Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

OCTAVIAN brEATHED A sigh of relief the moment he drew aside the curtain and was hit in the face by brightest sunlight. Syd was still fast asleep, for this ordeal and their impending wedding had left her exhausted.

He turned back to her, his heart warming as he studied her vibrant form while she slept.

With the curtain drawn aside, the sun's rays spilled into the room and shone across their bed. The light seemed to wrap around her, illuminating her mass of golden-red curls so that the gloriously flowing tumble shimmered like sunlight upon a golden meadow.

She had the sweetest body, too.

He saw much of it since she had tossed off the covers as the room began to warm and now slept atop them. Her slender legs were exposed to his view as her shift tangled about her thighs. He liked that he knew her body so well, even though he had yet to touch her intimately. But he had seen plenty because of her stubborn determination to keep nothing between them, whether allegorically, metaphorically, or actually.

A knock sounded at their door.

Syd made not the slightest stir.

Octavian knew it was likely a maid bringing in their breakfast tray, but he grabbed his pistol and went to the door. "Who is it?"

"Yer breakfast, m'lord," a youngish sounding voice replied.

He kept his pistol hidden as he unlatched the door and cautiously opened it.

"Good morning, m'lord," the maid, who could not have been more than nineteen, said as she entered the chamber and set the tray on the table. She had an ample figure that she displayed to greatest advantage and a less than innocent look in her eyes. "Oh, yer wife's still sleepin'."

"Yes." He remained at the door to encourage the girl to take her leave. "Our travels have tired her out."

She regarded him with a surprisingly sexual frankness, slowly raking her gaze over his chest since he had hastily tossed on his shirt but not bothered to button it up. "I doubt it is the travel that is tiring her out," the girl remarked, her gaze drifting lower as she eyed him quite avidly. "I'm available if she's too done in to accommodate ye."

He dismissed her.

Was he the only fool who took wedding vows seriously? He was glad Syd had not been awake to hear the exchange because she was already worried about his remaining faithful to her over the next nine months. They had stopped at reputable inns along the way, but even in these establishments there were maids who were not shy about propositioning him.

He had given little thought to these sort of offers during his bachelor days, sometimes acting on them and sometimes not. But he no longer considered himself free to do as he pleased. They were not married yet, but he intended to remain faithful to Syd throughout his life.

It would not be a hardship for him since Syd was everything he needed in a wife.

But one had to take small steps with her and slowly get her used to the idea that their marriage would not be temporary. After latching the door, he crossed to the table and peeked under the salvers that covered their food.

Steam poured out as he lifted the lids, and the aroma wafting toward him made his mouth water. Kippers, eggs, and baked scones still hot from the oven were all to be washed down with a freshly brewed pot of tea.

He approached Syd and woke her with a kiss to her brow. "Time to get up, love."

She yawned and stretched, then sat up with a light grumble. "I could sleep the entire day away. What time is it?"

"Already past seven, I'll wager. You'll have plenty of time to rest once we are in the carriage."

She smiled at him when he sat on the bed beside her and gave her cheek a light caress. "Octavian, you woke me with a kiss."

He nodded. "It felt right."

"And you called me by an endearment."

"You are to be my wife. Should I not?"

"My parents never woke me with endearments. In truth, I don't recall them ever entering my bedroom for any reason. I was put to bed and awakened by a nanny when I was younger, and later by my governess. When I outgrew my need for a governess, it was maids who attended me. My mother never opened her eyes before noon. My father often did not come home until well after I was up and attending to my lessons."

"I'm sorry they were so neglectful of you, Syd. Do you mind that I kissed you?"

"Not at all." She smiled at him again. "Can we add this to one of your rules? I know how you adore them."

He laughed. "Yes, we shall make a new list for our marriage. Top rule shall be to kiss you every morning."

She threw her arms around his neck. "That is perfect. Shall I do the same for you?"

"Kiss me awake? No, Syd."

"Oh." She dropped her arms and cast him a disappointed look. "I see."

"No, you do not see at all. I am trained for battle. My instincts are to lash out and strike whoever sneaks up on me, so do not stick your face in mine until I am awake. Then you may kiss me to your heart's content."

"And you won't complain?"

"No, Syd. I am not ever going to complain about your kissing me." He took her hand in his. "Come on, let's eat. I'm famished."

