A Highwayman's Honor: (A Highland Highwayman Novella #1) Read online

  Still, a carriage or horse ride would jostle the arm. No need to cause her unnecessary pain. She could stay with him for a few days, regain some strength, and then he’d get her back home. Her presence at his hideaway was a danger to him. Of course, he wanted her gone as soon as possible.

  He kept repeating that to himself as he walked back to the cottage. Maybe by the time he entered and came face to face with her again he’d believe it.

  * * *

  Elizabet watched her highwayman carefully rewrap her arm. Though still tender and bruised, it was well on its way to healing. There was no reason she couldn’t travel. Yet still the man made no mention of taking her home. Far from finding this disturbing, Elizabet found herself enjoying her little adventure.

  The small cottage where she was being kept was a far cry from her family’s estates or the marbled halls of the palace rooms in which they stayed when at court. But strangely, she didn’t miss the comforts of home all that much. In fact, it was a relief to get away from the relentless pressure to always behave a certain way. After all, a slovenly, unattractive girl will never catch herself a wealthy husband. According to her mother, that was her sole purpose in life. Therefore, most of her waking moments were put to obtaining the best match possible.

  But with Jack, she could be herself. The man was insanely difficult to coax into speech. He’d listen to her chatter away about whatever nonsense entered her head but he didn’t reciprocate much. Not that she expected him to. He still wore his mask when he was near her. He naturally wouldn’t spill all his secrets. But despite that, she still felt she could say what she wanted without worrying about being too forward or bold. After all, a highwayman wasn’t likely to be horrified if she told him church services bored her to tears or that she thought the king’s mistress, the Countess of Castlemaine, was actually quite lovely and entertaining to be around. Elizabet’s mother played nice when at court but did nothing but spew judgment and condemnation in private.

  Personally, Elizabet applauded the countess. She was wealthy, powerful, and she and the king seemed quite happy together—when he wasn’t with his wife or another mistress. Still, she had the run of court, acted in any way she pleased, and had the king himself showering her with whatever she wished. There were worse ways to live.

  Had she said those things to her mother, she’d have been slapped and sent to her room without supper. At best. But Jack merely laughed and agreed with her.

  And then there were the moments when he’d tend to her wound. She’d worn nothing but a chemise around him in the days she’d been there. He’d informed her that her gown was in the armoire, but as she mostly stayed in bed or sat in a chair by the window, she’d seen no need to do more than wrap a quilt about her for modesty. Though he’d already seen more than the quilt would cover anyway.

  Elizabet knew the time drew near when she’d have to leave. She probably should have already returned home. She didn’t ask to leave though. She was dangerously close to wanting to stay forever.

  She came to look forward to the hour when he’d redress her shoulder. She’d never known anyone so large to be so gentle. From the way his fingers skimmed across her skin to how he carefully wrapped the linen around her arm. Each brush of his hand sending a riot of sensations rushing through her body. She wasn’t sure if only she was affected by those moments. But she swore he lingered far longer than necessary. And she knew she was more than well enough to travel. He should have taken her home days before. She did worry about her parents. Surely even they were concerned for her. But she would be going home soon enough.

  She’d been with him a week when he announced that he would be leaving for a few hours and wouldn’t be returning until well after dark. The first twinge of unease flickered through her. Odd that she felt safer with an outlaw than on her own.

  “You will be perfectly safe here,” he assured her for the fifth time. “There is no one near and the cottage is well hidden in the woods. Just in case, I’ll leave you with this.” He handed her a pistol and quickly demonstrated how to use it.

  “You can bar the door after I leave and if anyone tries to enter while I’m gone, you shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Elizabet nodded numbly, handling the weapon carefully. She still had her knife under the pillow on the bed. And again it struck her how strange it was that Jack trusted her enough to hand her a loaded weapon.

  “Aren’t you afraid I’ll use this on you?” she asked him, casually pointing it in his direction.

  He frowned and calmly grasped her hand, pointing the gun at the wall. “Never point it at someone unless you intend to shoot. It’s far too easy to accidentally fire.”

  She lowered her eyes, her cheeks burning at the rebuke. He was right. It was not a plaything and she shouldn’t treat it like one. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He took her chin between his fingers and lifted her face back to his. “I have a surprise for you.”

  Her eyes widened and he grinned at her before spinning to hurry out the door. A moment later, he rolled in a huge wooden tub and situated it near the fireplace. “I thought you might like to bathe since you’ll be alone for the evening.”

  Elizabet clasped her hands together. “Oh, Jack! That would be heavenly. Where did you get this?”

  “The village cooper. He made a similar tub for making beer. So I had him make one for me.”

  “To bathe in?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  She shrugged. “Not something many would do.”

  “Well, I pride myself in not being one of the many,” he said with a grin. “There’s a rain barrel just outside this window,” he said, showing her. The barrel sat just outside, close enough she could scoop bucketfuls of water through the window just by leaning out.

  “I’ll help you get the tub filled before I go. I already have some water going on the fire.”

