by B. J. Scott
If only Alasdair could find it in his heart to forgive her deception, would reconsider his decision to turn her over to her family, and offer to help her with her plight.
After putting on the trews and rolling up the legs so they did not drag on the ground, she donned the tunic and turned up the sleeves. She glanced down at her appearance and shook her head—certain she looked like one of the homeless waifs she’d seen on the streets of Edinburgh the time she’d accompanied her mother to the home of her clan. Actually, it was the second time she had been there. She was born in Edinburgh on one such visit, the reason why her mother chose to name her Edina. In Gaelic, it meant of Edinburgh, and her mam told her that while she now resided in the Highlands, the name always reminded her of home.
She missed her mother very much, but her thoughts quickly returned to her current situation. Alasdair was furious, and she really did not blame him for feeling betrayed. But she was not a devious person by nature. She’d done what she had out of necessity and never intended to hurt him. She really did not remember her name or what happened on the ship when he found her. Somehow, she had to make him understand. But given his ire when he stormed out of the croft, this was not the right time. Suffice to say, the journey to Sinclair Castle promised to be a long and dismal ride.
“Are you dressed and ready tae leave?” Alasdair poked his head in the door and their eyes met.
“Aye, as ready as I will ever be. While I do appreciate the loan of your clothes, I am afraid they dinna fit verra well.” She wrapped her arms around her waist to keep the trews from falling off her hips.
Alasdair stomped across the room, yanked the drawstring from his supply sack, and tossed it at her. “Use this tae cinch the trews and make haste. The hour grows late and I want tae be away while we still have some daylight.”
Despite the strong temptation to speak her mind and comment on his rudeness, she bit her tongue, deciding it was better to remain silent than to risk riling him further. Edina tied the rope snuggly around her waist, then picked up the satchel and began filling it with dried venison, turnips, and the oatcakes.
“What are you doing?” Alasdair crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her through narrowed eyes.
“I thought we might have need of a few things tae nibble on along the way. Have you a wineskin I can fill with water?”
He patted the deerhide flagon that hung at his side. “I’ve already taken care of that and have another on my saddle. We have a hard ride ahead of us and if you’re quite finished dallying, I’d like tae get started.”
She stepped forward and placed her hand on his forearm. “I know you’re upset with me Alasdair, but you must believe me when I say that I never meant tae do anything tae—”
“I told you I dinna want tae hear your excuses. They mean naught from someone who has proved herself tae be a liar.”
She stood her ground. “You promised tae protect me, Alasdair, tae keep me safe. Yet you are willing tae toss me tae the wolves without giving it a second thought or allowing me the chance tae explain,” she replied sharply.
“I hardly consider turning you over tae your kin as a betrayal. As for an explanation, I have heard enough of your lies.”
“My father and brother care not about my happiness. They plan tae hand me over tae a man I dinna know or love with no more regard than they would a prize steer or mare at an auction. What else would you call it?”
“I call it following Highland tradition, the way it has been for centuries. Without these practices where would we be?”
“Tae hell with Highland tradition,” she replied, showing no remorse for cursing. Something a lady of her standing would never do. “If only you would believe me when I tell you I was injured and dinna know my name. I never meant to deceive you, Alasdair.”
“I thought you were different from other women I have known in the past, but I was wrong.”
“I believed you were different as well. But it appears you live in the past like my father and are not the man I hoped you were.”
“Think of me what you will, but you can rest assured, m’lady, I willna be fooled by you again.” He lifted her hand from his arm, then moved away. “I’ll be outside and suggest you dinna keep me waiting any longer.”
There was no mistaking the disappointment and distain in his voice. Edina wished she had told him the truth when her memory first returned, but it was too late and there was no going back. “I come anon. I just want tae gather a few more things.”
Alasdair planted his hands on his hips, watching in silence as she picked up some eating utensils, two trenchers, and two tankards, then placed them in the sack with the food. While he never uttered a word, the scowl on his face spoke volumes. Certain she had what they needed, Edina walked toward the door, but stopped to pick up a length of plaid from the foot of the pallet, then draped it around her shoulders. Evenings could be very chilly in northern Scotland, even in the summer.
Walking ever so gingerly, she followed Alasdair to where Odin stood, sharp stones and gravel digging into the soles of her bare feet as she crossed the clearing. Large hands encircled her waist and before she knew it, he had lifted her onto the saddle.
“I had no boots tae offer you and even if I did, they’d likely fall off. I’m afraid your feet will have tae remain bare. If you unroll the legs of the trews, they will at least be covered.” He didn’t wait for her permission and proceeded to tug down the fabric.
“Have you another horse?” She glanced around, in search of a second mount. He could not possibly mean for them to ride into her father’s keep together, especially if he was concerned about appearances.
“Odin is strong enough tae carry us both. You weigh no more than a bairn.”
“For us tae ride on the same animal isna proper. What will my father think?”
“You should have considered that when you hid from your brother,” he snapped. “A lot has happened since I found you on the beach that most people wouldna deem proper. Had you made your presence known when Jayden was here, you could have ridden home in his company. So unless you wish tae walk all the way tae your father’s castle, I’d suggest you not question how I mean tae get you there.”
