Page 18 of Once Forbidden (MacKendimen Clan #2)

17

H e was being followed. He was certain of it now. The hairs on the back of his neck had started tingling just before sundown and now as he set up his camp for the night, he knew what that sign meant. As he watered Dubh in a stream off the path, he thought about what he would do.

Stars already filled the clear summer sky as he found a sheltered place where his horse could graze. Robert hobbled him with the reins and prepared a plain meal of oatcakes and cheese from the supplies he’d brought with him from Dunnedin. There was an abundance of food available in the forests and glens of both the MacKendimen and the MacKillop land and neither laird begrudged his people the use of those resources. He could have tracked and killed any number of small birds and game, but he had no interest in working that hard for his meal. A few oatcakes and he could retire until morning.

Well, he could have if he had not caught sight of movement far behind him on the path. Now he would need to discover who was following him. This far off the drovers’ lanes, he did not expect to find any of the clan or their cattle. Most were still in the summer grazing lands to the west of Dunnedin and would not return until the summer was done. Brodie’s men had just traveled to one of the temporary villages carrying supplies meant to last those who watched over the cattle the rest of the season.

Robert ate his meager meal and waited for the moon to hang lower in the sky to cover his movements through the woods. Soon, he checked his weapons and, with sword in hand, began stealthily creeping through the trees. Careful not to make noise, he made his way for many yards until he saw a small Highland pony tied to a tree. Searching nearby, he saw a figure on the ground, tucked beneath the branches of a low tree and rolled in plaid. In the dark, he could not make out anything more of the person or the plaid. Unfortunately, he lost the element of surprise that should have been his when he stepped on a large branch and the crunching crack of it breaking traveled through the night.

He froze and waited to find out if his shadow had also heard the noise. The quick movement of the figure assured him that his mistake was heard. With a mumbled curse, the figure jumped up and, still wrapped in the length of wool, ran off towards the path. Robert followed, cursing his stupidity under his breath. Within a few strides, he had caught up with his quarry and grabbed for the tartan material that now dragged behind. The person lurched and went down, first on their knees and then, with a muffled cry, they stumbled onto the ground.

It was the babe’s cry that shocked him. Robert stood, his mouth open in disbelief, listening to the squealing infant. He approached from behind and used the point of his sword to prod the person. When they did not move, he used his booted foot to turn them over. Even in the dim light, he knew Anice’s face. And he knew Craig’s cry, which now grew in volume and strength. Kneeling beside her still form, he lifted the babe from his place within his mother’s embrace, placed him up on his own shoulder, and then he checked Anice.

A bruise already swelled on her forehead; she must have hit her head on the ground or a rock as she tumbled. Seeing how she had cushioned Craig’s fall, he knew that had been her concern. He tapped her cheek but she did not respond. He sat back on his heels and tried to figure out what had happened.

Why in God’s holy name was she following him in the forest? Why was she camped out here, with her bairn, alone, this far from Dunnedin? None of this made sense and until she regained consciousness, none of it would. The babe finally quieted, sucking lightly on his thumb. When he had fallen back to sleep a few minutes later, Robert laid him carefully next to Anice on the ground. He traced his path back to her resting spot and gathered the few belongings he could find and led her pony back to her.

Checking to make certain the babe slept, Robert placed a blanket over the horse’s back. He found the sling she used to carry the bairn and put it around his neck as he’d seen her do. Once everything was ready, he lifted Anice from the ground and laid her over the horse, adjusting her as best he could. Then he placed the babe within the cocoon of plaid and led the pony back to his own camp.

Walking slowly so that she wasn’t jostled, it took a while to reach it. Once there, he spread his own plaid on the ground and laid the babe once more on it. Lifting Anice carefully off the pony, he cushioned her head as he laid her beside the bairn. He found his waterskin and tore a piece of a linen shirt in his bag to clean her forehead. The swelling concerned him, as did her lack of response when he tried to rouse her from her stupor. Doing what he could to help her, he realized he would have to wait for his answers, for he could think of no reason that would force Anice into the forest at night with her son.

The chill grew stronger and the babe began to stir in his place on the ground. Robert knew he needed to keep both mother and son warm so he tucked another blanket over Anice and lay the babe close to her. Taking a place on the other side of the babe, he moved closer to them, sharing the warmth of his own body. His stallion nickered and then settled, now content with the pony’s position nearby. Soon, the only sounds were those of the forest surrounding them and the soft breathing noises of Anice and her son. Sleep would not come to him, so Robert lay watching and listening until the sun broke over the horizon.

