Read Online An English Bride In Scotland by Lynsay Sands - Free Book Online

was still waiting where he’d left her. She looked unharmed but anxious, and he couldn’t help noting that for all she was stalwart about not complaining and so on, she did seem overly nervous a lot of the time. On the other hand, Ross supposed the possibility of having your maidenhood breached and someone coming up on you while you were relieving yourself were worthy of anxiety.
    Taking her arm, he started to urge her back the way they’d come, but she dug her feet in.
    “Oh, but I still have to—” She cut herself off and blushed.
    “Aye. Ye will. I just want to fetch the men,” he assured her, trying to get her moving again.
    “The men?” Annabel squawked with dismay, digging in her heels.
    “Aye. We can stand around ye and be sure no one creeps up on ye again,” Ross explained. It seemed perfectly reasonable to him. But judging by the horror that covered her face at the suggestion, she didn’t agree.
    “My lord, surely you do not expect me to . . . with men standing around me?” she asked as if he’d suggested she do it in the village square for all to see . . . and naked.
    “Well, they won’t be able to see anything,” he assured her with amusement. Damned if he’d let his men look on her cute little derriere as she knelt in the bushes. “They’ll be on the other side of the bushes, but there to stop anyone else approaching.”
    Annabel was shaking her head before he’d finished. “I cannot possibly—not while I know your men are all standing around listening to me . . . I just cannot,” she said helplessly.
    “It’s pissen, lass,” he said helpfully since she seemed unable to voice the word herself. “It’s a pissen yer needing. Ye can say the word. I’ll no think less o’ ye fer it.”
    Annabel opened her mouth, closed it, and then simply shook her head again.
    Ross sighed. If she couldn’t even say the damned word, there was no way she was going to do it with guards standing but feet away. He glanced around, considering what to do, then nodded. “Right. Then come here.”
    “Where are we—?” Her question died as he led her to a bush at the stream’s edge and paused.
    “Ye do it here,” he said releasing her arm and moving three or four feet away to turn his back to her. “And I’ll stand guard here. That way yer front and back are safe and we can both keep an eye on the sides.”
    Ross waited for either agreement or the rustle of her adjusting her clothes, but neither sounded. Resisting the urge to look back and see what she was doing, he asked, “Yer no’ doing it, are ye?”
    “Umm . . . nay, not yet,” she muttered, then paused, cleared her throat, and asked, “Do you think you could whistle, my lord?”
    “Whistle?” He did glance around then. She was standing where he’d left her, looking uncomfortable, but still upright, not down on her haunches with her skirt hiked up around her waist.
    Annabel grimaced apologetically. “It would help if you did.”
    Sighing, Ross shook his head, but turned away and began to whistle. He was wishing though, that she’d just hurry up and get it done. He still had some pissen of his own to do. So, he was more than a little relieved when she cleared her throat a moment later and murmured, “We can return to the clearing.”
    Ross walked her back to where the men were setting up camp, had a word with Gilly and Marach, telling them both what had happened. He then ordered them to keep on eye on Annabel, and ordered the other men to search the area to be sure whoever had come up on his wife had left.
    Ross suspected it had been another traveler, on foot, or camped nearby looking for their own spot to take care of private matters, but neither he nor any of his men came across anyone. He found the trail again that he’d been following earlier, but it continued only for another ten feet before disappearing at the water’s edge. There was no sign of a boat having come aground there. He doubted the stream was even deep enough