The Rebel Wears Plaid - Eliza Knight Page 0,34

bit out of place scowled at her. She instantly didn’t like him. He struck her as one of those fellows who saw himself worlds higher than anyone else.

“Did ye think I’d deserted ye, the cause?”

She narrowed her gaze. “I believe verra much ye would and that ye did.”

His jaw tightened. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest. He was going to have to do a whole hell of a lot better than that.

“This is my brother Camdyn and my sister Isla.” He nodded toward the man. “My cousin Simon.”

She studied the two young ones again, seeing now what she’d idly noted before and making sense of it. Though their clothes were dusty from travel, the fabric was of high quality. Camdyn wore trews and a frock coat and Isla a simple arisaid. Their leather shoes appeared sturdy and well made. Simon also wore clothes of good quality, but it was evident he didn’t care so much for his appearance, somehow coming off as bedraggled in his expensive boots.

Toran’s gaze roved over her, his brow rising, and she realized then she was dressed in a proper gown. He’d yet to see her in anything other than her trews and jacket. This was not her favorite gown, but she knew it flattered her figure. Made of soft green dyed wool, the whale-boned bodice accentuated her curves and pushed her breasts up, the fleshy parts thankfully hidden by a soft woven shawl made by a Mackintosh weaver.

When he didn’t say anything further, Jenny dismissed the two men hovering protectively behind her. To Mac, she narrowed her gaze. “Go and get Dirk.”

With her guards out of sight, Toran’s shoulders seemed to ease some. “As I said, I’d not desert ye, Mistress.” He whispered the title. “And I’ve brought ye three new recruits.”

“I dinna recruit children. Nor sons of traitors.”

Simon stepped forward, offense written all over his face. “My father is not a traitor. He has allied with the Jacobites, and has offered funding for your outfit.” He pulled a bag of coin from inside his sporran and handed it to her.

Jenny didn’t take it. “A bribe?”

Simon frowned harder. “Beggars canna be choosers.”

Jenny scoffed. “I’m not a beggar, and I’d be just as happy if the lot of ye went back where ye came from.”

Simon stiffened, and she reached for her hip, taking note that her sword was missing.

It was Toran who stepped between them in an attempt to defuse the situation. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

“Listen, I know ye wish to never see me again, especially not with more relations.” He sighed, eyes sincere as he locked his gaze on hers and said with all seriousness, “My brother and sister need protection, and my cousin, he is not only their protector but a staunch Jacobite who wishes to serve ye.”

Simon started to bluster, but Toran tapped him rather aggressively on his chest to get him to quiet.

She straightened, hugging herself tighter at the chest. “And ye brought them to me? Why?” She was unable to keep the surprise from her voice. “With a bag of coin like that Simon could start his own regiment.”

Toran seemed unfazed by her disbelief. “Aye. He could, but he’s a Fraser and son of the Fox.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And ye think because ye tricked me before I’ll fall for it again?”

“Nay. I dinna. But we’ve a mutual enemy—Captain Boyd. Isla and Camdyn are innocent in all this. Boyd willna hesitate to punish them to get to me. He is hunting me. He will hunt them too. Ye know it, lass,” he said softly. The tone of his voice had her doubling back to his gaze, searching.

That was enough of an explanation. Bile rose in Jenny’s throat as she recalled Boyd’s breath on her neck, his hands roving over her body, and her eyes shifted to Isla. Had Toran seen Boyd’s assault? Boyd would go after Camdyn and Isla without batting a lash. And the things he would do she didn’t dare imagine.

“And”—he glanced back at his cousin—“where they go, Simon goes.”

“And what of ye?” she asked.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not a caregiver of bairns, Toran, nor their governess.”

This made the trio behind Toran glower all the more. And they had every right. The lad looked ready to burst into manhood, and the lass was only a few years away from lads clamoring for her hand. She was gorgeous, with hair the color of autumn leaves and eyes the same

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