He did not know which woke him first, the wetness that pooled on his chest or the smell of the liquid that now seeped into his shirt. Mayhap it was neither of those, but the screeching sound the bairn made in his ear when he too felt the uncomfortable coldness due to peeing in his napkin. Whichever it was, it brought Robert’s short time of rest to an abrupt end. He rolled away and lifted the soggy babe away from Anice, hoping to keep her dry. Standing, he knew he needed to change the linens, but really had no idea how to do it. He found Anice’s bag and searched until he found some dry ones and another gown.

He moved quickly to get the babe warm and dry and then pulled off his own soaked shirt. Tugging a fresh one from his saddlebags and pulling it on, he picked up and held the little one in his arm. Moving off a bit from where Anice lay, still apparently senseless, he lifted the edge of his shirt and relieved himself in the bushes.

“Ye see, wee one? ’Tis much easier to lift yer kilt and piss on the ground.” Robert laughed for a moment at the babe’s disgruntled expression. “Ye will learn soon enough to stand and do this rather than soiling yer own clothes.” Finished, he carried the babe back towards Anice. “’Twill be much easier when ye wear but plaid and shirt and no’ these gowns and linens.”

The babe met his gaze with one of serious study and Robert laughed once more in amusement. This was the first look he’d had at Craig since that day in the yard and the babe had grown considerably since then. What had Anice called him? Oh, aye. Piglet. And that’s what he looked like with his plump cheeks and belly. The tuft of hair that stood straight up on his head gave claim to his mother’s coloring. Tired of staring at him, the babe began searching for his hand and the wet sucking noises warned Robert of his next impending problem. How and what would he feed the bairn?

He walked back over to where Anice lay and sat down next to her. Taking advantage of the babe’s fascination with his own fists, Robert tapped her gently on the cheek. She had not moved much at all through the night, but her breathing now changed and she began mumbling words he could not understand. Calling her name, he tried to rouse her.

“Anice? Anice? Ye must wake now. Come now, Anice, Craig is hungry and needs ye.”

The mention of her son’s name seemed to work, for her eyes fluttered and then opened. At first her gaze was empty but then she blinked several times, focusing on the trees above her. A loud groan filled the air as she reached for and felt the large lump on her head. Then her complexion turned ghastly and she began to gag. He helped her to sit up quickly, knowing just what was happening. Holding her shoulders, he supported her as her stomach reacted violently to her head injury. Robert had seen this many times when a man was knocked out while fighting. Dizziness and vomiting usually followed as soon as the person awoke. Anice was suffering the same. When it subsided, he guided her back to the blanket.

Before Robert could ask her any of the dozens of questions that filled his mind, Craig erupted into a sobbing cry that told them both of his hunger. Anice clenched her arms over her chest and her face was filled with embarrassment—her body was answering the babe’s call for food and the milk leaking from her breasts quickly dampened her blouse. Turning away once he settled Craig on her lap, Robert built a fire so he could prepare them a meal. A few minutes later, he returned to her with a cup of watered ale. Although she accepted the cup with mumbled thanks, she would not meet his gaze. It was obvious to him that she was avoiding explanations, so he thought to start the conversation for her.

“Once the babe is fed and ye are feeling stronger, I will escort ye both back to Dunnedin.”

Her terrified sob echoed through the forest around them and caused the babe to let go and scream his own displeasure and fear at being disturbed. His gaze was drawn to the babe, who settled down quickly, and to the intense sounds created by his tiny but hungry mouth on her... breast. He did not intend to look there, but he could not stop staring. As his mind filled, unbidden, with images and desires, welcome or not, he forced himself to his feet and away from her.

“Finish with the bairn and we will talk,” he called back as he walked over to the horses. Leading them to the stream, he watched as they drank their fill.

Robert berated himself for his foolish reaction to Anice nursing her son. He’d seen many women doing that and never thought twice about it. Mothers fed their children, and when mothers could not, or would not in the case of most noblewomen, a wet nurse did it for her. So why did the sight of that wee bairn sucking at his mother’s breast make him breathless? Because, and he realized the deep truth of it even as the thought came to him, he wanted to be the one at her breast. Sucking for the pleasure of it, sucking to make her ready for him, to make him ready for her.