She inhaled. "That does smell good."

They ate their breakfast, then took turns washing and dressing. Octavian liked helping Syd each morning with the hooks, tapes, and lace ties of her gowns. Once they were back in London, she would have ample assistance from the maids on the Huntsford staff who would likely do a better job of helping her put herself together. Still, this time spent alone with her was something he would always remember and cherish.

He watched Syd pin her hair in a simply styled chignon. As soon as she was done, he gathered their few belongings and carried them to their waiting carriage. Their driver, a reliable man of about forty years by the name of Felix Henshaw cast him an amiable smile. "Mighty kind of yer lordship to pay for my room at the inn. I could have taken a bed above the stables."

"We pushed hard yesterday, Mr. Henshaw. I appreciated your effort."

"Thank ye, m'lord."

Syd, who was only a few steps behind him, now greeted their driver with cheer. "Good morning, Mr. Henshaw," she said, handing him up a small basket.

The man took it from her with a questioning look. "Mornin', m'lady. What's this?"

"We'll be moving quickly again today, so I had the inn's cook make up a picnic basket for you. I had them make up one for Captain Thorne and myself, as well," she said, now handing Octavian the other small basket to place in the carriage. "It is nothing extravagant, some fruit, cheese, and a loaf of bread to hold us until we stop again. The food was particularly good here, don't you think, Mr. Henshaw?"

"Aye, m'lady. It was."

"Good idea, Syd," Octavian muttered, knowing that having provisions would be useful if they ran into trouble and had to hide out. Today was the day when they would either be married or have their plans thwarted because Sir Henry had caught up to them.

He placed his hands around Syd's waist to help her into the carriage, his body immediately responding to her softness. There was nothing to be done about his feelings for her other than go along with them. He would have time in the carriage to contemplate why his heart had chosen her.

He thought Syd would close her eyes once they were on the road again, but she remained awake and began to fret instead. "Octavian…"

He stifled a groan. "What is on your mind, Syd?"

She regarded him as the carriage jounced along the hills and dales. "I'm glad it is you that I am marrying."

He arched an eyebrow and smiled in relief. Is this all that concerned her? "So am I."

"No regrets?"

He shook his head. "Not a one."

"Do you think my father and Sir Henry are waiting for us in Gretna Green?"

He did not wish to lie to her. "It is a possibility. This is why we are going to pull off the road a short distance outside of town and I will scout the area first."

She nodded. "Yes, that is prudent. I'll go with you."

He sighed. "No, Syd. It is safer if I scout on my own and then come back for you once I am certain all is clear."

Obviously, she did not care for the idea since she was now frowning at him. "You would leave me alone?"

"I would leave you in the capable care of Mr. Henshaw, both of you well hidden. It would only be for a short time, just long enough for me to search the area and make certain Sir Henry and your father are not lying in wait for us."

She nibbled her lip. "I don't think I like that plan at all."

He sighed in resignation. "Would you care to tell me why it is a bad plan?"

Was she going to turn helpless and simpering, afraid to be without him even for fifteen minutes? Syd was a force of nature. If he were Sir Henry, he would sooner face a Royal Navy captain the size of a big ox than an angry Syd.

Why was she fretting? It was a good plan.

"If I am with you," she said, her lips once again pursed, "then we can simply march straight to the blacksmith's shop and marry right away. You would not have to waste time doubling back to find me. What if you forgot where you hid me?"

"I am not going to forget where I hid you," he grumbled. "I scout alone. You will only be a hindrance. What if they are there and you are seen? You cannot run in that gown. Also, they might attempt to shoot me. I cannot risk them hitting you."

"They won't dare shoot you if there is a chance of striking me. Sir Henry wants to marry me. In truth, I think he purposely encouraged my father to run up his debts just so he could possess me. He always had an unnatural way of looking at me. The man is vile and manipulative. Ugh, I shiver just thinking of his odious touch. So you see, you are safer if I am with you."

Oh, lord.

She had that stubborn look in her eye.

He emitted a soft growl to mark his displeasure. "I am not taking you with me, Syd. If it is just me, I can fight back however I wish. Or run, if I wish. Everything changes if I have to worry about you, too. Why make it easy for them to grab you? For the love of heaven, will you not humor me, just this once?"