“How long afore we’ll arrive?” she asked softly.
“Too long,” he grumbled then climbed into the saddle behind her. “Get yourself seated properly and hold on because I dinna mean tae waste time.”
Her body tensed and her breath hitched when she felt the intimate rub of his muscular thighs and the warmth of his rock hard chest pressed against her back. When he encased her with arms of iron and grabbed the reins, the scent of man and musk made her dizzy with desire. She tried to lean forward, to put a bit of space between them, but he yanked her back so her bottom rested against his groin.
“You’ll tire too quickly if you sit forward like that. You have nothing tae fear, m’lady. My intentions are strictly honorable and your virtue will remain intact.” He didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
Given the way her body reacted to his nearness and the fact he was still very angry, relaxing was not an easy task. She wiggled her bottom, flexed her legs and arms, then fisted the horse’s mane. “I’m ready.”
“Finally,” was all Alasdair said, then he dug both heels into Odin’s flanks.
The steed lunged forward. Were it not for her skill as a competent horsewoman, she’d have been terrified by the speed at which the horse covered the rocky terrain. At this rate they’d arrive at their destination well before nightfall.
Her stomach sank at the thought of seeing her kin and having to explain what had happened. Four summers had passed since her mother died and her da sent her to foster with her aunt. She was not the same complacent lass she used to be, and she was certain she’d not be able to accept her father’s demands without protest.
Her parent’s marriage was far from ideal, yet somehow they’d managed to tolerate each other for more than twenty summers. They’d met at court, when her father
came to pay his respects and taxes to the former Scottish king and her mother caught his eye. Her mam had no desire to leave her beloved Edinburgh, or to marry a Highlander, but once the king sanctioned the union, she had no choice.
The only daughter of a powerful laird, Edina always knew her fate would be similar to that of her mother—an arranged betrothal, possibly to a man she’d never even met—but secretly dreamed she’d someday marry a man she loved. She had no doubt that her da would be pleased to see her, as would Jayden. But there were still the matters of explaining why she’d spent the last sennight alone in Alasdair’s company, her objection to marrying Duncan Sutherland, and, worst of all, facing her father’s advisor and dearest friend, the man who had attacked her on the ship and, like everyone else, believed her dead. Mayhap it would have been better if she’d drowned.
If he continued to push Odin without taking a break, he’d run the poor beast into the ground, but every moment with Edina nestled in his lap was pure torture. The sooner they arrived at Sinclair Castle, the better. However, when froth began to form on the horse’s chest and withers, Alasdair eased up on the reins and the faithful steed broke from a brisk trot to a walk.
“Are we stopping?” Edina asked hesitantly.
“Only long enough for Odin tae rest and have a drink. There are still several miles tae travel afore we reach your father’s castle.” He brought the animal to a halt in a small clearing, slid from the saddle, then reached up to assist her.
“I can do it myself.” She lifted her chin, pushed his hands away, and climbed down unaided. “You dinna need to coddle me, Alasdair, I can ride as well as any man.”
“So I’ve been told,” Alasdair grunted. Under different circumstances, he might have found her temerity appealing. He studied the determination in her eyes, but despite her effort to put on a stoic front, she looked weary. After being abed for a sennight, she was bound to be exhausted. Were he not so furious with her, he might take things a bit easier. But Edina had betrayed him, lied to him for her own gain, just like every other woman he’d ever known. He refused to take any pity on her, or to slow their journey on her behalf.
He grasped the wineskin from the back of the saddle, took a drink, then tossed it to her. “Have some water and best you tend tae your needs. I’m not sure when or if we will be stopping again.”
She took a few sips from the flagon before handing it back to him. “Thank you. I will use yonder thicket if you dinna mind.”
He gave a curt nod. “Do what you must and make haste. Daylight is waning and I want tae arrive at your father’s keep afore dark. We have enough tae account for as it is and being forced tae make camp for the night would only make things worse. As it is, I’ll be lucky if I’m not drawn and quartered for tainting your reputation.”
“Naught happened between us and my da will understand. He must. Our fathers were friends and you are an honorable man.”
“When a father has what he believes tae be a guid reason to question his daughter’s virtue, the past and honor holds no credence. I suggest you do what you must while I water the horse.” He dismissed her with a sweep of his arm.
After rolling up the legs of the trews so they didn’t drag on the ground, Edina moved toward a clump of bushes at the edge of the clearing. He watched the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away and his groin stirred. “Mo crèche,” he cursed. After all that had happened, she still had the ability to make his pulse race and his blood heat. The sooner they got to their destination the better.
He whistled for Odin and his obedient mount trotted over and nudged his arm. “I’ve sworn off women my entire life and for good reason, lad.” He stroked the horse’s forelock, then scratched the animal’s ear. “Be glad you’re a beast and dinna have tae trouble yourself about such things.” He fisted the reins and led the horse to a nearby stream to drink.
Edina cleared her throat with a soft cough before speaking. “I’m finished and ready tae leave whenever you are.”
