To Marry A Scottish Laird Read Online Free PDF

and almost winced when she heard the disapproval in her own voice. She was supposed to be a boy, after all, and a young boy would probably listen with eager glee rather than disapproval. But Cam only chuckled at her censure.
    “Oh, come, lad. Ye’d have stopped too had she been wiggling her bosoms in yer face and dropping in yer lap to bounce about.”
    Joan managed a smile and merely said, “Aye, well, ’tis fortunate for me that she was so friendly and slowed your journey else I may not have survived my encounter with Toothless and his friends.”
    “Toothless?” Cam asked with confusion.
    “The big man who was beating me when ye came upon us,” she explained.
    “Ah.” Cam nodded, and then shrugged. “I did no’ see his face. I hit him from behind.”
    “Oh, aye,” she murmured, and stood to walk to the river and kneel at its edge to dip her hands in and remove the grease from the rabbit meat off her hands. When Cam joined her a heartbeat later, she asked, “Are your brothers younger than you?”
    Cam glanced to her with surprise. “Aye. How did ye ken?”
    She shrugged. “If they were older your parents would not fret so about heirs. As the eldest though, you inherit the land and title . . . so an heir becomes more important.”
    “Aye. Or I could leave it to one o’ me brothers and their heirs,” he pointed out, then straightened and shook his hands, removing the worst of the water as he complained, “I should no’ be tired but I am.”
    “You’re healing,” she said quietly. “You’ll tire easily over the next while.”
    “Aye, well, then I’d best sleep. We’ll leave at dawn on the morrow.”
    Joan mumbled agreement and watched him walk back to the fire. He unwound his plaid as he went, wrapping it about himself like a blanket before lying down on his side, facing the fire. The sight made her wish she had a plaid of her own. It was the end of summer, warm during the day but cooler at night. It would have been nice to curl up in the heavy woolen cloth to sleep.
    She straightened, giving her own hands a shake, but then grimaced. Now that her hands were clean, the filth on her skin from the wrists up was more noticeable . . . and tomorrow they would be traveling again and gathering even more dust and dirt off the trail. Her gaze slid to the water almost longingly. A quick dip would be lovely. The night air was cool enough that the river water had felt almost warm in comparison when she’d washed her hands. If she moved a little distance up the shore and was quick . . .
    Joan glanced over her shoulder toward Cam, and then began to move silently along the riverside.
    Cam shifted restlessly and opened his eyes to peer into the fire. He was tired, but now that he was lying down, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. His body was exhausted, but his mind appeared to be rolling over his conversation with Jonas. He liked the boy. He was smart, capable and brave enough to take on this mammoth task on his own and that had earned his respect. Cam did not give respect unless it was earned, and the boy had earned it.
    Jonas had also proven himself in possession of honor. The lad could have just left him lying in the road. It certainly would have been a lot less trouble. He also could have stolen his horse and the heavy sack of coins Cam had earned during his summer of mercenary work. But while the saddle and sack had been removed from his mount, they had both been set neatly nearby, under a stack of underbrush to hide them from any would-be thieves.
    It had taken Cam a good bit of hunting to find the items. He’d actually begun to fear the boy had sold the one and taken the other when he’d stumbled over them. Every last coin was still in the sack too. Cam had checked. A sack of coins like that must have been a great temptation. It was more than the boy would probably see in his entire life, but the lad was no thief. He was also a skilled healer. Cam could tell that by the fact that he still lived.