  She’d wondered why he’d put a cauldron full of water to boil earlier. He carefully removed it and emptied it into the tub, then refilled it and set it to boil. By the time the second cauldron of water was ready, the first had cooled a bit. Several buckets of cold water from the rain barrel and the water was perfect. Hot enough to turn her skin a delightful pink without scalding her.

  He set a third cauldron on the fire. “So you can heat yourself back up when the water cools,” he said with a wink.

  Elizabet’s face flamed hot again and she turned away. Jack chuckled. “Come, my lady. Bar the door behind me. Do not open for anyone but me, understand?”

  She nodded and followed him. Her stomach tightened with anxiety when he stepped outside into the night.

  He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, lingering much longer than courtesy demanded. Long enough that the lazy circles he drew against her skin with his thumb sent tingles running through her. Long enough she began to want his lips on parts other than her hand.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said.

  “I’ll be waiting.” The words left her mouth before she’d fully decided to say them.

  Her cheeks burned and the eyes behind his mask widened a bit but he said nothing. Merely smiled that half smile that was beginning to make her stomach tighten for entirely different reasons and turned to fetch his horse from the shed.

  She closed the door and dropped the bar across it.

  Elizabet sighed deeply, trying to keep her worry from overwhelming her. She’d never been on her own before, except for in her own home in her own room. Even then, the house had been full of servants. Her personal maid, Lucy, slept in a small adjoining room hers. All she’d ever had to do was call out and someone would have immediately come running to her aid. Being on her own, in the middle of a dark forest, with brigands on the loose, was enough to strike fear into even the stoutest heart.

  Then again, one of those brigands was her own highwayman. Who’d left her with a pistol and a dagger to defend herself with if necessary. He’d also left her with a glorious tub large enough she could slump down and actually s
oak herself in the hot water. That would be sure to take her mind off whatever was going on in the woods beyond her door.

  Jack had said he’d only be gone a short time. If she was going to enjoy her bath, she’d better get to it.

  She stripped her chemise, deciding to bring it into the tub with her to give it a good washing. It should dry quickly enough by the fire if she was quick about it. Of course, she’d never washed her own clothing before so she wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. She’d seen the palace laundresses with great vats of boiling clothes. With that in mind, she shoved her chemise into the cauldron over the fire.

  She stepped into the steaming bath and sank down. If she slumped down far enough the water just covered her breasts.

  Elizabet let the heat slowly seep into her and tried to clear her mind. The water stung against her wound, but only a little. Jack had cut the stitches from it earlier that day. She’d have a small scar. That should distress her, but it didn’t. The scar would always remind her of her time with Jack in their cottage.

  That the thought of that brought her comfort was concerning to say the least. She sighed and tried not to think of anything at all. Instead, she closed her eyes and pictured a tall, strong man with dark brooding eyes. And smiled.

  Chapter Four

  A loud banging against the cottage door brought Elizabet up out of the tepid water with a gasp. She must have dozed off because her skin, once pink from the heat, was now pruned and pebbled with cold.

  Someone banged on the door again and she stumbled from the tub. She grabbed the quilt from the bed and the pistol from the chair near the tub.

  “Elizabet! Open the door! It’s Jack! Quickly!”

  She gasped again, her heart hammering in her chest. She’d barely lifted the bar when the door flew open and Jack ran in looking like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

  “Soldiers are coming,” he said, his chest heaving with the force of his breath. “I ran into them scouting near here. They gave chase…”

  “You shouldn’t be here!” she said. “They’ll find you. Why did you come back?” The fear that rushed through Elizabet frightened her with its intensity. Most of it centered on the man before her. He was in danger.

  “You have to go,” she said.

  He cupped her cheek, drawing her close. “I couldn’t leave you here alone. If they came here…” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Not all of the king’s men are honorable. I couldn’t leave.”

  She covered his hand with her own. “Because you promised to protect me.”

  “Always.” Jack kissed the top of her head and she shivered against him.

  His hands smoothed down over her back and he seemed to notice her state of undress for the first time. His mouth quirked up into a smile and he opened his mouth to say something but before he could hoof beats echoed through the small clearing where the cottage sat. Men’s voices shouted.

  “They’re here,” Jack said.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “Open in the name of the king!”

  Elizabet looked around wildly. There was nowhere for him to hide save for under the bed or in the armoire. Two places so obvious they’d be immediately searched.

  “Open up or we’ll break the door in!”

  “Into the water,” Elizabet said, running to the armoire to throw open the doors. Then she hurried to the bed, twitching the blankets aside so the floor was clearly visible.

  She turned to Jack who stood beside the tub, frowning in confusion.

  “Get in the water,” she said again. “There’s nowhere else. I’ll get rid of them.”

  Something large and heavy crashed against the door and the wood splintered, but held. For the moment.

  “Do it!” she said, giving him a shove. “All right!” she said in the direction of the door. “I’ll open. Just a moment.”