He shifted as he stood, feeling that part of him that ached to be inside her grow as his thoughts continued. Moving his gaze to the cool waters passing by did nothing to abate the fierce desire he felt for her now. This power she had to steer his thoughts to things he could not have was uncanny. He’d thought that leaving would end it. Now, she was here and all progress he’d made in his first day away from her was gone.

The horses raised their heads, indicating their thirst was quenched, so he led them back to his camp. Anice now lay on the ground, facing away from him. He walked nearer to her to check on her.

“Anice? Are ye well?”

“Aye,” she answered in almost a whisper.

“Haes the lad finished?”

“Nay, Rob. I grew too dizzy to sit up and hold him. This way works better for both of us.” She looked over her shoulder at him as she spoke.

“I will have some porridge ready for ye soon—do ye feel up to eating?”

“Aye. Something in my belly sounds good to me now. In a short while?”

He nodded and went back to the small fire a few yards away. Taking out his cooking pan, his bag of oats, and his waterskin, he heated some water and added oats to it, cooking it until it formed a loose mix. He scooped the first batch into his cup and ate it. Once Anice had finished with her son and laid him on the plaid next to her, he made another batch and took it to her. She shifted to her side and nodded to him. He moved away once more and cleaned the pan and secured his supplies back in his saddlebags.

The tension began to build within him as he quenched the fire and finished all the tasks he could possibly do without finally talking to her. His horse was ready to leave. All he needed to do was to discover the reason she was here and when she would be ready to return to Dunnedin. He sat down on the ground near the remnants of the fire and waited. Soon only the babe’s soft cooing and hiccups could be heard.

Anice slid back until she reached a place where a tree supported her back while she sat. Something was wrong with her ankle, she could feel how stiff and swollen it had become, but she would not think about that now. Leaning her throbbing head against the trunk, she wondered how to begin. How could she explain the madness that had sent her out into the wilderness to find him and seek out his help? He had already done so much, even though his displeasure was clear in every move he made and word he said. She suspected that he and Struan had not parted well and Robert was in haste to return to a more welcoming place.

“Did you offer your protection to me that night that you helped in Craig’s birth?” she asked.

The memory of his words had come back to her as she stood in her room, rocking the babe and desperately trying to come up with a way out of her predicament. Ye have my protection, lass. Until the bairn is born and after. As long as ye need it, I will give it. She had mistaken him for Struan in her confused state of mind, but she knew the words had come from Robert. A clear image of his face and the memory of the sound of the words on his lips filled her.

“Anice, ye thought I was Struan. Ye were near to death.” He dragged his hands through his hair as he spoke. “I said what ye needed to hear.”

Then it was as she thought. She was doomed now to lose her son and all that she’d known and worked for these last many years. And, if this MacLaren heir turned out to be anything like Sandy, she would probably lose her life as well.

One wife of his was already in her grave—who knew the how or why of it.

She looked at her son as he lay near her, trying to catch the tiny dust motes in the air in his little fists, and fought to retain the control she could feel slipping. Pulling in a shaky breath, she tried to form the words she needed.

“Then you cannot help me?”

“Help ye in what, Anice? Protect ye from what or who?” His gazed drilled into her. He would expect answers from her. Would hers stir him to reject the wishes of his laird’s? Or would he follow in the blind obedience of most men? He stood up and began pacing in front of her as she tried to form her explanation in her mind.

“Struan and my father have made a plan together. ’Twould seem that I still have some value as my father’s only daughter. He even now negotiates a contract with the MacLaren to wed me to his heir.”

Robert stopped and looked at her, his shock clear in his eyes.

“But ye have already married and ye have a son.”

“Oh, aye, a son, A son who will be left behind to be raised by his father’s family.” A ragged sob tore free from her. “Struan haes offered to let me keep him for a few months after my marriage to help me settle into my new life.”

“When?” he asked.

“Since the MacLaren’s heir haes just lost his first wife, they will wait until summer next to finish the bargain.” Sarcasm filled her voice. “Struan assures me that should be sufficient time to wean him and see to his care.” She nodded at Craig, who had fallen asleep. Her little piglet, content and with a full belly, snored lightly, unaware of the turmoil around him.

Robert stopped and looked at her. “Are ye certain ye understood this? Are ye certain that this is a deed done and no’ some idea being chased around?”

