Page 9 of The Guardian’s Bride (Highland Secrets #3)

A edan MacDuff! Walking beside him, Rowena felt stunned to have encountered him just when she needed help most. That blessing of luck was the work of angels, she had always been told. Whatever brought them together, she was glad to see him healed and strong. But she wondered what crime had put him in Yester’s makeshift dungeon.

And she was pleased that he remembered the betrothal; it had meant something to him. The strongest bond, though, had formed at Holyoak, when she had cared for him—and began to care about him. The feeling went deep.

And she had to warn him about Edward’s threats against his son and his castle, but this moment was not the time. MacDuff wanted to get them away from Yester and any pursuers. But it was good and gratifying to know that long ago, her father and great-grandfather had approved the lad—not the man—as her husband. She did not truly know him, but had begun to trust him. And her best choice was to go with him.

They walked through the shadowy woodland fast and silent, and came to a burn burbling over rocks. Kneeling, they scooped water into cupped hands, drinking deeply. Then they followed a rough path to emerge onto a green moorland under a wide sky where a pale moon floated in a lavender sky. In that eerie half-light, she saw an earthen road, the clustered rooftops of a village, and a river’s silvery ribbon.

“The River Tyne,” MacDuff said. “It will take us east. Wait,” he said, moving her behind him. “Riders.”

A group of horsemen came along the road a fair distance from where they stood. Aedan MacDuff guided her toward the shelter of a hawthorn tree, twisted and flowering. There, Rowena peered through the white-flowered branches. “English soldiers?”

“Aye, likely heading back to Yester Tower.”

She waited with him in the shadow of the blossoming hawthorn. When the riders were out of sight, she looked up.

“Are they looking for us?”

“We surely gave them reason.”

“Why were they holding you there, sir?”

“Treason and such. Others would call it loyalty.” He glanced around as he spoke. “They may search for us together or separately, going to your castle, mine too. Edward is relentless and expects the same from his men.”

She needed to tell MacDuff of the royal orders she had overheard. Her nature was to be careful and think before leaping; but if the need was urgent, as with healing duties, she acted quickly. Soon she would tell him what she knew, but MacDuff’s urgency hinted he already suspected.

“Wherever they go,” he continued, “they will ask about a woman who goes about healing people.”

She bristled. “I am not a mystic. I do not go about just—healing people.”

“Well, clearly not the king,” he drawled.

“He was improved when I left him, I swear it.”

“I believe you, I do. But why were you at Lanercost? Are you an English sympathizer? Should I worry?” He gave her a wry smile.

“I am not for the English. I am accused of treason too. What was your treason?”

“Various. And treason is attached to the name.”

“Because the MacDuffs—”

His hand clapped over her mouth. “Do not say it.”

“Mmph,” she said. He lowered his hand. “I just wondered if you are kin to the earl of Fife and the captured countess—”

His big fingers covered her mouth again, firm yet gentle. He let go. “Just keep the name to yourself.”

“I only wondered why you are hurrying to Fife.”

“A man wants to go home, aye. Do they know your name, your home, your kin?”

“They do,” she realized with dismay. “My brother was with me at Lanercost. He serves as deputy sheriff in Selkirk, but that is no guarantee of protection.”

“Not from Edward. Home is Kincraig? It is a good distance from here, to be sure. Ah, they are gone.”

They left the shelter of the hawthorn to walk toward the village and river. She understood why he had to reach Fife, yet she needed to go the opposite direction to Kincraig to be with her family should soldiers arrive to fulfill Edward’s demands.

“Sir, I can go my way while you go yours. They may forget about us at Yester.”

“They will not risk Edward’s wrath. Nor should you head out on your own. Stay with me and stay safe. You poisoned a king and I helped the Scottish king. We will rank high on Edward’s list of enemies.”

“But I did not poison the king.”

“I believe you. But someone out there thinks differently.” As his long steps swallowed the distance, she hurried to keep pace. When they neared the village, she saw a dirt track that split in two directions. Aedan MacDuff took the branch toward the water, a mile or more away.

“The village—can we stop there? I do not want to go to the river. I can hire a horse in the village and ride home.”

“Soldiers would be on your tail soon, and then what?”

