"Weel, I am nay sure I want ye to hear these rules. Ye may take them to heart."
"A bit late for that, I think. Howbeit, you have now roused my curiousity. What else?"
"No getting naked."
Since her modesty was so deeply set in her heart and mind, Jolene suspected she might have tried to obey that one, but, considering how much she enjoyed being skin to skin with him, she would surely have broken it. “Nay, blush though I do, I rather like being naked with you. Next?"
Sigimor began to relax, his fear that she would begin to think what they shared was wrong fading away. “No touching above or below the waist.” He slid his hand all the way down her back and gently kneaded her backside, liking the way it filled his hands and especially liking the way she wriggled against him when he caressed her there. “It should be verra dark and one should remain beneath the covers. It might be best if she also closes her eyes so that she doesnae risk seeing her husband's flesh. A few kisses may be allowed, but she must keep her lips sealed as ladies do not allow the common, uncouth practice of using one's tongue."
"Oh, for heaven's sake,” Jolene muttered, not even wanting to think of how much she would have missed if she had ever tried to follow such advice. “Just whatisthe wife supposed to do?"
"Endure."
Jolene shook her head, half in disbelief, half in denial. If that was the sort of advice that was given to new brides, it was no wonder so many marriages never became more than a cold alliance of wealth, land, and power. She briefly felt a little foolish for wanting so much more than passion from Sigimor. At least they shared that. Then, she inwardly shook her head again, throwing off that thought. There was no harm in wanting the richest union possible or hoping that her husband would feel as she did. Jolene was afraid that she already felt a great deal indeed for this man. It would certainly explain how he could make her feel so crazed with desire that, even if she had been raised with such restrictive rules, she knew she would have broken them all. She felt nothing but pity for all the women who had lived by those hard rules for, although their piety and modesty may have been preserved in the eyes of others, they had lost far more than they ever gained.
What the older women, those women who were supposed to be so much wiser, should tell young brides is how to hold fast to their husband's passion and respect, how to win his love. That was certainly what she could use some advice about. The fact that she was so anxious that Sigimor care for her, even love her, told Jolene that she was already caught tightly in his snare, even if she did not put a name to what she felt.
"Weel, lass, are ye feeling inclined to endure a wee bit?” Sigimor asked as he kissed her throat.
Pleased to be distracted from her thoughts, she hummed her pleasure as he nibbled her ear. “If I must,” she said in a tone of voice worthy of a martyr.
"Ye did vow to obey me."
"I believe I mumbled that part, making the words as unintelligible as possible."
Sigimor was about to argue that point when there was a pounding on the door and David urgently called his name. He was impressed by Jolene's swift reaction. She was out of bed before he had even begun to push her aside and raced behind the privacy screen, grabbing her belongings on the way. Sigimor yanked on his braies and told David to come in.
"Harold is on his way,” David announced as he strode into the room. “Liam, Tait, and Marcus just brought the word."
Cursing viciously, Sigimor began to get dressed. “How close is the mon?"
"Liam is readying our horses as the others grab our belongings."
"Go,” ordered Sigimor. “The rest of ye take the laddie and go now. Ride for Scarglas. Jolene and I will meet up with ye there. I said go,” he growled when David opened his mouth to speak.
Jolene stumbled out from behind the privacy screen still lacing up her shift as she heard David run off. “Sigimor,” she began.
"Nay, lass, dinnae argue o'er this. E'en if we rush, we will be several minutes in the leaving. The fact that Liam returned and immediately started preparations to leave means that Harold is verra close. If the rest leave now there is a chance they can flee the village without being seen. There is no time to find out how near Harold is or why Liam is so urgent. I suspicion Liam's urgency is also born of the fact that Harold hasallof his men with him now. If we are lucky, we, too, can leave without being seen. If not, we can draw Harold away from the others at least. Aye, he can weary himself and his horses chasing us about whilst the wee lad is brought safe to Scarglas. Harold willnae get round my cousins the MacFingals.” He moved to help her finish dressing.
"Are you certain of that?” she asked, fighting her fears. “Harold has proven quicker and more clever than I e'er thought he would. Oh, I knew he had cunning and all, but I did think we could at least outrun him."
"And we will.” He braided her hair as she laced up her gown. “Trust me about the MacFingals. There isnae the time to tell the tale now, but my cousins have learned weel how to watch an enemy. As for cunning, few can beat them. Wheesht, they could steal a body out of a coffin whilst the poor soul's kinsmen are still carrying it to the grave."
"I am not sure such a recommendation makes me all that eager to meet them."
Sigimor grabbed their belongings, took her by the hand, and started out of the room. “Aye, they can be a wee bit odd, but they are fine men for all that."
The innkeeper's wife waited at the bottom of the stairs and handed Jolene a waterskin and small sack of food. “Your horses are ready and waiting just outside of the kitchen."
"If the mon asks after us,” began Sigimor.
The woman crossed her arms over her expansive bosom. “Och, as if I will be telling some puling Sassenach how to catch such fine, braw laddies. Get on with ye. That bonnie lad of yours has already paid me most handsomely. Off with ye now.” She waved her apron, shooing them toward the rear entrance of the inn.
Sigimor pulled Jolene along at a near run, and she did her best to keep pace with him without stumbling. The horses were waiting just where the woman had said they would be. Sigimor secured their belongings to their saddles as Jolene mounted her horse. She braced herself for the hard ride ahead of her. She was a good rider and felt confident she could keep up with Sigimor. What she was not confident about was her ability to endure a long hard ride. Even after days of travel and the hardening she had gained from it, she worried that she could slow Sigimor down if they had to try and outrun Harold for too many miles.
After mounting his horse, Sigimor led her on a winding, stealthy route out of the village. She caught him carefully looking all around as they rode and she realized he was keeping watch for Harold and his men. It was as they reached a spot where the only choice left them was the road that ran straight through the village that Sigimor moved close enough to the road to be able to get a clear view either way. The soft curses he uttered told Jolene that he had been wise to send the others off ahead of them.
She edged up beside him, looked in the same direction he was, and almost repeated his curses. Harold and his men were not far away. Even if he had not had a dozen heavily armed men with him, he would have been impossible to miss. Jolene had seen enough of Scotland and its people to know that Harold proclaimed himself a stranger in both his manner and his dress. He also looked very, very English. Until her time with the Camerons, she never would have realized how clear the difference between the people was. In fact, if he had not had such a large force of men with him, Jolene was sure Harold would have been attacked, robbed, and, perhaps, killed days ago.