Part of her wanted to scream in disbelief. Did he think she was some lackwit who could not follow a discussion?

“’Tis difficult indeed to misunderstand when someone tells you that you are to be sold to the highest bidder and you must leave your son behind when you go.” Her voice rose in exasperation, “Even some dim-witted man would have no problem with such a thing.”

His chagrined look tempered her anger. Then she realized she was yelling at the one man who could help her. She held her head in her hands and waited, hoping some of the throbbing and dizziness would lessen. It did not.

“I beg your pardon, Robert. And the answer is aye, Struan said that these negotiations are already under way.” She closed her eyes once more and leaned back against the tree, willing unsuccessfully that the pain would lessen.

“What help do ye think I can give ye, Anice? Yer own father and yer father-by-marriage seek out this alliance.” He looked at her, expressionless. She did not know how he felt about this. Would he help?

“I am running away.”

His mouth dropped open in shock and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then he began to laugh, in deep loud guffaws that filled the air. Craig stirred a bit and then went back to sleep. Finally Robert stopped and looked at her again.

“Women like ye do no’ run away.”

She stiffened at his words. “Women like me?”

“Aye, my Lady Anice. Ye were married to the next MacKendimen laird and ye gave birth to another. Ye are highborn and valuable. And ye carried Struan’s heir away from Dunnedin? Ye think he’ll no’ come looking for ye?”

“He never sought his son’s killer. Why would he seek us?”

Robert stared at her without answering and she read in his own eyes the same doubts about Sandy’s death that she had. Never had a word been spoken of it between them, but doubts about the circumstances were there.

“Just because of that—ye took his grandson and his only heir. He will follow ye to the ends of the earth to regain Craig. And he may verra well kill ye for doing it.”

The blood left her face and she swayed, putting her hands on the ground to keep from falling. His words terrified her. Did she really face death if and when Struan found her? She had not considered that possibility because she thought that if she found Robert, she could convince him to help her.

“Please help me,” she whispered.

He walked over and crouched down next to her. Lifting her chin with his hand, he forced her to look at him.

“The only way I can help ye is to return ye to Dunnedin and help ye come up with a tale about yer leaving that is no’ so far-fetched that Struan canna find some way to believe it.”

She shook her head. That could not be the only way out of this.

“If ye make this into some foolish woman’s fear, Struan may be convinced to allow it to pass wi’out further punishment.”

“This cannot be the only way. Robert, I cannot lose my child. I cannot!”

He stood and walked away, remaining some yards away from her while staring off into the forest. He was thinking, she could see that in his expression. He talked without facing her.

“Then ye must negotiate for yerself. Even as ye beg forgiveness for this lapse in judgment and swear to be a dutiful daughter and wife to the MacLaren heir, set yer own terms. Since boys are fostered out anyway, ask that he be with ye until that time. Struan can send someone as a guardian for the boy to live with ye and see to Craig’s upbringing and care.”

“But I am his mother, I will see to—”

“As a woman, ye have no standing when it comes to this.”

His words took her breath away. No standing? She had carried and borne him, almost at the cost of her own life, and she had no say?

“Anice, I ken this is no’ what ye wanted to hear but this is the only thing ye can do.” He finally looked over at her.

“I cannot marry him.”

There. It was out. She’d spoken the words that showed her true fear. It wasn’t about losing the babe. She would lose her son as Robert described in a few years anyway. As the heir, he would be sent to the home of one of Struan’s allies to grow and learn and forge relationships and bonds among that clan. The basic terror for her was once again being under the control of a husband.

She had just accustomed herself to the freedom she thought she’d earned as a widow. Now, the life that she thought lay before her was gone and another one, not of her choosing, faced her.

“Have ye met him?”

“Who? The MacLaren’s son?” At his nod, she answered, “Aye, I met him at my own wedding. He came and brought his wife with him. Have you?”

“Aye. He haes come to Dunbarton often. I hunted with him and his brother several times.”

“What do you think of him?” Mayhap Robert could give her some indication of what she would face if she returned and did as the dutiful daughter should. Not that she would....

“He seemed a fair man, no’ too quick to anger or boastful. I never saw him drink to excess. And I never saw him abuse his horse or those who served him.”

“He does not abuse his horse or servants? And that is supposed to give me hope for a good union with the man?” She tried to make senses of his words. Men saw things in such a strange way.

