Tamed By Your Desire Part 30

Eliot stopped eating to stare at Lord Graham, laughter bubbling in his chest. He was being bribed. He could hardly believe it! A skilled extortionist himself, he was interested to hear Ridley's offer.

He leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth and fingers on the white tablecloth. "Oh weel... Red Alex rewards me well. Coin, animals, insight."

"But what do you do with insight? Have you a home to put such furnishings? Or fields to graze your beasts, for that matter? And what spend you coin on, but women and game?"

Eliot grinned. "What better way to spend coin?"

Lord Graham smiled broadly. "Why, investing it in yourself, your land, of course."

"I have no land."

"Alexander hasn't rewarded you with land...? Oh, I forgot, he owns nothing outright. Only that midden pile, Gealach..."

"Gealach is no midden pile. Red Alex makes a small fortune in port fees. And there's the traffic between Scotland and Ireland. And now that he's encouraged the tenants to cultivate the land, he's beginning to see some return. And Gealach has other... advantages."

"Advantages?"

Eliot smiled. "I canna be giving away our secrets, now can I?"

Lord Graham's brow furrowed in confusion. "But is it your secret, or Alexander Maxwell's?"

The man had a point. What was Gealach to Eliot? He'd helped take it and defend it and yet what did it afford him but a place to sleep and a few meals? Alex was the laird. Alex reaped all the benefits of ownership. In fact, he refused to parcel out any land until he held the deed to the estate. Why should Alex be the one? They weren't so different. Eliot's father hadn't been a laird, as Red Rowan had been, but then what had that meant to Alex? Red Rowan had left him no land or t.i.tles. He was no better than Eliot. Why should everything go to Alex?

"Do you want it?" Ridley asked.

"Want what?"

Ridley smiled patiently. "Why Gealach, of course."

Eliot's pulse skipped a beat. This was unexpected. He'd expected many things, but not to be offered an estate. He shook his head slowly. "I'm no fool. No lord would give an estate to a common outlaw."

"True..." Ridley leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his belly. "Not right away, that is. I would first appoint you warden of Gealach. You would guard it and protect it for me, as master in my absence."

Eliot's heart grew swollen with desire. All his life he'd known he deserved better and would've had better if he were a whole man. It should've been Alex that lost his arm. Instead he was heralded as a hero. And it had been as such since. Alex was the best at everything. Only Eliot knew, if he'd two arms, he could be better. Women wanted Alex and men respected and followed him. Eliot repulsed them. Men sneered at him and he had to buy his women. But to have Gealach-to take Gealach from Alex-was a heady thought.

But still he said nothing. Ridley was using him. Not that Eliot minded being used, if the price was right. But he must not appear overeager.

Ridley raised his brows, leaning forward slightly. "Is this inducement enough for you to seek a new master?"

"Perhaps." Eliot picked his teeth idly, inspecting his discovery. "What would you require of me? I wilna kill Red Alex."

"Murder isn't necessary... well, at least not Alexander." Ridley looked idly over his shoulder at Carlisle, who peeked through a hole at the back of the tent, thoroughly engrossed in whatever he spied.

Eliot sat quietly, waiting for Ridley to go on. After a moment he did.

"Alexander Maxwell has kidnapped my sister away from her betrothed, Lord Carlisle."

Eliot raised his brows, interested. Apparently, Ridley didn't realize the kidnapping was unsuccessful and that Fayth Graham ran freely about the west march. Eliot wouldn't be the one to inform him.

"Does he still have her? She's slippery, that one-p.r.o.ne to escape. She likes to dress as a lad and call herself Hugh."

Eliot froze, his gaze riveted on Ridley. "Hugh, ye say?"

Ridley smiled. "I see that sounds familiar."

That rotten b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Eliot could barely contain his fury. So Alex thought to hide it from everyone, or did he? How many knew? Skelley certainly, the lack-wit leech, definitely. The little b.u.g.g.e.r boy, Laine, probably even knew. Everyone but Eliot. Alex trusted him with nothing. Which also meant he wouldn't share in the spoils of this endeavor. That lying, cheating-

"Well?" Ridley prompted him out of his thoughts.

Eliot held out his hand, his expression grim. "Aye, my lord. I'm in. What would ye have me do?"

0="11"11.

FAYTH RESTED AGAINST the wall of Alex's chest as they traveled in silence across the bogs and forests. They didn't have another horse for Fayth to ride and even if they had, it was doubtful Fayth could have sat in a saddle all day. Alex was staying away from the firth, he told her, in case Ridley watched the most direct route to Gealach. They'd left the cave yesterday afternoon and ridden until long past dark, finally stopping to rest when Fayth was no longer able to suppress her moans of agony and exhaustion.

