Rose of Hope (70 page)

His gaze raked her from head to toe, before coming to rest on her breasts. Her back straightened. How dare he examine her with such boldness.

Dark, shaggy hair hung to his broad shoulders with a single braid on either side of his face. Black stubble lined his cheeks and strong chin. The opening of his tan tunic revealed dark, curling chest hair, and the grey trews hugging his thighs disappeared inside his worn boots. A black and blue plaid draped his shoulder and rested under his leather belt. He crossed his hands on the saddle and raised his brows, as if he expected an explanation.

Cameron swallowed hard. Could this be Robert Graham? Why was he here? Given his outrageous stunt with Da’s bull, what more could he want? The Grahams had severely wounded Fergus over that beast. Her ire rose, and she looked down her nose at the men. She would do her best to regain her composure; however, it wasn’t easy to remain dignified while stuck in a tree.

His gaze dropped to the fallen ladder. A grin spread across his handsome face. To her horror, he threw a leg over his saddle and slid to the ground. The twinkle in his eyes clearly displayed his delight in her predicament.

Her back straightened. “What do ye want? To cause more mayhem like yer dim-witted stunt of stealing my da’s bull? Do ye know what harm ye did? Do ye even care?”

One of the men scoffed. “Mayhem? Did ye hear that, Robert?”

So he
was
Robert Graham.

He advanced toward her. “Aye, I heard. But yer da was the clever fool who caused the bedlam, mistress. He had no reason to strap on his sword.”

Her breathing quickened, and her nostrils flared. “Da tried to recover his property. Ye were the ones who instigated the attack.”

He shook his head. “I see ye think like the rest of yer clan. So it’s fine for yer da to smear pig-slop over our new smokehouse and not suffer the consequences?”

“Consequences? That is what ye call yer senseless act?”

“Well, aren’t ye the bold one?” the other man behind Robert jeered.

Robert paused, his hands firmly affixed to his hips. “Do ye think it wise to insult and berate someone who can help ye out of that tree?”

He did have a point. “I don’t need yer help. I can get down whenever I want.”

“Can ye now?” The man peered at the fallen ladder, the basket of scattered elder leaves and then back at her.

She lifted her head a notch higher, bobbing slightly with confidence she didn’t feel. “When I’m ready to be down.”

He propped the ladder against the tree.

Her hand clasped her chest. “I’m fine, truly.”

He climbed the first couple of rungs, and the corners of his mouth tugged up, dimples pressing into his rugged face. “Aye, ye are that, but ye need my help, lass.”

What should she do? She did need help, but that rickety ladder would not hold both of them. She glimpsed the bemused faces of the other men and turned her attention back on Robert. “Now that ye’ve propped the ladder back up, I’ll get down on my own.”

He stepped to the ground. “By all means, please come down.”

Cameron wished he would take his men and leave, but evidently, he intended to stay until she was out of the accursed tree.

“Verra well.” She turned, eased into the tree nook and felt for the ladder with her toes. She held on to the trunk and put her weight on the top rung. But when she stepped to the next, it started to topple. She lost her balance. Her arms flailed, frantically grasping at the rough bark. Before she plummeted to the knotted roots, the man caught her.

“Oh!” She gasped and gripped his powerful forearms.

He gently set her on the ground, and she turned to face him. A bit dazed, she ran trembling fingers down the front of her gown. His hands lingered at her waist, and when he didn’t step back, she looked up to find him smiling.

“I believe ye owe me yer thanks, Mistress Cameron.”

At his mention of her name, she searched his face. “How do ye know me?”

He chuckled, his deep voice rumbling throughout his thick chest. “I make it my business to know all the bonnie lasses in the area.”

The men behind him laughed.

Her stomach tightened. She was no beauty. He obviously mocked her—in front of his men. Prickly heat tingled across her cheeks.

“I’ll catch up to ye,” Robert called over his shoulder.

“Oh, aye. Once ye’ve taken care of business,” one man asserted.

“Important business to be sure,” the other bantered.

The men chuckled as they nudged their mounts, then trotted down the path and out of sight.

Robert’s gaze lingered on her mouth before he raised it to her eyes. “I believe it’s customary to thank someone when they’ve helped ye.”