  She snatched his hat from his head and frantically searched for a place to hide it. Finally, she shoved it behind a pillow on the bed and hoped that she could keep the soldiers from entering the room too far. Jack jumped into the tub, took a deep breath, and ducked beneath the water. He’d be seen if they got too close but as long as they stayed near the door, he couldn’t be seen over the lip of the tub.

  She hurried to the door, still clutching the gun in her hand as she tried to keep a grip on the quilt covering her. She threw aside the bar and hurried back, just in time to miss getting crushed by the door being thrown open. The soldier who had been barreling his way inside stopped short when he saw her. Elizabet knew she didn’t look a threat. A small woman, huddling inside a quilt would be no match for a soldier.

  He glared at her. “We’re looking for an outlaw, a highwayman. He was seen riding this way.”

  “Well, as you can see, he’s not here,” she said, hoping Jack could hold his breath for a few more moments. She needed to get the soldier out.

  “Says you. I need to search to be sure he’s not hiding anywhere.”

  He made a move to enter farther but Elizabet countered his movement, keeping her body blocking as much view of the tub as she could.

  “There is nowhere to hide, sir, as you can plainly see. It is a small cottage. Just the one room. The armoire is the only possible place and you can see from where you stand that he is not in there.”

  The solider looked around, obviously wanting to argue but not able to.

  “Under the bed…”

  “Bend down. You can see no one is here.”

  The soldier did as she said, straightening with a frown.

  “There,” she said, her heart thumping in her chest. She had to get him out, now, before Jack had to surface. Or drown. “You can see no one is here. Get out. Now.”

  The soldier’s attention turned to her and his look of anger turned to one of a much more dangerous nature as he noticed what Elizabet was wearing. Or rather, wasn’t wearing. He moved a little nearer.

  She had no intention of letting him get even an inch closer to her. She brought the pistol out from beneath the quilt. “Get. Out. Now.”

  The solider scoffed. “Oh come now. You wouldn’t shoot me, would you? I just want to get to know you a little better, that’s all. A pretty little thing like you, all alone in the big, dark woods? No man here to protect you.”

  He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with evil thoughts. Elizabet didn’t wait to see what he intended to do. She dropped the quilt. The soldier stopped in his tracks, his attention riveted to her naked body. Elizabet raised the gun and shot the floorboards near his feet. The wood splintered, sending a shard up and into the man’s leg. He yelped and grabbed his leg, stumbling back out into the yard just as Jack heaved out of the water, sucking in a lungful of air.

  “Elizabet!”

  “I’m okay,” she said, her hands shaking. She dropped to her knees to grab the quilt and quickly wrapped it around herself again. More shouts and footsteps.

  “Back down,” she ordered. “Quickly!”

  Jack looked as though she were forcing him to chew molten steel, but he took another deep breath and dropped back below the water. And not a moment too soon. A man who looked like he was the one in charge entered with two other soldiers. Elizabet backed up as far as she could without allowing them too far into the room.

  The commander glared at her. “What’s happened here? Did you just shoot a member of His Majesty’s army?” he demanded.

  Elizabet swallowed her anger. She needed them to leave, quickly, and arguing wouldn’t make that happen. Men such as this liked their women weak and afraid. It wouldn’t be too difficult for her to let that show, since her legs were barely holding her up as it was.

  “He attacked me,” she said. The quilt slipped a bit lower, exposing a shoulder and she clutched it tighter.

  The commander’s eyes narrowed and she let him see her trembling lip, her shaking hands. When he took a step closer she let a terrified gasp escape her lips and brandished her dagger.

  He held out his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you,
you silly girl. We’ll trouble you no further tonight. But this can’t go unanswered for. You may have been provoked but we can’t have people going about shooting at officers. What is your name?”

  “Mary Smith,” she said, giving him the most common name she could think of with her wits rattled as they were by sheer panic.

  He seemed about to speak again before his attention was drawn back to the moaning man in the courtyard. He sighed. “As you were obviously provoked, I will let the incident go. This time. I would suggest in the future calling for help before firing your weapon.”

  Elizabet nodded and curtsied and the commander motioned his men out. The second they were over the threshold, Elizabet rushed forward, slammed the door, and dropped the bar back in place. When she heard hoof beats riding away from the clearing, she allowed herself to slump against the door with relief.

  Jack rose from the water, dripping wet and desperate for air. She stayed put, dragging air into her own tortured lungs. She didn’t think she’d breathed the entire time the men were there, terrified that at any moment they’d discover Jack.

  That fear struck her as odd. She should have been running into their arms, not hiding the man who’d taken her. Or fighting the desire to run into his arms instead.

  * * *

  Jack stood in the tub and wrung himself out as best he could. His mind raced. He had, for all intents and purposes, kidnapped her. For good reason, yes. But he wouldn’t have been surprised had she thrown open the doors and welcomed them in. Instead…

  “You didn’t betray me,” he said.

  “No,” she murmured.

  “Why?” He stepped from the tub and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it in a soaking heap on the floor. The mask he left in place, though the wet leather chafed against his skin.