He could see the request pained her.

She had already decided to stay close to him.

If he left her behind, she would follow.

He was frustrated more than angry, for this was Syd. This is the girl he had chosen to love. Well, his heart had selected her knowing full well she was fiercely independent and willful. It wasn't her fault that he loved her.

"Let's see what happens once we reach Gretna Green," she suggested, no doubt hoping he would see the error of his ways after a few hours of stewing over their difference of opinion.

Rather than fight this losing battle, Octavian decided to spend the time figuring out how to best protect her while keeping her by his side.

In truth, she was agile and resourceful.

And what she had said made sense, for once he determined the village was safe to enter, he would not need to double back and fetch her since she would already be with him.

It was not the worst idea he had ever heard. Indeed, it was not terrible at all. But to his mind, it wasn't the best one available to them.

However, he had to admit there was a risk to leaving her behind.

A travel coach and team of horses was no easy thing to hide. There was also a chance that if Syd– not that it would ever happen– actually obeyed him and remained wherever he put her, she might be found and captured while he was off scouting.

Mr. Henshaw, although amiable and diligent, was in no shape to fight off assailants. Nor did Octavian want their driver to risk his life protecting her. Protecting Syd was his responsibility and he was not going to delegate it to anyone else.

Perhaps she was right to insist on going with him.

"All right," he said with another resigned sigh. "I'll take you with me when I scout."

She cast him a dazzling smile. "Thank you, Octavian. You won't regret the decision."

He shook his head and laughed. "Oh, I'm fairly certain I will."

As the miles rolled by and the road turned smoother, Syd fell asleep.

Octavian watched her, marveling how angelic she looked.

But he did not dwell on her kissable lips or long, sooty eyelashes because he needed to remain alert. There were other conveyances on the road now. They passed several carriages and riders on horseback heading south, and were joined by others heading north.

A few riders galloped ahead of their carriage but Octavian saw nothing suspicious about these men. They appeared to be nothing more than lone riders on their way to Scotland and did not take any particular interest in their hired carriage.

"Syd, we are approaching the next coaching inn. When we arrive, I want you to remain in the carriage while I enter the common room and look around. I'll obtain a private dining room for us since it is best we are not seen by all who come and go. The place will be busy since it is midday and plenty of travelers will be stopping to dine as well as rest their horses."

"So I am to wait for you until you return to fetch me?"

"Yes, same as I plan to do once we reach Gretna Green. We do not enter that village until I am certain Sir Henry has not set a trap for us."

"That again. I've told you that I am going with you."

"And here? Now? So help me, don't you dare poke your head out of this carriage before I know we are safe at this coaching inn."

She rolled her eyes. "It is an empty threat. I know you will never hurt me. Besides, I have every intention of obeying you. It is a fine idea. I only give you trouble when I think your ideas are second best."

"Second best? Second best ." Was his heart still aching for this girl? He wanted to throttle her just now. He had years of battle experience and she had none, yet she had the gall to tell him that his plan was weak? "I am one of the finest ship commanders in the Royal Navy. I stayed alive and kept my crew alive because of my tactical prowess. I know how to keep alert to an enemy attack. In fact, I've been in more battles than you have had dances during your come-out Season."

She snorted. "That isn't saying much since no one but you ever asked me to dance."

"Others would have asked if you hadn't frightened the wits out of every man who approached you with talk of cadavers and the science of blood splatters. How could they not worry you planned to experiment on them next?"

"I would never hurt a living soul!"

"That remains to be seen," he muttered, climbing down from the carriage. "Never mind, just stay put."

A quick search revealing nothing worrisome, which meant either they were far ahead of Sir Henry and Syd's father or they would hit trouble at Gretna Green because those two were already there and waiting to ambush them.

Sir Henry did not like to be crossed.

Being that he was so taken with Syd, it was not outside the realm of possibility that he would race across England to prevent her from marrying someone else. In truth, it was not much of a stretch at all. The man was greedy and malevolent. If he saw something he wanted, he would never relent until he'd grabbed it.

Octavian returned to the carriage and held out his hand to assist Syd down. "All safe. Come along, but keep your head down."

She gave him a big-eyed stare. "I know what to do, Octavian. What do you think of this bonnet? Very clever of me to put it on, don't you think?"