The short rest had done her some good, but they were back at it again today, and dark was falling. She hoped they would stop soon, though none of them seemed inclined to. Fayth's arm ached dully and she felt frail and empty, but her head was clear and she no longer burned and shook with fever. Her captor/protector, however, was another matter. She chanced a look up at him from beneath her lashes. His face was flushed with fever and he seemed ready to collapse. This was her doing. She'd shot him and now it would fester and he would die.

Her father would have been so proud.

Her teeth clenched at the thought. She no longer wanted to make her father, or anyone else, proud. Except perhaps herself. And she'd done nothing of late to earn even her own pride. Alex was not at all the man she'd expected and though she was still uncertain of many things, it was clear he was inherently a good, honorable man. She should tell him about Ridley and all his scheming. She owed him that much, but she was afraid he'd think it a lie or trick.

He felt the movement of her head against his chest and glanced down at her. "Do you need to stop?"

It set her heart fluttering every time he looked at her that way. She wished he wouldn't, it made everything that much more confusing. And why was he so gentle with her? She could not understand him. She was his enemy. Before recent events, had their roles been reversed, she could not say she would have been so charitable.

His eyes were fever bright, but still the deepest blue she'd ever seen. He hadn't shaved in days. Dark reddish-brown whiskers shadowed his chin and jaw and upper lip-nearly a short beard. She'd thought he was fetching, clean shaven, but the beard made him seem older, more worldly, accentuating wide, sensual lips.

She quickly lowered her eyes. She tried to speak, but her mouth was dry. She cleared her throat and rasped, "Could we stop?"

He called to the others. He handed her down to Davie, who settled her against a rock and left to tend Alex's shoulder. As usual, Alex tried to insist Davie tend her arm first. And, as usual, the leech pretended not to hear him. When Alex pushed at his shoulder to get his attention, Davie merely looked at him blankly, as if he didn't understand, though he appeared to understand most of everything else Alex said.

Skelley had disappeared into the trees with Biddy. Fayth turned her attention back to Alex and Davie. The leech had a fire going and was heating water to brew one of his concoctions. Meanwhile, he helped Alex out of his jack and shirt. Fayth wished she could see what was going on. She craned her neck, but Davie's back blocked Alex's wound. Only his good shoulder and a long muscular arm were visible. Like most of his exposed skin it was marred with twisted silvery scars.

Fayth didn't want to care about his shoulder. But he'd nursed her through a fever and stayed with her. He claimed he owed her for sparing his life. But she'd not spared his life. She'd never been able to take it. She frowned, thinking again of Diana Carlisle. The girl had been haunting her since her mind cleared. What had she meant to Alex? Alex had told Fayth that he'd offered for Gealach through marriage. Diana had said he'd called her his moon. Fayth pondered the meaning of these things, watching Davie as he dipped a wooden cup into the heated water and turned back to Alex. Fayth started at the strangled roar wrenched from Alex-abruptly cut short.

That's it. Grabbing the rock with her good hand, she pulled herself to standing. Her head swam and her stomach turned. She leaned against the rock until her vision cleared. Her stomach was still fluttery when she started toward the men, but she was determined to regain her independence. Her legs felt weak and wobbly, and she stopped three times to lean against a tree before she traversed the short distance to Alex and Davie.

She eased her way around Davie and what she saw sent her vision clouding and her stomach roiling all over again. She fell, landing with a plop on her backside. The ground was padded with fallen leaves and soft from rain, but it still sent painful vibrations up her arm.

She opened her eyes a crack and saw Davie scowling at her. He waved her away, then went back to his work, not waiting to see if she obeyed. Fayth bit her lip and forced herself to look at Alex's wound again. Fresh blood ran down his arm, mixed with a thick yellow discharge. Davie had cut open the st.i.tches and poured his boiling mixture into it. What he appeared to be doing now, Fayth observed, quickly averting her eyes, was cutting away the rotting flesh. She pressed her hand to her mouth, praying she wouldn't be sick or faint.

When she could breathe again, she dropped her hand. Davie watched her critically and with a touch of annoyance.

"Is he going to die?" she asked. The thought of Alex dying should not cause her such alarm, just the same her heart pounded painfully, waiting for Davie's answer.

The leech shrugged, gesturing again with his b.l.o.o.d.y knife for her to leave.

Alex's eyes opened a crack. "Davie's working hard to ensure I do, it seems. It feels like he's cutting my heart out with his wee knife."