to squash any such hopes. Every time, she had a cruel reminder that she couldn’t have what most other women wanted—or already had. She couldn’t have a man to herself, love, a family.
This war was her love, this country her husband, and her family were her men and every other rebel fighting for freedom. When a man was laird, he had a wife to breed, and he could go about his duties, protecting his line. But Jenny…she was certain that she wouldn’t be able to rule without fear that her husband would try to take her place.
So she didn’t say anything, only watched him put distance between them. Five feet. Ten. Knew he was waiting for her to call him back. Felt the slump of his shoulders in her heart rather than seeing him in the dark. And her soul matched that disappointment.
With a great sigh, she worked to focus her attention on their surroundings and not twenty feet in front of her where Toran sat with his back against a tree, masculine even in sleep.
Jenny stared at the trees, their black sharp angles swaying in the breeze. Shadows danced, and as hard as she focused, the dark shadows always formed into menacing shapes that left her nerves rattled. Every bounce of darkness was Boyd, every low skulking shadow a wolf ready to pounce.
She forced herself to breathe deeply, to shove aside all the night terrors of her imagination.
The truth was no one knew they were here. They’d not been followed, else they would have been attacked by now. While prowling outlaws and devilish redcoats might be skulking about, it was doubtful they’d run into them now. Even if a patrol passed on the road just beyond their camp, they wouldn’t see them. The horses slept quietly, and the men didn’t snore, sleeping too lightly to make any noise.
Jenny leaned against the tree that Toran had vacated and started ticking off the mental list she’d made of their journey and how she’d present herself and her men to Prince Charles.
As the hours passed, her confidence grew. And when the darkest of twilight melted into a predawn gray haze, the men started to stir, each of them slowly waking and taking care of his business some distance away.
When they returned to camp, she reported that nothing had occurred and then went to make use of a bush herself before they took off again.
Toran was watching her with clear interest in his eyes when she returned, a subtle curl to his lips that made her palms sweaty.
Unbidden, a thought went through her head that had her blushing. When this war is over, oh the things I’ll do with him…
Eighteen
They made it halfway through the day before they spied any flashes of red in the forest. Jenny caught sight of them first, but perhaps only a half second before Toran was reaching for her reins and they all stopped short.
Without any sightings in hours, they’d gone onto the road to ride harder. And that was when the flash of red was visible through the trees where the road curved sharply to the right.
“Ballocks,” Dirk cursed under his breath.
The redcoats did not seem to have noticed them yet, but it would only be a matter of seconds before they rounded the curve and saw them in the center of the dirt-packed path or heard them clomping through the forest.
Jenny was dressed in her rebel garb, easier for riding, and they were all fully armed and bedraggled looking after nearly two days on the road. Whatever lie they were to come up with would be questioned, as the five of them looked every bit up to the mischief the dragoons would assume they were getting into. And they’d be right.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Jenny hefted a leg over the side of her horse and flung herself facedown across Toran’s lap. “I’m your wee brother and ye’re taking me home after finding me out carousing with my pals. These are your cousins, and our ma is really worried about me after I got stuck in the wrong crowd.”
“What the bloody—” Toran started to say.
But there was no time to talk. The dragoons rounded the bend and caught sight of the group, pulling up short, shouting and reaching for their weapons.
“Ho, there!” they called. “Halt.”
“Ye heard her?” Toran asked softly of the men, and they grunted in affirmation.
They did not halt, their horses moving slowly down the road.