The hideous hat completely hid her lush hair, but it could not hide the breathtaking charm of her face. Her big eyes were ensorcelling and her lips were soft as rose petals.

"Is that one of Adela's bonnets?"

She nodded. "She never wears it, so I took it with me. It hides my face rather well, don't you think?"

"Not all that well. You still look beautiful and people will notice." Lord, what was wrong with him? This was no time to be tossing her compliments like a besotted schoolboy. "Keep your head down as much as possible."

She cast him a soft, vulnerable smile. "You think I am beautiful?"

"Sometimes," he muttered, giving her nose a playful tweak. "Mostly, you are aggravating. Being pretty does not excuse your irritating behavior."

She grinned when he ended by giving her cheek a light caress. "You are not always a prize yourself, you know."

Octavian chuckled. "I know. Come along, wife . Let's eat and get back on the road."

He helped her down, his heartbeat quickening as it always did whenever he touched her. "The hat is growing on me. You look adorable in it."

He could see why Sir Henry was infatuated with her. Yes, any man with half a brain would fight for this gem of a girl. That old goat was reprehensible in many ways, but no one would ever accuse him of having bad taste in women.

Octavian did not know whether Sir Henry's wives had died in childbirth, which was a common enough occurrence, sadly. Or had he treated them roughly? Rumors circulated about him regarding his efficiency in enforcing his debts. Was he that efficient with his wives? He could not allow Syd anywhere near that man.

They attracted little notice while being led to one of the private dining rooms, ate quickly, and were off again as soon as the horses had been adequately tended.

A light mist began to fall as they crossed into Scotland. Syd scooted over to sit by his side as soon as they crossed the border. "Octavian, how far now?"

"Only a few more miles. We'll reach Gretna Green within the next hour for certain, even if the road turns to mud. But let us hope it stays nothing more than a drizzling mist." It was the middle of the afternoon and there was still plenty of daylight remaining, but any pleasured anticipation fled when he heard a rumble of hooves behind them. "Syd, I'm sure there is nothing to be alarmed about…however, just as a precaution." He reached over to the seat bench she had just vacated opposite his and raised the seat. "Spare compartment. All these Carville coaches have them. Climb in and get down. Sorry, but you have to get flat on the floor and curl up in a tight ball. We're about to be stopped."

She inhaled sharply. "Sir Henry and his men?"

He stopped her when she attempted to poke her head out the window to get a better look. "Syd! I don't want them to see you."

"Sorry." She nodded and climbed into the spare compartment. "There must be at least thirty of them, if the thunderous sound of those horses is any indication."

"Yes, no less than twenty men for certain. But it isn't Sir Henry, I'll wager. That old goat would not have chased us with so many men. It is likely Scottish reivers. I'm going to throw this blanket over you, too. Stay hidden. Do not move a muscle and do not talk."

"All right, but give me a weapon."

He hesitated a moment, then handed over the pistol he always kept hidden in the lip of his boot. "You are not to use it unless they fire first and actually shoot me."

She gasped. "That is ridiculous. The entire point is to prevent your getting shot."

"No, the point is to keep you alive. They will shoot us both if you fire at them."

He carried another pistol in a sheath within his uniform jacket, not to mention the knife he also carried in his other boot, but he had no intention of drawing either weapon.

His Royal Navy uniform was his best protection.

If these were common reivers, he hoped to talk his way out of any trouble. He was in a uniform familiar to these men. Many of the Highland clans had fought alongside the British during the Napoleonic Wars. Napoleon had long ago been defeated. Octavian had been but a boy at the time and too young to be sent off to fight.

However, he had engaged in many battles during his time as captain of a first-rate naval vessel. He was still in active service in the Royal Navy, for once a naval officer always a naval officer. He had made his fortune capturing enemy vessels and pirate ships, but was now assigned by the Admiralty to supervise the building of the next generation of battle ships for the royal fleet.

He was familiar with the Scots and their sometimes odd ways since a large number of his crew happened to be from Scotland. In fact, several of his officers went by the name of Armstrong, Rutherford, and Kerr.

He would toss out their names and hope someone among the reivers acknowledged a connection. All he needed was for Syd to keep her composure and not go at them like a raging banshee. "Get down now, Syd. I'm closing you in."