Cameron cleared her throat. “Aye, I do thank ye.”

He studied her lips again. “I had something more in mind. Ye know ye’d still be stuck in that tree if I hadn’t come along, so ye owe me.”

His warm breath caressed her face. He bent and placed his mouth on hers. His arms pulled her close, his muscular frame molding her body against his. Stubble scratched her skin, and she inhaled his male scent of leather, and aye, of horse.

She should be horrified at his advances. What was she thinking, allowing a Graham to kiss her so…so wickedly and deliciously? She should push him away and demand he step back, but somehow, she loathed the idea. Indeed, she reveled in the feel of his hard body pressed against hers.

Robert broke the kiss, and she tried to compose herself. He placed his hand on the side of her face and paused, gazing into her eyes. “I just returned from visiting yer da.”

Cameron straightened. “Ye talked to Da?”

Robert searched her eyes, his thumb caressing her cheek. “We have sealed a truce.”

Her eyes widened. “A truce?”

“Aye.” He lifted her hand to his mouth. “And I look forward to getting to know my
neighbors
much better.”

He kissed her palm, and his whiskers scraped her skin. Tingles shot through her belly, and her breath caught at his dark mesmerizing eyes. They stared at each other through stilted silence. Finally, he stepped back and bowed. “Good day, m’lady.”

He leapt onto his horse. The large black animal pawed at the ground while Robert continued to stare at her. The appearance of his dimples and the sparkle in his eyes caused her stomach to flutter. He turned his horse in the direction of Graham Castle and galloped through the woods.

Her hands trembled. She pressed her fingers to her lips and stepped away from the tree, searching the path he took, but no one was in sight. Placing her hand on her chest, she fought to steady her nerves. Her legs shook, but she turned to her basket and gathered the spilt elder flowers.

My first kiss.

The desire lighting his eyes had both thrilled and horrified her.

He was a Graham—
Robert
Graham, no less.

A man who stole her father’s bull and because of his reckless act, Fergus might lose the use of his arm. She should not feel such exhilaration over her father’s adversary. But, no…he was no longer their enemy. Robert said they’d sealed a truce.

Her heart soared with happiness over an accord she had prayed for and envisioned in her dreams.

The sun shone directly overhead. It was time to return home. Muire would be waiting. She secured the ladder onto the horse and picked up her basket. With thoughts of her first kiss running through her mind, she led the animal down the path toward home.

~~~

Robert’s pulse hammered in his ears. What was wrong with him? They had only shared a kiss. Something about the MacDougall lass intrigued him. He grinned. Her soft curves and plump lips stirred his blood, not to mention his cock. The strain against the front of his trews was a painful reminder of her full breasts crushed against his chest. How he longed to cup their fullness and taste their sweetness. He groaned and shifted from his uncomfortable position, his thoughts not helping the situation.

Robert squeezed his legs around Eton, spurring him forward to catch Lachlan and Kendrick, who road ahead.

Lachlan smirked. “Ye didn’t waste time getting the lass in yer arms.”

“Och, I couldn’t leave her stranded in the tree.”

“Nay, I suppose not. And of course ye wanted a reward for yer services,” Kendrick asserted.

Robert grinned at his friends. “A token of my Lady’s favor.”

“Oh, aye. To be sure,” Lachlan agreed.

What was she doing in the tree? Her spilt basket had been full of elder bark and flowers. She didn’t appear a fanciful lass collecting fragrant flowers. More like willful and deliberate, berating him from her perch. Nay, MacDougall had boasted of Cameron’s healing ways. Most certainly, her habit of climbing trees aided the rendering of her treatments.

She held him responsible for stealing her da’s bull. He wanted to clear his name, tell her he had nothing to do with the raid. Hell, he wasn’t even around when his father’s men took the beast.

Why did he wish her to know he wanted no part of this feud? Did he desire her approval? The idea was absurd. Not since his former-betrothed had he coveted a lass’s acceptance. Upon finding Jacqueline in another man’s arms, Robert learned his lesson, no longer caring what women thought of him. He pleased them well enough and never lacked for bedmates, but he didn’t lose sleep over them nor waste time on a lass’s frivolous emotions. Important matters—the English soldiers and Scotland’s fight for freedom—demanded his attention. King Edward encroached on their land, getting closer to Graham Castle every day.

So why did he want Cameron’s approval? He couldn’t understand his caring what the lass thought of him. The idea was ridiculous and…disturbing. Well, all that aside, he definitely wanted to see her again.

This truce may prove to have advantages he had not yet considered.