“They might take the river instead and follow you to Fife.”

He huffed. “The river does not go to Fife. Have you no map in your head?”

“I have never been to Fife.”

“You will like it. Hurry. We may not find a boat if it is too dark.”

She dug in her heels. “Why take the river if it does not go to Fife?”

“The river goes to the sea. The sea takes us to Fife.”

“Sail on the sea?” she squeaked.

“If we value our heads, we cannot linger here or ride to Kincraig.”

She fared poorly on the water and avoided water travel, but did not want to admit that weakness to this very determined man. He barreled along toward the river. When she stumbled keeping up, he braced her and continued in grim silence.

“I do not like boats,” she finally said.

“That may be, but boats will take us to freedom. Hurry.”

She could not go any faster. Breathless, thirsty, tired, she stopped short. “You want what you want,” she said. “And I want what I want.”

“I see that,” he said. “And I promise to take you to Kincraig. Later.”

She felt frustrated and confused. “With all your clever tongue, how do I know your promise is good?” The words were out before she knew it.

He whirled. “Lady, I am a man who keeps his word unto death,” he said low, fierce. “And I am the man keeping your bonny wee neck safe. Trust my promises or not, that is the truth of it.”

His gaze was intense, far deeper than his clever tongue would imply. His promise was surely as strong as his will, she realized as remorse washed through her. “I spoke too quickly. I apologize.”

“Ah,” he said, as if at a loss for words.

She sighed. “It might be unwise to go on my own. I only know Kincraig is well west of here.”

“Just so.” He sounded gruff.

She needed his help to get to Kincraig, but he needed to go to Fife first. She knew that, aware of Edward’s orders. “Fine,” she said. “We will go to Fife first. Then Kincraig.”

“So be it. I see a boatman on the quay. Come on.”

They walked down a slope toward the river bank. MacDuff headed toward a stone quay, Rowena in tow. She glanced over her shoulder toward the village.

“Is that an inn?” She pointed toward the village street and a two-story house with a painted sign. Horses were tied to posts in the kailyard. “I could stay there while you sail to Fife. I have enough coin to rent a room. Then you need not bother with me.”

“You are persistent, I give you that. But you are no bother, and this region is crawling with English. I will not leave a lady alone in an inn by the riverside, let alone a lady hunted by Edward’s thugs.”

“We could have a meal there,” she said. Anything to avoid getting on a boat.

“Rowena Keith,” he said, turning. “What is it about boats, hey?”

She frowned, looked away. “Being on water makes me feel ill.”

“It will be a barge here. Not much.”

“I nearly drowned once,” she said in a rush. “In a loch, in a storm. I fell off a boat. My father jumped in and got me. But—it was terrifying.” She shrugged. “So I do not enjoy being on the water.”

“I understand.” He gazed at her, looked away, sighed. “We could use some food.”

“At the inn, aye.”

“But we must travel by water, lass, to lose those guards. First let me secure passage on the river. Then we might pick up pies. You will be fine. I promise.” He smiled, reached out, cupped her shoulder.

She felt her lip quivering at his quiet kindness. “Promise.”

He beckoned, and she walked with him. The quay was not busy, just a few men milling about. Further up the river, she saw a barge heading east toward the sea under the gathering twilight. She held back by instinct, and he turned.

“We will go together to Fife and then Kincraig. We will put our trust in each other, aye?”

She sighed, preferring solid land under her feet. But he was right. Trust and togetherness were necessary now. “Aye.”

He took her hand and strode toward the quay, where a man working knots in ropes attached to a post looked up. “Oy, sir! My wife and I are headed to Edinburgh and would ride the river part of the way. Have you a boat ready?”

“Edinburgh?” Rowena asked, confused, wondering what he had in mind now.

“Grizel, hush,” Aedan said from the corner of his mouth.

“It is dark for sailing east now.” The man looked at Aedan’s helmet and red surcoat, then at Rowena in her drab garments. “English knight, sir? You talk like a Scot.”

“All sorts serve the king. My bride and I would travel east by the river.” MacDuff set a firm hand on her shoulder.

“The barge is out now and will not return until late. Poling the river in darkness costs more, unless you have the fee. Best return early in the morning.”