Alasdair remained silent. He squatted beside the water and refilled the wineskin before answering. “The sack with the food is tied tae the back of Odin’s saddle. I suppose there’s time for you tae have a wee bite afore we go.” He didn’t turn around or look at her.
“I’m not hungry. Best we be on our way,” she replied tersely.
“Suit yourself. Dinna say the offer wasna made.” He stood and before she could respond, he lifted her into the saddle, and climbed up behind her.
They traveled the rest of the trip in silence. He slowed the pace a little, but the gesture was for Odin’s sake and not for the lass. Or so he told himself. Regardless of what happened between them, he was and would remain a gentleman.
By the time they reached the castle of the Clan Sinclair the sun had set. Alasdair’s stomach twisted. He dreaded facing Jayden and his father after making a fool of himself, prattling on about the lovely lass he’d found on the beach and had spent more than sennight taking care of.
Despite telling Jayden nothing had happened, his friend was convinced he’d bedded the lass. Her brother would surely want to see him flayed when he found out the woman he’d told him about was his sister. The laird would want retribution and he couldna really blame him if he believed the worst. Were he her father, he’d likely react in the same way. Edina was a comely lass, and most men would have taken advantage of their time alone together.
Resolved to face what fate had in store for him, Alasdair stiffened his spine and kicked Odin into a trot. Best he get this over with rather than speculate the outcome.
As they neared the drawbridge, two burly guards stepped into their path. “Halt and state your business,” the first said, then widened his stance and drew his sword. The second held a claymore in one hand, and with the other, lifted a torch in the air.
Alasdair stopped the horse and dropped the reins. He held his hands out to the side, his palms skyward. “My name is Alasdair Fraser and I come in peace. I wish tae see Laird Sinclair and my friend Jayden. They are expecting me.”
The second guard took a step forward and gasped when Edina peered around Alasdair’s shoulder. “Saint’s preserve us!” He crossed himself, then moved closer. “She’s alive. How can this be? We were told she drowned.”
“What are you babbling about, man?” the first guard growled and stepped into the light.
“The laird’s daughter, she’s alive. May the Almighty be praised.” The second man crossed himself again.
“Hello, Thomas. You are looking well,” Edina said, then smiled at the second guard. “As are you, Clive.” She bobbed her head at the first man. “I’m pleased tae be home, but am verra weary. If you would be so kind as tae raise the gate and allow us tae enter, I’d be verra grateful.”
Clive nodded. “Aye, right away, m’lady.” He jabbed Thomas with his elbow. “You heard the mistress, stop staring like you’ve just seen a banshee, open the gate, then fetch the laird.”
“Och, there is no need to bother my da at this moment, Thomas. Mayhap he has already retired. In the morning would be soon enough.”
Alasdair could hear the tension in her voice. She obviously dreaded facing her family as much as he did.
“Your father is in the great hall having his evening meal. He will be most anxious to hear of your return,” Thomas replied.
Chains rattled and iron groaned as the large metal blockage inched skyward.
“I’ll fetch the laird and Lord Jayden.” Clive handed Thomas the torch, ducked beneath the partly raised gate, and raced across the bailey.
“I’d hoped to approach your da on my own,” Alasdair grumbled as he urged Odin forward. He swallowed hard and the knot in his stomach tightened. Something told him things could only go from bad to worse.
The bailey was all but empty when they arrived. Aside from a few villagers, most of the clan members were in their crofts or at the castle taking part in the evening meal. A young squire sprinted forward and bowed as Alasdair reined Odin in and slid from the saddle.
> “I’d be pleased tae tend your mount, m’lord.” The boy’s eyes widened when he looked at Edina. “Once your wife has dismounted,” he quickly added.
“We’re not married,” Alastair replied gruffly as he helped Edina down. “Take care of Odin. Give him some oats and a good rub down afore you put him out to pasture.” He handed the lad a piece of silver and patted his head.
“Oh, thank you, m’lord!” the lad exclaimed. He clutched the coin in one hand and grabbed the reins with the other. “I’ll see him well fed.”
“He dinna recognize you,” Alasdair commented as he watched the lad lead the horse away.
“He canna be more than eight or nine, and I’ve been gone the better part of four summers. Judging by his age, I would think him not much more than a babe when I left. I was not quite fifteen summers when I was sent tae foster with my aunt and I am no longer a bairn. There are many who willna know who I am.”
“What goes on here?” a loud voice bellowed, causing them both to spin around.
At the top of the stone staircase stood a tall man with a brawny build. It had been a long time since Alasdair had seen Laird Sinclair, but other than his graying hair, the man had changed very little over the years. Jayden flanked him, his face contorted with a scowl.
“Speak up, Fraser. Tell me how it is you arrive in the company of my daughter. A lass we believed lost at sea.”
Jayden stepped forward and crossed his arms over his chest. “Best you explain yourself, Alasdair, afore I cut out your heart and feed it tae the dogs.”
Chapter 12
“What have you tae say for yourself, man?” Jayden cast a lethal glare at Alasdair and fingered the hilt of his sword. “Explain tae me why you lied. You told me you dinna know the lass you claimed to find on the beach.”
