Page 61 of The Forest Bride

“Apparently. What is the message?”

“He wants to know your progress with the boy arrested for shooting him at the archery butts. You are holding him at Brechlinn, I am told.”

“I questioned the lad and decided to let him go. It was clearly an accident,” he said, having no intention to bring Margaret to account for Menteith. “But I have questions for Menteith on another matter. I can call on him at Loch Roskie.”

“I will tell him. But why would a justiciar handle such a simple incident as this so-called accident? I suspect Menteith will disagree with your finding.”

“The deputy sheriff of Stirling was called away at the time. Tell me, why are you up here rather than in the Borders, Sir William?”

“Edward’s lieutenant in Scotland assigned me to Menteith. I am being groomed for a sheriffdom. Menteith does well keeping order in the region.”

“At times,” Duncan allowed. “So it is an apprenticeship?”

“I would not call it that.” De Soulis bristled. “Just observing and assisting. Currently we are searching for rebels. Constant work, for they are often about, elusive as the devil. Menteith is searching for some priests who escaped. You might have heard of them. He sent me out in his stead.”

“I have seen no rebels hereabouts.”

“As I said, they hide, sir.” The knight gave a flat smile. “We have difficulty with them south of here. The Ettrick Forest especially. Rebels are everywhere, hiding and then striking out like cowards. Edward is adamant that we find every one of them.”

Smug fellow, Duncan thought. Yet his mind raced. A search for rebel Scottish priests might lead to Brechlinn, where Duncan assisted those very men, hiding and then channeling them toward safety in the west. He felt a chill down his spine.

“If you think to find them in Crianlarich, there is little rebellious activity there. If you are headed that way, you are well off the road in this glen.”

“We rode this way because I saw an interesting sight. A falcon trailing jesses. Where there are trained birds, there will be falconers, I thought, so curiosity brought me here with my men.”

“We came out for a diversion. The lady wished to fly the peregrine. We were just heading back. I will not hold you up.”

“I thought I saw a golden falcon. A peregrine for the lady. And what do you fly, sir?” De Soulis looked toward the lady, his glance keen. Margaret stood lower on the slope with Bran and Lennox. She had drawn the hood of her cloak high and had retreated behind Bran’s bulk. Lennox also pulled up his hood and turned away, not wanting to be recognized near Lennox lands.

“Another hawk,” Duncan replied.

“Here at the lady’s whim, are you?” De Soulis peered again toward Margaret. “She looks familiar. Could it be—am I so fortunate? Is it Lady Margaret of Kincraig? My dear lady! Do come forward where I can see you.”

Duncan took a step to block De Soulis’s view. “How is she your concern?”

“I know Sir William,” Margaret said, coming up the hillside. Duncan turned, then lifted a brow in question.

“Do you wish to speak with him?” he asked quietly.

“I should.” She paused beside him and pushed back her hood. Uncovered, her braided hair was brilliant in the sunlight.

“Sir William, greetings,” she said.

“Lady Margaret! It is you. What are you doing so far north of Kincraig?”

“I am with friends.” Her sidelong glance at Duncan held a flicker of hesitation and a hint of a plea.

Puzzled, Duncan felt a protective surge go through him like lightning. “Lady Margaret,” he told De Soulis, “is visiting Brechlinn. We—are betrothed.”

De Soulis startled visibly, his horse sidestepping on the platform rock. “Betrothed? My lady, tell me that is not so!”

She stood silent. Then she nodded. “It is true.”

“I wish you the best,” De Soulis said. “Though I am heartbroken to hear it.”

“Heartbroken? Truly?” She looked incredulous.

“Very disappointed. My lady, does your newest intended know about us?”