Thank God Joan was well. Annabella sat up. How could she think that the heavens had sent her a man who thought it was a clever idea to abduct a pregnant woman about to give birth? No, surely the heavens did not have that much punishment in mind for her.
She flopped back down and turned on her other side. What now? The past hours had proven he was not interested in torturing or ravaging her. For the moment, she felt somewhat safe. As long as she possessed value as a hostage, she would not come to harm. And that was about as much sense as she could make out of it.
Angus MacDonald was a puzzle she would have to lay aside and figure out another day. This particular one had left her bone tired and in need of rest.
Sadly, it would not come. For what seemed like hours, Annabella tossed and turned, until she closed her eyes just as the first streaks of grey crossed the wooden planked floor of her tiny sanctuary. What seemed like seconds later, the connecting door opened and the object of her torment stepped through.
* * *
Angus had not slept a single wink and was in a foul mood as he donned his tunic, shirt, and plaid. The woman in the chamber adjacent to him had haunted his thoughts until he finally gave into his awakened state and arose to make preparations for the day’s journey.
Each time he had closed his eyes, he could see her full breasts, feel the silk of her flesh, and smell her lavender scent. God, his loins ached to bury himself deep within her. Nothing could aid him in his current state except to have her and be done with it. But he would not. As a lady, she was no doubt intended for some flowery Englishman. The thought made his guts churn. She needed a real man to bring out the passion he sensed bubbled just beneath the surface. Twice when he had touched her, she had responded as though they had already been lovers.
And he had vowed that no harm would come to her. Sadly, that included many hours of pleasure he was certain they could have shared. It had been a very long time since a woman had intrigued him this much, and Angus needed to sober from her intoxicating presence. Perhaps he should have taken the kitchen maid up on her offer. No doubt she would have lifted her skirts and bent over anything for him. It would not have taken long, but he would not have enjoyed it. She was not who he wanted.
Angus entered Annabella’s room quietly and came around the side of her bed to see if she was awake. Her frame was slender except for her curvy hips and full breasts. She was made for passion, and he ached to be the one to draw it from her. What he wouldn’t give to hear her scream his name as her climax overtook her.
Her eyes fluttered, then opened. “Is it the morn already?” she asked in a sleepy voice.
“Aye, lass, and we have a long day’s journey, so you best be up so we can be on our way.”
He noticed the dark circles underneath her eyes. Mayhap she had not slept well, either. He wouldn’t allow himself the pleasure of assuming her lack of slumber had anything to do with him. Surely that was not possible.
“Please turn around while I dress.”
Her voice held no challenge; only a simple plea. And Angus found himself turning before he even realized what he was doing. Had she shouted at him, he would have probably stood his ground. He glanced back over his shoulder and grinned when he spied her surprised expression. He liked that. She thought she had him figured out, but she knew nothing about him or the Highlands.
“Must I ride with you today?” she asked.
“A little, but today we mostly sail from here, south to the isle of Islay. ’Tis the most beautiful of all the western isles.”
“Sailing? In a ship?”
Was there trepidation in her voice? “Aye, lass, ‘tis the only way to get to an island unless you have tamed a water horse or are an exceptional swimmer.” His back was still turned to her, so he could not tell if his jest had been well received or not. She did at times appear a quite stiff, but that was to be expected from an English noblewoman. “Have you never sailed before?”
She stepped into his view, and he noted the furrowed brow and her frown. “I have never sailed, MacDonald. But that is not what troubles me. Why must we travel so far away? Do you not think the king will make the exchange quickly?”
Angus’s heart squeezed a little. She understood much more than he had allowed her credit. The truth of the matter was that this sort of thing could take weeks or even months when message exchanges and distance were factored into the equation.
Messenger birds, while mostly reliable, were not perfect. Sometimes they simply shat on their owners’ heads and flew away. Annabella would likely remain at Finlaggan Castle for the remainder of the summer.
“I do not know how long it will take for the Stewart to respond,” he said in a clipped tone, which he immediately regretted when she winced. She had not shown cowardice up to this point, and he could not help but wonder at the cause for the change in her. The day prior, she had been courageous and composed.
Angus watched as her gaze searched his face. Finally, after long minutes passed, she said, “I wish to return to my cousin.”
“As I told you yesterday, that will not happen until the king releases my father from wherever he holds him.”
“If you release me, I will find him and I will release him myself.”
“Do not think me fool enough to believe you wield that kind of power over the Stewart.”
“I do not hold any power over him, but his wife is my cousin and she will do anything to secure my safe return.”
“If that is the case, then my proposal will see a prompt response and we shall sail back from Islay within a fortnight.”
“A fortnight! No! That is not possible. I cannot stay in your castle that long.” She placed her hands on her hips and actually scowled at him.
Angus tried hard not to grin at the sight of her, defiant before him in all her English glory, her previous stiffness disappearing by the second as her anger overtook her.
