Part 7 (1/2)
”You quite took me by surprise, I promise you.” He sat on a rock, crossed his ankles and smiled at her. ”Here I was, contemplating how many more trout I might catch, when a rider comes barreling through the forest with enough noise to frighten every fish for miles.” He didn't add that her wild approach had had him drawing his sword. Instead, he buffed his nails on his coat.
”If I had known you would be here,” she said stiffly, ”I would have ridden another way.”
”No doubt. Then I would have missed the delightful sight of you in breeches.”
With a sound of disgust, she whirled toward her horse.
”Such a fast retreat, Serena. One might think you were... afraid.”
She spun toward him again, eyes flas.h.i.+ng, and planted her feet. ”I'm not afraid of you.”
Magnificent. There was no other way to describe her as she stood, her body braced as though she held a sword in her hand, her eyes molten, her hair tumbling like firelight down her back. She had ridden through the forest with a speed too great for safety and with a skill few men could have matched. However much she aggravated him, Brigham could not deny her courage or her style.
Neither could he deny that the way she looked in breeches made him uncomfortable. However ill-fitting, they showed the enticing length of slim legs and the slender curve of waist and hip. With the homespun s.h.i.+rt tucked and cinched, he could see the gentle sweep of b.r.e.a.s.t.s that even now rose and fell in agitation.
”Perhaps you should be afraid,” he murmured, as much to himself as to her. ”As I find myself plagued with all manner of dishonorable intentions.”
Her stomach quivered at that, but she held her ground. ”You don't worry me, Lord Ashburn. I've dispatched better men than you.”
”So I imagine.” He rose and saw what he had wanted to see-the quick, and just as quickly controlled, flash of unease in her eyes. ”However, you have yet to deal with me, Serena. I doubt you'll manage to box my ears.”
She would have backed up a step if pride hadn't rooted her where she stood. ”I'll do worse if you touch me again.”
”Will you?” Why was it that the more the woman spit at him, the more he wanted her? ”I've already apologized for what happened in the stables.”
”The stables?” She lifted a brow, determined not to give an inch. ”I fear whatever that might have been, my lord, was so unimportant as to be already forgotten.”
”Cat,” he said mildly, though not without admiration. ”If you continue to sharpen your claws on me, you're bound to break them.”
”I'll risk it.”
”Then let me refresh your memory.” He stepped closer. ”You were as hot as I, as pleasured as I. It wasn't a swooning girl I held in my arms but a woman, ripe for loving, d.a.m.ned anxious for it”
”How dare you?” The words came out in a sputter. ”No gentleman would speak to me so.” ”Perhaps not. But no lady wears breeches.”
That stung. It was true, she was not a lady, would never be one, though she wished constantly to find the way within her, to please her mother.
”Whatever I choose to wear, I won't have you insult me.”
”Won't you? By G.o.d, that's rich. You've done nothing but insult me since you first clapped eyes on me.” Goaded past caution, he grabbed her arm. ”Do you think because you're female I should tolerate your sneering comments about myself, my lineage, my nationality? d.a.m.n me if you can have it both ways, Serena. You dress like a man, talk like a man, then choose to hide behind your petticoats when it suits you.”
”I hide behind nothing.” She tossed back her head and glared at him.
Through the bare branches of the ash trees the sunlight poured, turning her hair to molten gold. ”If I insult you, it's no more than you deserve.
You may have charmed my family, but not me.”
”Charming you,” he said between his teeth, ”is the least of my concerns.”
”Aye, your concern lies with the fall of your lace and the s.h.i.+ne of your boots. You ride into my home with your talk of war and justice, but you do nothing.”
”What I do, what I mean to do, is no business of yours.”
”You sleep under my roof, eat at my table. Where were you when the English came to build their forts, to take our men off to their prisons and their gallows?”
”I can't change history, Serena.”
”You can change nothing, nothing that has gone before, nothing that is yet to come.” His fingers tightened on her arm. ”I won't discuss my plans with you, but I will tell you this-when the time comes, a change will be made.”
”To benefit whom?”
He yanked her toward him. ”Which means?”
”What does the fate of Scotland mean to you or any English n.o.bleman?
You came from England on a whim and can return as easily, depending on the way the wind blows.”
His face paled with rage. ”This time, my dear, you go too far.”
”I'll say what I choose.” She tried to wrench away but found her arm caught in viselike fingers. ”You give me no reason why you align yourself with our cause, why you choose to raise your sword. Therefore I am free to think what I like.”
”You may think as you choose, but words require payment.”
She hadn't seen him truly angry before. She hadn't known his eyes could blaze or that his mouth could harden until it seemed as though his face were carved from granite. She nearly yelped when his fingers dug still more deeply into the tender flesh of her arm.
”What will you do,” she managed, coolly enough, ”run me through?”
”As you're unarmed, that pleasure is denied me. But I have a mind to throttle you.” Whether the gesture was made in earnest or merely to frighten, Serena couldn't be sure. He lifted his free hand and circled her throat. His fingers pressed, not gently but not quite hard enough to cut off her air, and his eyes stayed on hers, dark and hard.
”You have a very slender neck, Serena,” he said silkily. ”Very white, very easily snapped.” For a moment she froze, as a hare does when a hawk makes its killing dive. Her hand fluttered helplessly at her side, and her eyes widened.
Her breath, when she managed to draw it in, was shallow.
Because her reaction was no more or less than what he had looked for, Brigham smiled. The wench needed to be taught her manners, and it pleased him very much to be her instructor. Then it was he who sucked in his breath as her boot caught him hard on the s.h.i.+n.
His grip relaxed as he stumbled back, swearing. Deciding against a.s.sessing the damage, Serena spun on her heels and dashed for her horse. Still swearing, he caught her in three strides.
He lifted her off the ground, his arms locked firmly around her waist, while she kicked and cursed. She didn't fight like a woman, with shrieks and scratches, but with hands knotted into fits and muttered oaths. He discovered she weighed next to nothing and could wriggle like a snake.
”Hold still, d.a.m.n you. You'll pay for that.”
”Let go of me!” She struggled and tossed her weight backward, hoping to unbalance him. ”I'll kill you if I get the chance.”
”Well I believe it,” he said bitterly. Her struggles broke his grip, and his hand moved up and over her breast. The contact shocked both of them, and the combat took on a new desperation. ”Be still, d.a.m.n it” Out of breath and patience, he tried to find a purchase that was less arousing.