“Here, take this,” Erskine shrugged off his coat and offered it to her.
She hesitated, looking between him and the coat in surprise. It revealed the tight fit of his open-necked brown waistcoat and the white shirt sleeves that stretched across his broad shoulders.
“Are you sure? What if you grow cold?”
“I will be fine,” he passed the coat into her hands and shrugged off the idea. “I’m from Scotland, laddie. It gets mighty cold up there. I reckon I can handle this chill better than ye.”
She smiled as she pulled on the cloak. She had rather expected it to hold a bad smell. After all, the man must have ridden down from Scotland to London wearing it, but instead, it held a soft musky smell. It made her pull the coat around her mouth more.
“I am afraid we have nay spare horse, so ye will have to ride with me,” Erskine said as he mounted the saddle of his steed with ease.
“With you?” Laura repeated in shock, too startled for a moment to even attempt to climb up the saddle. Before she could respond further, another horse pulled up behind her in the stable, ridden by Dearg.
“Ye are takin’ very good care of the boy, brother,” Dearg bore a smile that suggested mischief.
“It’s called being kind,” Laura threw the words over her shoulder as she moved nearer to the saddle, preparing to climb up.
“Is that his motive? I could think of another motive entirely.”
The words made Laura snap her head back round to Dearg to see he was chuckling now, confused as to his meaning.
“Dearg, do ye intend to be this much of a pain the whole journey back to Scotland?” Erskine asked as he offered his hand to Laura to help her up. She took his hand gladly and pulled herself up, startled at the warmth within his grasp.
She had to sit with both legs on either side of the saddle, something she had not done before and felt alien to her. She had grown up training to ride sidesaddle and could remember her father’s words during her lessons, speaking of how ‘ladylike’ she must always appear when riding a horse.
I wonder what he would say if he could see me now!
“A pain?” Dearg put upon a false appearance of pain. “Ye wound me, brother! I was merely makin’ an observation.”
As the two brothers bickered, Laura grew aware of just how close she was to Erskine. She had never been so close to a man before. Her front was practically pressed against his back. She brought herself as far back in the saddle as she possibly could, but still, her thighs were so near to his, it was plain as day the size difference between them, with his large, strong legs and her thin petite ones.
Should I be scared of being so close to a man like Erskine? Or should I feel safe?
Looking between them, she found it was another feeling entirely that was consuming her…
Excitement.
* * *
Erskine hoped his dark glare would bring Dearg’s jests to an end, but it was clear his brother had no intention of being quiet.
“I daenae need to hear any more of yer observations,” Erskine said as he steered his steed out of the stable. He grew very aware of Billie sat behind him. They were sat close together indeed.
“But it might amuse ye to hear them? They are certainly amusin’ me,” Dearg chuckled as he brought his horse back level with theirs.
“Enough, Dearg!” At Erskine’s sharp words, he merely saw his brother continue to laugh.
“Very well, Aiden? Tell me, when Billie spurned the young courtesan, did ye see what happened to her?”
“Aye, she spent the rest of the night with me,” Aiden called from behind them. As the others laughed, slowly entering back into their bawdy humor, Erskine pulled his steed ahead, aware that Billie had stiffened in the saddle.
Erskine was no fool. He could tell what Dearg was insinuating with his subtle jests, but in truth, the reason why the jests were riling him so much was because of his own reactions to Billie.
The lad had a very unusual figure for a boy, possessing slim curves that belonged much more to a young woman. The pretty features were not helping, nor were the bold blue eyes that seemed to hold so much expression in them. When Billie had placed his hand in Erskine’s to climb into the saddle, Erskine had found himself thinking of the boy’s slender hand and the thin figure that fit so snuggly behind him in the saddle.
What the hell is wrong with me!?
Erskine had never felt a longing for anyone other than a woman before; it was just the way he was. The past encounters he had had in chambers had always been with women, and the heat that had pumped through his body at each one of those encounters had never left him for one moment considering that he could have a liking for men instead.