“’Tis important indeed. Sometimes the true measure of a man can be seen in how he treats those who cannot answer back.”

“And his wife? How did he treat her? As good as his horse? Not so good as the servants?” The sarcasm was back in her voice, much as she tried to control it.

“I did no’ see him with her.” When she started to glare at him, he held up his hand. “But I do remember him speaking highly of her before she took ill.”

She was probably going to have to content herself with his slight recollection of Angus and his wife. She did not remember the woman; she had met her but once and they were among many visitors who attended her wedding. It did not matter. If she returned to Dunnedin and her father’s control, she would marry where he said whether the man be righteous or another monster.

“I cannot go back, Robert.”

“Ye must. There is no other way.” He stood his ground in the argument and in front of her. “Anice, what were ye thinking, to do such a foolish thing? I thought ye were sensible.”

He shook his head and looked at her with an expression of disappointment. And his disapproval hurt her in some way. She had not thought. She could not. She was in such a panic that she had simply acted. Her only thought had been to escape, and then she’d remembered that he was heading northeast to Dunbarton. His words promising protection had come back to her and she knew only that if she could find him, he would help her. Mayhap she could find shelter in some convent or with another clan ?

“I did not think this out. I panicked and ran.”

“Aye, ye did no’ plan well either. For if no’ me on the trail, ye might have run into who knows what. Ye would be fair game for anyone who found ye. That surely would be a fate worse than marrying the man yer father chose?”

It was over. Her only chance of escape was really not a possibility. She had dreamed it, created it within her own mind, and then pursued something that could never happen. She brought her knees up and leaned her head down on them. Thankfully the babe still slept, for she had not the strength to deal with him and his needs at this moment. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Tears flowed freely now and soon the sobbing cries broke out. She did not even try to stop them.

“Here now, Anice. Take this and wipe yer tears,” he said as he pressed a cloth into her hand. “Yer head must be paining ye terribly and I have no’ even done anything to help ye get cleaned up.”

A wet cloth followed for her head. As the coldness of the stream’s water pressed against the bump on her forehead, it did soothe some of the pain. A few minutes later, another icy compress replaced the first. Mayhap it was the cold or the dampness, but very soon Anice realized that her body had needs to be seen to. She lifted her head to see where Robert was.

“Robert, I must...”

“Here, let me help ye to yer feet. Ye can see to yer needs near the stream.” He nodded his head off to the left. Reaching out his hands, he took hers and gently pulled her up.

The forest spun around her as she tried to get her balance. Her stomach clenched and she thought she’d be sick all over Robert, but it calmed a few seconds later. Her ankle, however, had been twisted in the fall and would not hold her weight. She gasped at the pain.

“Yer head?”

“Nay, my ankle. ’Tis twisted. I fear I cannot walk on it.”

She sat back down and he crouched once more in front of her with his hands outstretched. Anice held out the injured part and braced herself as he touched it. His fingers were warm and strong as they pressed around the joint, seeking a break in the bones. He moved it within his grasp to see how it functioned. Soon he put her foot down. She let out the breath she did not know she held.

“I feel no broken bones and the swelling, though painful, is no’ severe. Here, let me help ye to the stream and I will bind it for ye after ye finish there.”

It took more time than she thought it would to get there, take care of her needs, clean up, and then return to the campsite. Robert had assisted her in getting there, but left her alone for privacy. She stumbled along, putting most of her weight on the uninjured ankle, to find Robert holding Craig up in the air and mumbling at him. The babe’s response was to drool on him. She felt her strength waning as she finished changing Craig. She was about to take his soiled clothing to the stream to wash it when Robert stopped her.

“Yer color haes gone pale, Anice. Why do you no’ take a short rest before we leave?”

“Leave?” She felt light-headed at the very thought of going back.

“Since we are closer to Dunbarton, I thought we should go there and send word back to Struan. There is a hunter’s croft not far into MacKillop land where we can stay the night and reach Dunbarton sometime tomorrow.” He looked at her, apparently waiting for her agreement.

“If we must.... If there is no other way....?” She prayed to the Almighty that one of them would think of some other way.

He just grunted and moved away. She lay down and brought her son near. Soon a plaid was thrown over them and covered them against any chill in the shade on this summer’s day in the Highlands. Craig would need to eat again in a short while, but she should be able to rest for a while. Mayhap that would help the throbbing in her head and the aching in her heart.