Chapter Six
Malcolm usually wasn’tone for singing, especially to a beautiful lass, but here he was. Singing to Miss Barclay, whilst she sat on his lap, wrapped in his arms, as she struggled to calm down.
Singing was the first thing that popped into his mind when he’d picked up her trembling body. He didn’t know many songs, but this was one he’d taken a particular fancy to and remembered all the words. As his hands stroked her back and his voice filled the carriage, the rain offering a rhythmic backdrop, his only worry was to ease her nerves.
The way she buried her face in his chest, her hands clenched into tiny fists, his body was having an awakening of its own.
Mary watched his every movement from the seat across from them. Her forehead creased in concern. Whether it was due to his actions or worry for her mistress, he wasn’t certain. But she remained quiet as she watched, wringing her hands in her lap.
He reckoned something bad had happened to Lizzie for her to have such a reaction to the storm, but he didn’t want to press her when she was so distraught. He only wanted to offer her comfort. To show her that she was safe with him.
That voice in the back of his mind broke into his thoughts. Reminding him she was a thief. This was work. A mission he’d been assigned.
But he ignored the voice of reason. The one that also reminded him that he had no right to be holding her so tightly in his arms. She shouldn’t be in his arms at all.
Never mind on his lap.
Even though she fit perfectly.
The carriage ambled along, a bit slower now that the roads were muddy from the heavy rain. He hoped they didn’t get stuck, but that was entirely plausible considering the storm.
Thankfully, the thunder and lightning had ceased, and now it was just rain.
He should let her go. Set her back on her seat to sit by her maid.
But he couldn’t. He found himself enjoying the feel of her in his arms too much.
Mary was watching them closely. He didn’t blame the maid. It was her duty to ensure her lady was safe and not compromised. Something that he was surely making difficult.
Malcolm would never do anything to mar the lass’s reputation. No matter how much his body screamed right now. He could only hope that the lass wouldn’t notice his reaction. He was almost uncomfortably hard. The urge to rearrange himself to be more discreet was there, but he didn’t want to disturb the lass. And he feared doing so would only bring attention to his predicament.
She had finally stopped trembling. That was a good sign.
Pushing away from his chest, she looked up at him, her cheeks tinged pink as she patted his shirt.
“I-I apologize, my lord. I am no’ one to act in such a manner. ’Twas a bit of an embarrassing show, I must admit.”
He tucked his finger under her chin and forced her eyes to his. “Dinna apologize, Miss. How are ye feeling now?”
Her gaze moved to the window, taking in the lightening sky, and nodded. “I am much improved, Sir. Thank ye.”
She moved across the carriage to sit beside Mary once again, who clasped her hands in hers and brought them to her lap.
Quickly, he adjusted his sitting position to not give the women a fright. Had he been anyplace else, with any other company, he would have taken her right then and there in the carriage as they ambled down the road on the way to their destination. Well, once she regained her wits.
He usually didn’t hold back when it came to his body’s urges. Of course, the women he had bedded were always willing participants. He wasn’t a sod. Forcing a woman to do something she did not want to do was not something he found pleasure in. He was far from innocent, but he had his ethics.
Right now he was praising himself on his control. Soon, they should arrive at the inn where they would sup and spend the night.
And a long night it would be. He wouldn’t sleep in their room. That would no doubt spread rumors that didn’t need to be spread, but he would sleep close to ensure their safety.
And to make sure they didn’t chance an escape. He doubted they would, but just in case.
But he figured as long as he had possession of her grandmother’s jewels, she wouldn’t run. She still held on to the necklace she’d asked for earlier. But the earrings remained in his pocket. The chances of her running off in the middle of the night were slim. She wanted to make sure she regained ownership of her family’s jewelry.
That is if they were truly hers.
Time would only tell.