“We will be here first light.” MacDuff thanked him and drew Rowena away with him. “Listen now,” he said as they walked away. “I know you need to go to Kincraig, but you should know that there is something in Fife that cannot wait if men are on my tail. We shall toss a coin to decide the matter once and for all, aye?” He showed a silver coin in his palm. “Do you play chance games? I make most of my decisions that way.”

“You do not,” she said, giving him a wry look. “Half what you say is in jest, though you are cannier than you let on.”

“Am I?” He grinned and flipped the coin. “Heads! I win. East it is. After that, we go to Kincraig. I keep a promise,” he reminded her. “Besides, best you stay with me. I know your crime.” He tipped a brow.

“And I know your name,” she replied in a saucy tone, feeling relieved that they need not sail immediately.

“It is a worrisome detail,” he groused. “Are you hungry? To the inn, then. We will have to stay the night there.”

Her heart quailed a bit. “What if the guards go there?”

“Ah. True.” He frowned, then nodded. “Come this way.” She followed him toward a dense crescent of woodland behind the inn. “I should change out of this English gear. If anyone asks the boatman, he saw only an English knight and a bonny lass.”

“I thought Grizel was plain.”

“Not to me.” He walked toward a cluster of beeches behind the inn and stopped beneath the wide spread of an enormous beech. Stepping behind it, he took off the helmet and quilted cap, set them down, and began to struggle out of the surcoat.

“Let me.” She reached up to help pull the surcoat away. He straightened his brown tunic and trews, then fastened the belt around his hips, settled the sporran, and took the plaid Rowena handed him. Draping it over his left shoulder, he tucked the front part in his belt and took a broad brooch from the sporran to fix it on his shoulder. He looked a very fine Highlander, she thought, admiring him.

She glanced at the discarded helmet and surcoat. “Shall we fetch those later?”

“They might be found.” He snatched them up, then gave her a quizzical look. “Here. You take them.” He held them out.

“You want me to carry them?”

“In a way. Let me think.” He wrapped the surcoat around the helmet and held the bundle out again. “Aye. Wear these under your gown.”

“You are mad!”

“What better disguise than a woman with child when they seek a slender lady?”

“Wear it yourself and have a plump belly from too much beer.”

“Aw, and who would defend you if needed? Not a fellow overblown with beer. Take it. Please,” he added.

She took the bundle and turned away, wondering quite how to do this. Lifting her gray over-gown and the front hem of her reversed blue gown, she crammed the heavy wrapped object against her torso over her linen shift. Standing with shift, stockings, and boots exposed, she struggled to hold it close while tying the red surcoat around her. She looked over her shoulder. “Could you help tie this? But do not look.”

Then she felt his hands at her lower back, felt him tug at the surcoat, taking some of the bulk and weight of the helmet. “How am I supposed to do this without looking?”

“Look, then, and fasten it snug if you can.”

He pulled the cloth tight, then reached around to tuck the ends of the surcoat around her to make a sling for the helmet. As he worked, his arms came around her and she leaned back against his chest. His hands felt warm and deft at her waist and over her abdomen, tucking and snugging. A heated thrill poured through her, and she caught her breath. “Oh!”

“There.” He stood back, hands on her shoulders, then away. “Is it too tight?”

“It is good.” Dropping the gown and over-gown, smoothing the layers over her false belly, she felt a hot blush fill her cheeks. She turned, patting her rounded torso, arching a bit with the weight of it. “How is this?”

He blinked. “The very Madonna. I will treat her with reverence.”

“You could just stop hauling her about.” She smiled, pleased by the look of awe as he gazed at her.

“As you wish, my lady.” His eyes twinkled.

She felt a wash of gratitude that Aedan MacDuff was proving such a steady companion. Her pragmatic nature needed to know what to expect, needed to feel on solid ground. MacDuff was quick and decisive where she was careful and deliberate, and yet she found this impulsive playacting rather enjoyable.

“I am a Highland farmer, traveling home with his bonny wee wife who is enceinte .”

“Does the Highland farmer speak French?” she asked with a laugh, then picked up her blue cloak and flipped it so the dark plaid lining showed outermost.

“Ready, my lady? Gentle Grizel?”

