Page 50 of This Laird of Mine

It was on that thought that Claire closed her eyes. She had to be strong enough to find the girls, and when they were safe, she had to find the strength to reach for what she truly wanted.

Jules.

Annoyed that she had shut him out, Jules grabbed a blanket and settled it on the ground next to Claire’s. He’d be damned if he would let her take watch alone. Did she not realize the danger? He reached up to touch the still-bruised flesh around his eye. These people, whomever they were, would not make finding the girls easy, nor would they give them up without a fight.

He lay down on his side, facing Claire. In the firelight, he could see that her eyes were firmly shut. She wasn’t asleep, not yet. He looked down at her hands on the outside of the blanket. Such small hands, fine-boned, graceful, and delicate. In that moment, he regretted his words about her paintbrush. He was angry, and without thinking the words had slipped free. He started to reach for her. The need to touch her was great. Then he stopped, letting his hand fall to the blanket a few inches from her hand.

He was hurting. He wanted desperately to pull her to him and—

Damnation, he couldn’t stand much more of this. He forced his hands to unclasp and release the wool blanket captured in his clasp.

Claire suddenly shifted onto her side, away from him.

His anger returned. How dare she try to calmly dismiss him from her life? Didn’t she realize she belonged . . . He blocked the thought before it could become fully formed. Again he clenched and unclenched his hands at his side.

Claire blocking him out should have been a relief. If she kept herself separate from him, it would be easier to obtain the dissolution of their marriage.

Yet, her behavior only fired his blood for more of the passion they had shared, and with fear for what she would do on her own. Jules settled against the hard dirt beneath his back and stared at the stars, glittering like diamonds overhead. Even the beauty of the night sky did not calm the turmoil inside him.

He was ready to rid himself of his wife, wasn’t he?

Hidden by the darkness and the trees, a cloaked figure looked down upon the small campsite. She drew a silent breath as she contemplated the situation.

Her plans for Kildare and his wife had been foiled by her own impulsive behavior. She’d intended to strike at the manor, while they were all on familiar territory and where they might have relaxed their guard. Yet, her own anger had forced her to react, and in the heat of her emotions, she’d destroyed the young girl’s hand, alerting them to her presence.

Instead of disappointment, anticipation burned through her body. This current situation was better than what she had planned. She smiled into the darkness as she watched the orange glow of the campfire. She would follow them to Edinburgh. She knew they were headed to the other girls. And when they’d figured out the trap she had set, she would strike them all. No longer could she be satisfied with punishing only Kildare.

They all deserved to suffer for what he’d done to her. She yearned to finally have her justice. She’d plotted and planned for years. Eagerness churned inside her. Too many years she’d been fantasizing about this moment. With it so close, it was hard to maintain control.

Her stomach clenched. And for a heartbeat she considered just killing them all now. Until reason returned. She drew a slow, steadying breath. It would be better to wait. She must not be impatient. Her thirst for revenge would be whetted more fully if she took the time to anticipate and enjoy the hunt that was about to ensue.

The time for revenge was almost at hand.

“Claire. Wake up.”

It was Jules’s voice, but it no longer held the anger and irritation it had held the night before.

Morning. Claire opened her eyes to the morning light. She sat up. Jules was beside her. His face looked softer than it had as well. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

His gaze ran over her tumbled hair and flushed cheeks, and a flare of desire came into his eyes. He stood and backed away. “You were sleeping so peacefully, David and I decided to let you sleep.”

She frowned, stood, and smoothed the wrinkles from her gown. “That wasn’t the arrangement.”

He turned away. “There are oats in the pot over the fire for breakfast. While David and I break camp, please see that you and Penelope have something to eat. We have another long day of riding ahead of us.”

Claire didn’t argue as she was suddenly eager to be on their way. By dusk they would be in Edinburgh. Perhaps by nightfall, the girls would be safe. And life could go on as it had for years. The thought left her empty inside, but she forced the sensation away. There would be time enough after this was over to deal with the loneliness.

She gathered the blankets she and Penelope had used and rolled them the way Jules had before they’d left. Penelope’s cheeks held more color today despite the lines of sorrow Claire saw in the young woman’s face. Relief lightened Claire’s mood. All would be well, eventually. Penelope would adjust to the loss of her finger, and she would find a way to go on.

Silently, Claire moved to the fire and dished up oats for herself and her ward. When they had finished eating, Claire gathered the blankets she and Penelope had used and rolled them the way Jules had before they’d left. After handing the blankets to Jules, Claire started toward Penelope to help her up on the waiting horse. David beat her to Penelope’s side, lifting her onto the horse. A heartbeat later, he cradled the young woman in his arms. Claire bit back a smile as a tiny, sparkling ray of hope tightened her chest.

Perhaps things really would be all right in the end.

“May I help you up?” Jules asked. He reached out his hand to her.

“Yes, please,” she replied brightly as she was lifted, then she settled in front of him on the horse. He took the reins and led them farther into the forest. “We are keeping to the trees?”

She felt him nod behind her. “It is safer that way.”