Bryce set to helping, and they quickly hid the bodies in thick undergrowth.
‘There, they will not be discovered until we are long gone,’ said Maren.
Their eyes met over three corpses. Hers were wide, dark and unreadable in a chalk-white face.
‘It seems we have declared war on English redcoats, you and I,’ said Bryce.
‘We have always been at war with them.’
‘And this is not the first time you have seen death, is it, Maren?’
‘For a lass like me, of course not.’
Bryce was seized with a need to know more about her. It was a weakness to ask, but he had to. ‘That man at the docks. Who was he? A lover?’
‘No. A friend.’
‘Are you sweet on him?’
She gave a bitter laugh. ‘What does it matter? Are you jealous, Bryce?’
‘Aye. I will own that I am. So answer me.’
‘Tis nothing. He does not know me, nor does he really wish to. I flatter myself that he just likes the way I look, as do you.’
‘Do I?’
‘Aye, for men have always stared, coveted, slavered over me like dogs. It is beyond tiresome.’
Bryce frowned. ‘You are a contradiction, lass. You can shoot a man in the head, and you look like a whore, but you speak well for low-born criminal.’
‘My mother was a peasant, but she was a clever peasant. Before she met my father, she worked for a grand old laird who taught her to read.’
‘What else did he teach her besides?’
Her eyes became guarded. ‘Whatever he wanted to, I suppose. But the strong take from the weak, and that is the way of it. Whatever my mother gave him, she got tenfold in return, for a keen mind is this life’s greatest gift.’
‘I would beg to differ. A bonnie face can achieve just as much.’ Bryce came closer and stared down into her eyes. ‘It can enslave a man as yours has enslaved me.’
‘See, as I said, coveting.’ Maren put a palm to his cheek, their mouths almost touching. ‘You come at me all seduction with three corpses at your feet?’
‘Redcoat villains are nought to me. Scotland is a better place without them.’
Her mouth fell open as if he had surprised her somehow, but Maren’s expression hardened soon enough. ‘Neither your seduction nor your patriotic fervour will work on me, Bryce, no matter that it is backed up by a handsome face. We made a bargain to pretend, nothing more, and if you try anything, I will slice your gullet open.’
‘Ah, but let me tell you a little about Bryce Cullan. I am not just handsome. I am patient to a fault.’
‘Let me tell you something. I do not suffer arrogant fools. So stop your mooning over me and get us clear of this crime before I leave you to your fate.’
‘I am sorry I did not protect you well enough against these men, lass. I would not put this on your conscience.’
Maren’s bottom lip trembled a little, and for a moment, Bryce thought she might cry, but then she rushed away from him to the remaining horse.
She hitched up her skirt as she slid her foot into the stirrup to reveal long, firm legs, all creamy skin and lithe vigour. Maren turned to him with the hair blowing over her face, wild and writhing like chestnut snakes as the wind took it. The lass was a most stirring sight, as free and untamed as the moors behind her, yet womanly and soft.
‘Come on. We had better be going before those shots attract more villains or a redcoat patrol comes and fills you full of holes,’ she said with no softness at all.
This woman who now belonged to him was quite the contradiction. He tried to resist the urge to stare at her luscious mouth, begging to be kissed, and heartily. Bryce imagined her tender hands all over him, soothing, tantalising, teasing. Yet she was hard enough to turn away from three dead men.
