Chapter Four

      Rob could not say how he knew for certain they were being followed, but he did know. He could feel it in his bones. If Ranald MacInness did not come himself, he would send others, just as he had hired men to rid him of Mairi’s father.

      Rob knew that if anyone had deprived him of this woman, he would go to the very ends of the earth to retrieve her and would never trust the task to underlings. He hoped Ranald would risk himself. That would save a journey back to the Highlands to get rid of him later.

      To pass the time as they traveled, Rob forced himself to think in words instead of images. Though it never came naturally for him to do so, he had made it a regular habit since he had learned to read. Early on he’d discovered that it provided good practice for forming speech, getting words in the proper order so that he would not appear unlearned.

      He did that now, making lists of possible ways the eventual attack might occur if they were overtaken. Countering with exact accounts of his probable response to each and every one. In his experience, such preparedness often made a difference in dealing with any problem.

      When dwelling upon Mairi, he had to make an even greater effort to prevent his mind’s collective vision of her overpowering all his senses at once. He put her into words.

      Rob purposely gave name to her delicate fragrance of roses that blended so enticingly with her own sweet scent. Syllable by syllable, he inwardly described her tresses, like honey-colored silk sliding over his fingers. He spelled out the tangible hum of her voice as she spoke when he was touching her, and silently narrated his joy in the act of simply looking at her.

      He composed poetry of epic length to celebrate her beauty and her courage, seeing the letters unfold upon an imaginary scroll of parchment as he did so.

      Separating and enumerating her charms occupied a large portion of his time, he realized. So much time that he wondered whether it helped or hindered his attempt to reduce the stunning effect she worked upon him.

      His dreams of her, of course, he would not be able to control. There she would likely spring to mind in her entirety. Given the way Mairi had reacted to their first kisses, Rob could not pretend he dreaded sleep during which thinking in words was impossible.

      All day they had trekked through the Highlands, moving at a steady pace, halting to rest whenever the horses seemed weary. Though they were well away from Craigmuir, Rob did not alter their pace. Her kinsmen’s men could not move any more rapidly than this and hope to preserve their mounts.

      He cast a brief glance behind him and noticed how proudly Mairi rode. She had her chin raised and her back straight as if she had not ridden the day long through terrain that would daunt the hardiest of travelers.

      They had plodded up and down hillsides and through gorges so narrow his shoulders nearly touched each wall as they passed. And yet Mairi continued to endure without a protest. Or at least Wee Andy had not seen fit to pass it on to him if she had. Rob had a feeling she would not have waited for him to gain the news secondhand if she meant to issue any complaint.

      The small clearing they now passed through would make as good a camp as any, he supposed. No place would prove truly safe until they entered the gates of Baincroft, but they could not hope to ride for four days without decent rest.

      It was nearing dark and he admitted he could use a few hours of sleep himself, having had none the night before. The laird’s deathwatch had not allowed it. His bride must be ready to fall from the saddle, despite her determination to show no weakness.

      The decision made, Rob reined in and dismounted. “We sleep here,” he announced as he strode back the few lengths necessary to reach Mairi’s mare.

      He took the reins from her hands, plucked her from the saddle and set her on her feet. Her legs promptly buckled. Rob caught her before she crumpled to the ground. With a small laugh, he swung her into his arms and carried her to the nearest tree. It was huge with giant roots that rose above the ground. One provided a smooth seat for her.

      “Make a fire,” he ordered Andy, and began dragging the packs from the horses. He unrolled a woolen blanket and placed it over a cushion of thick grass. On the other side of the fire Wee Andy was preparing, he placed another coverlet.

      When he indicated with a gesture that Mairi should lie down, she frowned, shook her head and spoke. He caught the words sleep and beside you.

      No test of his reasoning here. She would not sleep with him. Not surprising, he thought with a shrug. He had not expected her to lie willingly beneath him tonight.

      Despite that, he assumed an aggrieved look and heaved a huge sigh of pretended resignation, not wanting Mairi to think he had not desired her. He certainly had…did, however, now was neither the time nor the place to relieve that. He pulled his cloak out of his pack and tossed it several feet away from the blanket meant for her.

      He busied himself gathering more firewood, watching surreptitiously as she stood and tested her legs, then disappeared into the trees for a short while. When she returned, she snatched up the blanket and removed it to a place well away from where he had thrown his cloak.

      Rob grinned. He would never take pleasure of his bride in such a place as this, but if it gave her peace of mind and a feeling of control to put a greater distance between them, he would allow it. Until she fell asleep.

      He turned, saw the observant Andy frowning at him, and winked to assure the man he was not piqued. Wee Andy seemed to be developing protectiveness for the lady. He likely thought her sharp words might anger a new husband, but Rob did not take them amiss at all.

      Mairi’s ire over her forced departure from her home obviously had not abated. He believed it was that alone that drove her to deny him, not the fact that she abhorred his deafness. He had thought it might distress her, and was relieved it had not seemed to. She had kissed him willingly enough yesterday in that glade. She had wed him, had she not?

      However, he wondered now if it might not have been better to have laid the matter bare between them at the outset, before the wedding. That way he would have known exactly what he faced, and so would she.

      He misliked guessing what she thought of it. Not once had she indicated that she cared one way or the other. Had she decided to ignore his lack of hearing altogether, pretend it did not exist? That would certainly not last for long.

      Some people roundly feared the affliction and considered him cursed. Because of that, he had grown used to concealing it from all but his friends and family. Once he had learned to speak, that had never proved difficult with chance met acquaintances. They simply never thought to suspect such a thing.

      It was a rare enough condition, so he’d been told. When it did occur, most people so stricken were also mute. His ability to speak usually prevented any suspicion of deafness.

      A few did know, of course, and he imagined he was the object of some discussion behind his back. But he had never even considered withholding the knowledge from his intended bride or her father.

      He had made a point of ordering Thomas to tell the laird before the betrothal contracts were drawn up, assuming that the laird would tell the daughter the problems she might encounter if she accepted the marriage.

      Rob knew his deafness would affect their life together more than any other thing. Mairi would not understand that yet, but the realization must come to her one day soon.

      He wondered how she would react if some fool accused him of consorting with devils, bartering his sense of sound in exchange for dark, evil powers. That had happened twice before, once with his mother’s uncle and then later with Thomas and Jehannie’s grandfather, Sir Simon. Even many priests believed