~~~

Robert walked into Isobel’s room at dawn to find his two sisters asleep in front of the hearth. A log rolled in the grate, sending sparks flitting up the chimney. Nichola cradled their baby sister in her lap, firelight dancing across them.

When he gently picked up Isobel, Nichola woke and rubbed her eyes. Robert laid the little lass on her bed. She yawned and turned onto her side as he drew a blanket over her shoulder. Relief poured through him. She had survived another bout.

Nichola rubbed her arms. “’Tis my fault she had another breathing spell. I shouldn’t have taken her out-of-doors. I only wanted her to have a wee bit of fun.”

He stroked Isobel’s dark curls. “I understand, but we have to be more careful. She’s fragile.”

Isobel had stolen his heart the day she was born. Could it really be five years ago already? Because of her illness, she had not experienced the joy of running and playing, or having friends. The only life she knew was living inside her bedchamber walls.

He would give anything to find a cure, enabling her to live like other children. Da had brought in healers from around the country to treat her, but she continued to wheeze and cough, oftentimes gasping for air. At the healers’ insistence, heavy draperies covered the windows, and stifling oppressive air hung heavy in the room. Did the healers know what they were doing?

Nothing they had suggested helped Isobel.

He clasped Nichola’s shoulder. “I must start the drills. Ye will let me know if she worsens?”

His sister nodded, and her disheveled blonde hair fell over her shoulder, her blue eyes sad. “Aye, I’ll be with her.”

Robert strode across the room, down the stairs and into the bailey where sounds of clashing steel broke the early morning quiet. He marched across the line, inspecting his men’s progress. Even his old captain, Duncan, and Robert’s young brother joined in the exercises.

At ten years old, Androu had trained with Duncan for three years now and someday would become a fine warrior. His brother struggled to manage his sword, but what he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in attitude.

Robert approached the two sparring. “Well done, Androu. Watch for yer opening. Lunge in to take yer opponent out.”

Androu parried blow for blow, but soon grew tired. Robert held up a hand and signaled Duncan to stop.

“Yer technique improves every day,” Robert said.

Androu proudly straightened his shoulders.

Robert ruffled his brother’s dark hair. “Ye deserve a day off.”

Androu’s eyes widened. “Duncan promised to take me hunting. Can we go tomorrow?”

How Robert would enjoy a carefree day. “I’m ready for a good hunt, too. Mayhap I’ll join ye.”

“Aye!” Androu jumped up and down while holding both arms in the air.

~~~

The next afternoon, Kendrick raced into Robert’s solar. “Laird, the horses Duncan and Androu were riding came in without them.”

Without them? Heart pounding, Robert swallowed the panic rising in his chest. He raced from the room, through the keep into the bailey with Kendrick following. To his left, Michael pumped the sharpening stone as Lachlan held his sword’s blade against the grinding rock, the noise loud and grating. Several others stood by, joking and laughing while awaiting their turn.

“Lachlan, Michael, I need yer help.”

Michael stood as Lachlan and the others turned to Robert. “What is it?” Lachlan asked.

“Duncan and Androu are missing,” Robert shouted. “Brian, David, mount up. Kendrick, send runners to the clan families and have the men scour the area.”

They ran to their mounts. Robert grabbed Duncan’s horse and sprang onto his back. He dug his heels into the animal’s sides, and the men thundered out of the bailey and into the woods.

Duncan and Androu had gone on a simple hunt. Had something happened to
both
of them? How he wished Laird McCarthy’s untimely visit this morning had not prevented him from accompanying the two. If there had been an accident, he would have been there to help, perhaps prevent it.

His chest constricted. Androu had followed in Robert’s footsteps, tagging along behind, mimicking and trying hard to become a man. He prayed they would find him alive and unharmed.

Robert called for his brother and Duncan repeatedly, but received no response. He had no idea which way the two went. Frantic, he raked his fingers through his hair.