Elene tilted her head slightly and cocked an eyebrow before smirking. “If people thought I was your wife, there’d be no harm in more of that kissing.”
Liam stepped forward again as he pulled on her waist to bring her closer. He rested his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses touching. “This charade isn’t without risk, and I don’t know how long we can carry it off, but if it gives me permission to kiss you whenever the mood strikes, and you don’t push me away, then I shall take it.”
“I can’t imagine pushing you away.” Elene lifted her chin enough for their lips to brush again. The kiss was soft, the earlier passion missing. But there was a tenderness to it in which they both reveled. As they gazed at one another, something passed between them that neither wanted to speak aloud. But the connection deepened, and neither was sure they could ever walk away.
“We must tell my men what’s happening. We can’t afford for any of them to misspeak and give away that you’re not truly my wife.” Liam glanced over his shoulder, still surprised no one interrupted them. “Elene, if we can continue this ruse long enough to get you to my birlinns, then I will take you to Scotland. If you wish to live in the Highlands or the Lowlands, then I will take you where you want. If you want to make your home among the Sinclairs, I am certain you can.” Liam paused, unsure if he should share the next thought. He worried it would sound like he rejected her if he didn’t, but he also worried about her interpretation if he did. “If you wish to live among the Mackays, I know neither my mother nor father would oppose.”
Elene watched as Liam struggled to decide whether he should share his final thought. She knew he worried he would hurt her feelings if he didn’t invite her to his home. At the same time, she knew he feared she would read too much into his offer to take her to Castle Varrich.
“I don’t know where I want to settle, but if we can travel to Scotland and I can find somewhere to call home, then I won’t complain where.” It was Elene’s turn to glance toward the door. “How will you get me aboard the curragh now? Njál didn’t see me arrive with you, so he will question how I came to be with you.”
“I have a pair of breeks and a spare leine. I detest wearing the damn things, but I have them just in case whenever I leave the Highlands. You don those along with my cloak. We get you onto a curragh as quickly as we can and seat you with the oars to make it appear like you can’t help carry the sacks. Keep your head down, even look like you’re examining something with the oar. We’ll leave as soon as we can load everything. I’ll explain to my men in Gaelic.”
Elene nodded once before Liam hurried to the stable door. He looked around, spying no one before he rushed to Urram’s side. He pulled his spare clothes and cloak from the saddlebag before dashing back into the stables. He handed the clothes to Elene and spun around. He squeezed his eyes closed but peeked from one as he heard her clothes moving. He could only see the wall ahead of him, so he clenched both closed again. The temptation nipped at him, having already been so close to her naked body once. He inhaled deeply as he attempted to calm his sudden spike in lust. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Elene touched the back of his arm.
“I’m ready. What about these?” She held up her clothes, folded into a small bundle.
“I’ll stash them in my saddlebag on the way to the wagon. Stand on the far side near the horses, so you’re harder to see. Then we’ll get you settled into the curragh once the others are there. We can’t have you sitting alone where anyone can question you. Come. We need to hurry now.” They moved together, trying to appear casual. Elene wore the hood over her blonde hair. Once she stood between the draft horses, Liam looked around, grabbed the gift cask of whisky, and made his way to the mead hall. With every step, he prayed their plan worked.
CHAPTER7
Liam looked around the mead hall, easily spotting his men. Njál sat with a group of his own men but turned toward him as Liam squeezed between the benches to reach the other Highlanders. The Sinclairs and Dermot looked at Liam questioningly, but none spoke when Liam slashed them a quick, quelling glance.
“I wondered if you’d wandered into the sea,” Njál teased.
“Yes, well, nature called.” Liam grinned and shrugged. “Too many oatcakes. It took a while.”
Njál chuckled and returned Liam’s shrug. “Your men have eaten and drunk, so I suppose we can unload the wagon.”
“We need to be off before the tide changes. My father sends his condolences and congratulations.” Liam handed over the cask before he looked at his men, surprised to realize none had unloaded anything in his absence. When they filed out, Dermot leaned close to Liam.
“I stepped back out when ye returned to the wagon. I saw Elene.”
