Page 84 of The Forest Bride

“They are just arrows. I will give you a dozen more. Come.” He beckoned.

“Did you come out to save me from the rain, or to ask about Sir William?”

“Both.” He scratched the dog’s head.

“You could be useful and help me find the other bolt.” She spun away, moving through a density of ferns that swallowed the hem of her gown.

He sighed, not interested in arrows. Truly, he wanted to know what she planned to tell De Soulis. And he wanted to prevent her from stepping into danger because of it.

As she edged through a cluster of birches, the hound loped after her, nosing here and there. Duncan whistled, but Mungo trotted to catch up with the girl.

“Ingrate,” Duncan muttered as he came behind them. Searching ahead, Margaret pushed bushes and bracken aside, shook branches, looking puzzled.

“Surely your arrows did not fly this far into the forest,” he said.

“They could have, because I tried the longbow. Bran gave it to me.”

“You are not tall enough to pull that bow.”

“Which is why my shots went so far off the mark.” She surged ahead, rounding a double-trunked birch and wading onward through ferns and bluebells.

Duncan went too, searching now for long, iron-tipped bodkins. They were not arrows he wanted to lose, but his mind was preoccupied. The girl turned him about like a child’s wooden top, throwing him off his usual steady course.

Before he had seen Margaret Keith again, his life consisted of legal grievances and hard decisions based on justice and laws. Yet all the while, he protected and aided Bruce’s allies—currently a batch of priests who had offended Edward—which put Duncan in the position of working against the laws he upheld in order to support what he knew in his heart was right and just.

And then Margaret Keith stepped into his life, blithely shaking up all he held steadfast in the same way she rustled tree branches and ferns ahead of him. What she looked for was what they both needed, he thought.

Then he realized that the guilt he had held for so long was falling away like old leaves. Forgiveness and something else had replaced it—

Love.He had always loved her, had always known it. He had acted out of a sense of honor when he was young, an honor he did not fully understand then. Now he felt honor and more in a new way. And it was strong enough to throw him off balance if he did not grow with it.

For Margaret Keith’s sake, he would grow, learn, throw open doors, and shake arrows out of trees—whatever it took, he would do it. He knew he never wanted to lose her again.

The dog woofed, and just ahead, the girl threw her arms out as she tripped over something in the undergrowth. She went down in a wave of blue skirts and copper tresses and a little soft cry. Duncan ran forward, catching her under the arms before she could hit her head on a fallen tree trunk. Helping her up, he kept an arm around her shoulders.

“Are you hurt?”

“I am fine. My foot caught on something. Aha!” She bent to root in the fronds and came up with a long arrow shaft. “This was tangled there.”

He took it. “A strong shot sent it this far. Good for you. I can have a longbow made to suit your height and pull, hey?”

“I would like that.” She smiled in delight.

“Come then. We will go back.”

“Wait. Tell me what is on your mind, Duncan Dhu. I can feel it.”

He blew out a breath. They stood in a hollow of leafy branches that muffled their voices and lent privacy. “What is on my mind—is why you would risk seeing De Soulis.”

“I only mean to ask for my brooch—and find out what I can about Lilias.”

“Margaret, think. This is just dangerous.”

“But I can get inside there easily, so I should be the one to go.”

“There are other ways to find Lady Lilias. Other ways to get your brooch.”

She lifted her chin. “Tell me a way better than this.”