He nuzzled her earlobe. “I think you could have me at your feet if you so wished,” he whispered.
“Bound and gagged, I’d hope,” she retorted, pushing away from him. “Now, do you plan to feed us or do you carry that bow only because it looks good?”
“Papa!” Kit yelled before Miles could answer. “I saw a rabbit!”
“I’m sure it’s waiting for me to come and slaughter it,” Miles said under his breath as Kit came thrashing toward them.
A sound from Elizabeth that could only be described as a giggle made Miles turn an astonished face toward her.
Elizabeth refused to look at him. “Where is the rabbit, Kit? Your brave father will face the animal, and perhaps we’ll get some supper, if not dinner.”
After an hour of walking, with Miles seeming more concerned with toying with Elizabeth’s fingers, they saw no more rabbits. It was later than she’d thought and it was growing dark—or perhaps the forest just seemed dark.
“We’ll camp here for the night. Kit, gather firewood.” When the child was gone, Miles turned to Elizabeth. “Don’t let him out of your sight. I’ll find us some game.” With that he slipped away into the forest.
As soon as Miles was gone, Elizabeth began to feel the isolation of the forest. She followed Kit, loading her arms with dry branches. She hadn’t noticed it before, but she felt as if eyes were watching her. In her brother’s house she’d learned to develop a sixth sense about men who hid in corners, ready to pounce on her.
“Are you frightened, Elizabeth?” Kit asked, his eyes wide.
“Of course not.” She forced a smile but she kept remembering all the stories she’d heard about the savagery of the Scots. They were wild people, torturers of little children.
“My papa will protect you,” Kit said. “He was given his spurs when he was just a boy. My Uncle Raine says Papa is one of the greatest knights in England. He won’t let anyone get you.”
She pulled the boy into her arms. “Your papa is indeed a great fighter. Did you know that three men attacked me a few days ago? Your papa slew them in minutes and he wasn’t even hurt.” For all the child’s bravado, Elizabeth could see that he was frightened. “I think your papa could fight off all the men of Scotland. There’s no one anywhere who is as brave and strong as your papa.”
A low chuckle made Elizabeth look around to see Miles holding two dead rabbits by their ears. “I thank you for the tribute, my lady.”
“Elizabeth was scared,” Kit explained.
“And you were right to comfort her. We must always protect our women. Would it be possible that you’d know how to skin rabbits, Elizabeth?”
She lowered Kit and took the rabbits with an air of confidence. “You’ll find that a Chatworth is no Montgomery lady to sit about on satin cushions and wait for the servants to bring her food.”
“You’ve described Stephen and Gavin’s wives perfectly. Come, Kit, let’s see if the Montgomery men can be useful.”
In a very short time, Miles and Kit had a fire going and Elizabeth had the rabbits skinned and skewered. Miles used his ax to drive stakes into the ground and set up a turnspit for the rabbits. Leaning back on his elbows, Miles idly watched the fire while Kit turned the meat.
“You seem very relaxed,” Elizabeth said, frowning, keeping her voice low. “We’re unprotected in a strange land, yet you build a fire. We can be seen for miles.”
He tugged on her skirt until she sat down, a few feet from him. “This land belongs to my brother and his wife, and if the MacArrans see us they’ll recognize the Montgomery leopards on my cloak. The Scots rarely kill women and children outright. You’ll be delivered to Stephen and all you’ll have to do is explain who you are.”
“But what has happened to your men?”
“Elizabeth, my men are gone with no trace of a fight. I would imagine they were escorted to Larenston, Bronwyn’s castle. Right now my concern is for the safety of you and Kit. When we reach Larenston and my men aren’t there, then I’ll worry. Kit! You’re allowing the meat to burn on one side.”
He moved closer to her. “Elizabeth, you’re as safe as you can be. I’ve scouted this area and seen no one. You’re cold,” he said when she shivered. He took the plaid from the ground behind her, pulled it around both their shoulders and drew her toward him.
“It’s only for warmth,” he said when she struggled against him, and refused to loosen his grip.
“I’ve heard that before!” she snapped. “The warmth is only the beginning. Do you enjoy forcing me?”
“I do not enjoy your hints that I’m like one of your brother’s slimy friends,” he snapped.
Elizabeth stopped struggling. “Perhaps life with Edmund has distorted my thinking a bit, but I don’t like to be pawed.”
“You’ve made that clear enough, but if we’re to survive the night I think we need each other’s warmth. Kit, break off a leg. It looks done to me.”
The rabbits were barely cooked inside, charred outside, but the three of them were too hungry to care.