She walked in a careful circle, testing the uncomfortable burden of helmet and surcoat, supporting it with her hands. “I fear this thing will fall out.”

“Thing! Your child, madam. He looks secure. And convincing.”

Rowena could not help but chuckle. “You are a lunatic!”

He grinned. “Needs must, lass. To the inn.”

Rowena paused, knowing she must tell him what she knew before they went further. What Edward had declared felt like a greater burden than the steel helm.

“Grizel?” He gave her a playful smile and extended an arm toward the inn.

She sighed. She was intrigued by his amiable nature, mixed with stubbornness and strength. Beneath that easygoing surface lay deep courage and an iron will beyond the norm. He was a warrior, fierce, loyal, determined, a man who cared deeply about home and family—yet he had a jester side too.

That ability to laugh in the face of adversity gave him more power somehow. He made her smile, even laugh when she could be too serious. He had a way of staying buoyant, even though he had endured great troubles. Humor, she realized, was his rare strength. She felt increasingly drawn to him, like a lodestone seeking its match as well as its opposite.

She was loath to pile more trouble on his shoulders, but it was time. “Aedan MacDuff, I must tell you something.”

“What, Kincraig is that way? My lady keeps telling me so.”

“Something else.” The weight of the helmet pulled on her lower back, and she leaned against a tree to ease it. “At Lanercost, I overheard a discussion about you.”

He folded his arms as if in defense. “Who spoke of me?”

“King Edward was angered about something you did. I heard him order your arrest and the forfeiture of your castle in Fife.”

“I know. I was arrested—and now I am out. We are out. As for the castle, Edward would forfeit every Scottish property if he could, to the ruin and decimation of this land. If he sends men to Castle Black, I have soldiers installed and pray their number is enough. That is one reason I mean to get there soon as I can. Is there more?”

“I heard him order one of his knights to take your son into custody.”

He stilled, his face going pale, mouth tightening. “Go on.”

“At first he wanted the child placed in a dungeon, but another argued against it, saying the boy was small. Edward said for him to just give the child milk. Then he relented and ordered the boy to be taken and housed with the young Earl of Fife. His cousin, is it?”

Aedan stared at her, silent, cold, waiting.

“The knight Edward gave orders to was Sir Malise Comyn. Do you know him?”

“ Ach! That bastard. Pardon me. He had something to do with shoving me in Yester. I saw his name on the arrest warrant, though he was not there when they took me down. But the rest of what you say—my son, my property—that is news, and I thank you for it.”

“What will you do?”

“Get to Fife quickly to make my kin secure. I had that in mind already.”

“I could stay here if it would help you travel faster.”

He let out a breath and stared up at the tree cover in the purple dusk. “I want you with me. And I am sorry you have been dragged into this.”

“I do not mind. I only regret bringing you such sorry news.”

“It is good that you overheard that, because now I know what they might do. All will be well, hey. Come ahead.” He beckoned, smiling, but it did not reach his eyes. The mask was back, his troubles his own.

They walked toward the tavern and he opened the door to allow her to enter first. “Thank you, Hamish,” she said as she passed.

“I like it,” he murmured, then raised his voice. “Grizel, my sweetling, we will find rest and respite here on our journey home.” He stepped inside after her.

A woman came toward them wiping her hands on a cloth. “Sir, lady! Welcome!”

“Good dame, my wife and I require a meal and a room. My dear, you cannot sleep another night under the stars in that condition.”

She sighed. “Are there two beds?”

“I know how uncomfortable you must feel, madam. I have had three babes myself. The room has one bed. Tell your brawny man to sleep on the floor. Be seated now, and I will see that your chamber is warmed. Extra for a bath?” she went on as Aedan MacDuff shook his head.

“Could we have a basin of hot water, soap, and linens?” Rowena asked.

“Aye. We have good Spanish soap made with almond oil and roses. It costs extra.”

“That is fine,” Aedan said, as the woman guided them to a table.

“I hope you are not traveling far, madam. You are carrying out front. A robust boy is my guess.”

“Surely it is male.” Rowena gave MacDuff a wry glance as he drew out a bench.

“Are you daft, man?” the woman snapped. “Not the bench! Fetch that chair with the sturdy back for your lady! Hurry!”