"If I were a man, you would have me fighting beside you," she muttered while obeying him.

"But you are not a man. Need I warn you what these oafs might do to you if they are of a mind to be craven? Death would be the easy way out. For the love of heaven, just keep quiet no matter what you hear."

It was the firebrand Syd who glared back at him as he tossed the hideous bonnet in with her, placed the blanket over her head, and then put the seat bench back in place.

Lord, just shut her up and keep her safe.

He commanded Henshaw to stop the carriage and not draw a weapon. "M'lord, they'll shoot us down like dogs if we don't fight back."

"We cannot take down all of them. Just stay calm, Mr. Henshaw. These are reivers, just looking to rob us. Give over whatever they ask. I'll reimburse you for any loss."

"What of Lady Thorne?"

"My wife is hidden. You and I are traveling alone, assuming they bother to ask. Let's hope they did not see us at the coaching inn where we last dined."

Octavian tamped down his frustration as he waited for their leader to approach him. For good measure, he sat atop the bench where Syd was now hiding because he did not want her lifting that lid for any reason.

These border reivers now surrounded his carriage and two of them took hold of the reins so that Mr. Henshaw would not be tempted to drive off. They ordered the frightened driver down from his perch. "Do as they ask, Mr. Henshaw. It is all right."

A big, red-haired man swaggered toward Octavian. "I'll be askin' ye to get out, too."

"As you wish," Octavian said and promptly complied. "Just be aware you are interfering with Royal Navy business. I am on my way to Greenock to meet with your shipbuilders."

The leader took another moment to inspect him. "Ye're a calm one, ain't ye?" he muttered after walking around him.

"Let's hope I have reason to be," Octavian said with an arch of his brow. "All I have with me are documents."

"What sort of documents?" the leader asked.

"Plans for a new battleship. Touch those and that is treason. You'll be betraying your own countrymen as well as the English."

"I have no interest in documents. Do ye have any gold on ye?"

Octavian held his arms out wide. "No, just weapons that I hope you will allow me to keep. I have no intention of using them on you. I have some medals, but I will kill you if you take those. They were hard fought for and earned in battle."

"Ye're not to tell us what we can and canno' take," a young man growled as he dismounted and approached. By his resemblance to their leader, Octavian judged the man was his son or other close male relative, a younger brother perhaps.

The leader stopped the lad with a stern warning. "Angus, we do no' take his medals. Ye'd understand if ye'd ever fought in a war, ye young whelp." He turned back to Octavian. "I was in the Scots Greys."

Octavian nodded. "A fine regiment."

"The finest," the man said with a look of pride. "What's yer name, Captain?"

"Octavian Thorne."

"Thorne? Captain of the Dover Mist?" a man called out from amid the group. "Aw, me eyesight is wretched. Forgive me, Captain. I dinna recognize ye."

"Jamie Armstrong, is that you?" Octavian was never happier to see one of his petty officers, the very one he had insisted on promoting over the pampered son of a powerful English lord. In the end, both men had received their promotions because not even the Admiralty wanted to tangle with the Earl of Oxbridge, a royal favorite. His useless son was given a senior rank he did not deserve and Octavian thought up ways to keep him out of contact with the crew who despised the young lord for his vindictive and heartless ways.

Not that Octavian was soft by any means.

In truth, he was quite demanding of his men.

But he had never raised a fist to them or ever ordered any of them lashed for petty offenses. His father had never raised a hand to any of his sons, and this was how Octavian treated his crew. They obeyed him out of respect, not because he threatened to beat them.

"Aye, Captain. I'm honored ye remembered me," Jamie called back, his voice obviously filled with pride.

"I wouldn't ever forget one of my ablest officers. How are you faring on dry land?"

"Not all that well, Captain," he said with a laugh as he dismounted and limped toward him. "As ye see, we've had to turn to reiving to make it through this season's failed crops. Our sheep got sick and many of them had to be put down, so we dinna have much wool to sell. We're hoping next season will be better."

"Sorry to hear it."

The young man their leader had called Angus now emitted a scornful laugh. "Are ye truly sorry, Captain? I doubt ye give a fig about us, even though ye have our Jamie believing yer lies."

