reach a safer place.”
When he crawled in beside her she tensed, then immediately felt guilty. He had done her no physical harm. He did not deserve her fear. She moved to get more comfortable and could not suppress a groan at the wrenching ache in her shoulders.
Tearlach immediately reached for her. “They did hurt ye.”
The touch of his hand, the concern in his rich voice, seriously undermined her efforts to be strong. She did not want to give in to weakness. Neither did she want to seek comfort from him. He touched her feelings in a way that could only prove dangerous in the year to come. Keeping some distance from him would be essential.
“Nay, not truly. A few bruises, ’tis all. I fear it was driving the team that brought a real pain or two.”
“Ah, of course.”
She frowned as he suddenly left her side. Peering through the darkness, she tried to see what he was doing, but could only make out his shape by the wagon. She tried to hide her interest by quickly turning her back to him when he returned to their pallet.
“Loosen your bodice.”
“What?”
“I have a salve that will help that ache, but I need to rub it into your shoulders and back.”
“Not a horse liniment? They are the foulest-smelling things. I think I would prefer to endure the pain.”
“Fear not. No unbearable stench shall touch your pampered skin. Aye, ’tis horse liniment in a manner, but ’tis gently scented. A wife of a friend of mine prepared the salve, and I purchase a pot or two whenever I can. Come, loosen your bodice.”
Her embarrassment eased by the cover of darkness, slowly she obeyed him. As she did so she puzzled over his reference to her “pampered skin” and the tone he had used to speak those words. She was no Letitia, given to milk baths and other such nonsense, yet he apparently thought she was. How he could have come to such a conclusion puzzled her.
“Turn onto your stomach.”
When she did as he asked, he brushed aside her hair and began to massage the liniment into her back. He fought to ignore how it felt to touch her slim back, the faint light of a half-moon making it glow a soft ivory. Although he still had every intention of feeding the hungers she instilled in him, he knew this night was not the time to begin his seduction. He did not want her thinking him one of a kind with the soldiers they had fled.
“I should have thought of this. Should have realized such honest hard work was not something ye would be accustomed to. Weel, that shall soon change. Ere the year is out ye will come to understand that there is more required of a woman than kenning how to pour tea or play callous, flirtatious games with some poor fool.” He bit his tongue and silently cursed his blunder, hoping she did not guess that he considered himself one of those poor fools.
At first his words stirred Pleasance’s anger, but his final words brought realization. He did think her of the same ilk as Letitia. Despite the month he had spent courting Letitia, the fact that she, Pleasance, had rejected him obviously still pinched. Clearly his pride had been badly stung. She quickly told herself not to be fooled into thinking there was anything more than his pride involved.
The words required to forcefully defend herself were on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back. He was clearly still angry and in no state of mind to listen to reason. She was also not sure what she could say to ease that anger. How could she explain that she had hurt him because her parents had told her to, because they had ordered her to cast him aside so that Letitia could have him? That would make her look like a fool, and she did not want Tearlach to know how spinelessly she had acted. She would have