Liam kept his gaze forward, but his heart lurched. “Is that why nay one came searching for me? Why nay one unloaded the wagon?”
“Aye.” Dermot waited for Liam to further explain, but when he glanced at his friend, he realized Liam was staring at the front of the wagon. Liam increased his pace and canted his head toward the wagon.
“She’s coming with us. I need ye to help me shield her from any of the villagers seeing her.” Liam scanned his men, who walked around them. Adopting a commanding voice, hoping it sounded like he ordered his men in Gaelic to unload the wagon, Liam said, “Elene is coming with us. Nay one says aught aboot her until we are away. Keep her protected and be quick with the sacks and barrels.”
“They already kenned she’s here. I warned them nae to say aught if they saw her. We’ll all do as ye say, but do ye ken what ye’re doing?”
“Ye bluidy well better hope I do.” Liam stepped between the wagon’s horses, his back to them but facing Elene. Dermot stepped behind her. When she made to look over her shoulder, Liam’s hand brushed hers. She read his expression and kept still. He spoke to her in Norn, keeping his voice low. “Stay between us until we can get you on the boat. I need to talk to Dermot as though you aren’t here, or people will wonder why we’re standing around.”
Elene nodded, then kept her head down. They shielded her smaller frame from view, but she wished she weren’t so tall. Her heart pounded as she waited for someone to ask why she hid.
Liam directed his comments to Dermot, but he knew his men could hear. In Gaelic, he explained, “Once we load the curraghs, I want Elene seated with oars. Put Cadence in the other one. I need there to be a reason she isn’t working. It’ll look odd if only one rower is seated. Right now, she’ll be facing away from the shore. I told her to look like she’s examining the oars. I’ll climb in and take her place before we turn them around. When I do and we push off, I’ll have her lay in the hull until we’re out of sight.”
Liam looked around and noticed that everything they intended to leave in this village was already unloaded, and locals were carrying them away. He pointed to a sack as he grabbed one. Dermot hefted it onto his shoulder while Liam did the same. They made their way to the farther rowboat, the extra load aiding their large bodies as they blocked Elene from anyone’s view from behind or the sides. She moved with ease once she climbed into the rowboat.
The bobbing affected her not at all, and Liam reminded himself that she grew up in a fishing village. She seated herself at the oars, and it was obvious she was familiar with the position. She followed Liam’s instructions, pulling in one oar, and leaning forward as if she examined the handle. Keeping her head down, the hood continued to cover her blonde braid. Her heart raced, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t open them even as she pushed out the oar she held and drew in the other. She felt the rowboat bob as the men added sacks and barrels. She’d noticed there was a bench for an additional rower, since the boats were larger than she’d expected.
A whinny distracted her from her fear, making her look between the curraghs. There was a platform with raised sides and ropes on the front and back. When Elene spied it tied between the rowboats earlier, she assumed it was for extra barrels that didn’t fit in the rowboats. But she realized it was more of a barge for the horses. She watched, fascinated, as the men loaded the horses onto the floating platform. She marveled at how much sturdier it was than it appeared. She’d feared it would sink under the weight of the first two horses, but all of them fit. When the last horse boarded the barge, a Sinclair secured the front rope again. The men clamored into the curraghs.
Liam’s hand on her shoulder as a man passed her to sit between the other set of oars signaled her to drop onto the hull of the boat. She drew the cloak around her and virtually disappeared once men sat on the other benches. The tension between her shoulders and clenched jaw made her body ache, but she wouldn’t relax until she knew no one would stop them. She felt the curragh move into the surf, then the oars on the port side turn them, so the stern met the waves. The spray that misted her fingers as she clenched the cloak drawn around her was perishing.
“Elene, you can sit up,” Liam stated. “Move onto a bench; there’s room.”
Elene sat up, looking around her. She looked at the bench behind her, opposite of where Liam sat rowing. She kept her head covered but took a seat, glad to uncurl her body from the fetal position. She flexed her fingers, alternating hands. She shifted her gaze from Liam to the surrounding men, then to those on the other curragh. However, the horses made it veritably impossible to see those men. She looked over Liam’s shoulder and watched the land shrink as the distance grew.