The leader frowned at Angus again. "Shut up, lad. Ye know not what ye are talking about. All right, Captain. We'll let ye pass. But would ye have any coins to spare for us?"

"I'm traveling to Greenock with just enough to get me there and back to London. I cannot stop you if you are of a mind to take it. But I hope you will accept this proposal…since I already have banking arrangements set up from my prior visits to Greenock, upon my arrival there I will purchase twenty prime wool sheep for you. Is that enough to replenish your stock?"

The leader held out his hand to Octavian. "Fair enough, Captain. You have a deal. Never let it be said Samuel Armstrong is not a man of his word."

Angus cursed. "Are ye daft, Father? He's going to ride off and never think about us again. He'll have a good laugh with his friends, recounting what fools we were to believe him."

Jamie gave the lad a cuff to his head. "Captain Thorne gave us his word. I'd trust him sooner than I'd trust you, ye insolent pup. Good to see ye again, Captain."

Octavian shook Jamie's grimy hand. "I'll be at the Greenock shipyards for several weeks. Would you be willing to work there if I found you a job?"

"Around ships? Aye, Captain. I would. My family needs the money and I would be grateful for it."

Octavian nodded. "Where can I reach you if I have obtained employment for you?"

Angus growled. "Ye're going to give away our location now?"

Jamie cuffed him again. "He has to be told in order to deliver the sheep to us. Aye, I'll be telling him where we live. The man is honorable. He'll no' betray us to the authorities."

"He is the authority!" Angus cried in disgust.

Well, that was true in that Octavian was serving in the Royal Navy. But he was not going to turn these men in for trying to feed their starving families. Most travelers could afford to lose a few coins.

Angus was a hothead but his father was a cool character and had not raised a fist to him or Henshaw. "I give you my oath that I will not give you away to the authorities so long as you do not kill or maim your victims. I'll turn a blind eye to robbery, but not cruelty."

"Fair enough," Samuel Armstrong said, offering his hand. "Safe travels, Captain Thorne."

Octavian climbed back into the carriage and did not release a breath until Henshaw had flicked the reins and gotten the team under way. In truth, he was amazed they had gotten out of the confrontation without incident.

He remained seated atop Syd's hiding spot until they were out of sight of the reivers, then lifted the lid and raised the blanket off her now that it was safe to do so. "Syd, are you all right?"

Beads of perspiration had settled across her brow and her cheeks were a bright pink. "Air," she said, taking a deep breath and then another. "It was hot in there."

"I know. I'm sorry. I did not see any other way out of that encounter but to hide you." He took the pistol from her hand and placed it back in the lip of his boot before helping her out of the secret compartment.

She sat beside him, settling on the seat bench with a grunt. "That Angus fellow was a hothead. I did not like him at all."

"Hopefully, we will never encounter him again. I think he might have liked you all too well and wanted to keep you."

She laughed. "Why? Because I am hotheaded, too? No, even these fiery, thoughtless hounds are looking for biddable wives. No one wants a wife like me."

"Except for me."

Her smile faded.

"For the moment," she said in response.

He did not bother to correct her.

Syd was so drained after being stuffed in that hidden compartment, she would not believe he might want her forever. Besides, they had more trouble in the offing. Those reivers had not gone back into hiding but were following them at a leisurely pace into Gretna Green.

"Bollocks," he muttered, fearing there would be another confrontation once these reivers realized he had hidden Syd from them.

There was no way to hide her now.

Their best chance was to head straight for the blacksmith shop and get the wedding ceremony over and done before the reivers caught up to them and realized he had tricked them.

Bloody blazes.

Now he had not only Sir Henry to worry about, but these Scottish thieves, as well.

He would have to think of something to distract and deter both parties. If Sir Henry and Syd's father were lying in wait for them, perhaps he could talk Jamie and the other Armstrongs into helping him out. After all, what Scot did not love a good brawl?

But it was no sure thing they would join in his fight to marry Syd.

After all, he had lied to them by hiding her and this counted as a lie of omission. Could he rely on Jamie Armstrong or the Armstrong laird understanding why he had to do it?

What if they chose to turn on him and helped Syd's father steal her back?

He glanced at Syd.

Most women would be fluttering and crying by now.

But not Syd.

She was spoiling for a fight.

What would Syd do if they tried to set a hand on her?