Border Lord's Bride

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Border Lord's Bride Page 3

by Gerri Russell


  "Nay, you'll not be rid of me so easily, Lucius." She placed an added emphasis on his name. "I've come to take you on an outing." She held the cloak over her arm out to him. "Once you break your fast we'll be on our way."

  "Where?" he asked suspiciously.

  She smiled sweetly, and he knew from the days of their youth that the glint of determination in her eyes meant he wouldn't get anything more from her until he agreed.

  He accepted the cloak. "If I do this, will you leave then?"

  Her smile slipped a notch. "I'll make you no promises. Marie has oats and bacon set out for you in the kitchen."

  As she waited for his reply, her gaze moved to the chair he'd slept in and the woolen blanket now lying on the floor alongside it. Her face remained blank, but in her eyes he could see a momentary sadness before she dropped her gaze to her feet.

  He'd always been able to read her emotions by her eyes. At the thought he stiffened. What did he care what emotion she was experiencing, especially on his behalf? Elizabeth had betrayed him, and here was no forgiving that. He tossed the cloak over his shoulders and pushed past her, heading toward the kitchen. "Very well. Let's get this charade over with, so then you can leave."

  Before his sisters had risen from their beds, he and Elizabeth were out of doors. She led him to the stable, where two horses were saddled and ready for them. Elizabeth moved to the mounting block and easily slipped onto the back of her horse.

  Lucius frowned, irritated by the knowledge she didn't need his assistance to mount. Was she avoiding his touch? Or was she making a show of her independence? He mounted his horse and forced the thoughts away. He could not afford to care about her feelings or her motives. His presence on this outing was merely a means to get her to leave, nothing more.

  As she turned toward the door, he noticed a dark bundle attached to the back of her horse. "What's in the satchel?" he asked as he followed her.

  She stopped her horse and turned to him. "Gifts from you to your tenants."

  "What are you about?"

  She ignored his tartness. "You need to meet your people. They are eager to meet you. And since it is customary for the lord of the manor to deliver coins to the crofters and servants at Christmastide, I asked Hadwell if you could do both at the same time. He agreed and gave me the funds."

  His gaze narrowed. "You are overstepping your authority."

  "As the future mistress of this estate, I must think of its people."

  He drew a deep breath. "You are not mistress here yet, and will never be if I have my way." At the hurt in her eyes, he softened his tone. "Besides, coins are to be dispersed on Saint Stephen's feast day, the day after Christmas."

  She held her chin high. "It would better serve your people to have the coins early this year, for they have suffered much by the loss of your father and brother."

  A rush of pain moved through him at her words. He hated to admit she was right. Those of his people who remained at the estate deserved kindness this year more than any other. At the mention of his tenants, his thoughts wandered to those who'd left. Where had they gone and what was their condition? The borderlands could be a treacherous place for clan members living on their own.

  Determined to get this outing over with, he set his horse in motion, driving the beast into the foot-deep snow. Regardless of whether it was his idea to go to the crofters or Elizabeth's, he did need to talk with them and figure out what had happened to those who'd left the estate. It was his duty to see to their safety, no matter what his uncle had offered them to leave.

  Pale blue skies stretched overhead. The sun bathed the snow in sparkling iridescence that lent further peacefulness to the scene as they progressed to the south. The rhythm of the horses' hooves in the ice-crusted snow was the only sound greeting them as they made their way across the fallow fields. They rode in silence, with only the sound of the harness jingling to fill the space until they came to the first crofter cottage bordering the edge of the loch.

  "Bentner and his lady live here with their five children," she reminded him as they dismounted. She untied the satchel and handed it to him. "For you to disperse as you see fit."

  He accepted the heavy bag and opened it up to see not only a bag of coins at the top, but several packages wrapped in linen and tied with twine. "What's in the packages?"

  She lifted her chin and a hint of a challenge came into her eyes. "Marie thought you should share a ham with them for their Yuletide celebrations."

  He raised a brow. "She did, did she?"

  Elizabeth nodded, but her gaze searched the area near the croft cottage instead of settling on him. Her inability to look people in the face gave her away every time she told a lie. Lucius bit back a smile and headed for the door. "It was a good suggestion, whoever's idea it was," Lucius said.

  After a jam tart and three cups of tea, Lucius and Elizabeth made their good-byes and headed for the southern tip of the estate. "Does Jacob Insley still live on this patch of land?" Lucius asked as they neared the Insley cottage.

  "Aye," Elizabeth replied. "He and his new wife, Jayne, are there."

  Lucius smiled at the memory of Jacob Insley. He'd been a frequent visitor at Midwick Manor when Lucius was young. The two men had become friends regardless of their rank, and Lucius was eager to see his old companion once more. They were riding toward the cottage when they saw a tall man with shockingly red hair pacing back and forth in front of the door. "Jacob?" Lucius called as both he and Elizabeth dismounted and hurried forward.

  It took a moment before recognition dawned on the young man's face, but when it did he ran to them and clasped Lucius's arm. "Praise the saints ye are safely with us again, milord."

  At Jacob's pale face, the wind suddenly felt a little cooler. "What's wrong?"

  " 'Tis my Jayne. She's been laboring with our second child fer a day. The midwife told me tae come outside and walk around the house backwards tae try tae help alleviate her pain."

  "I'll go see what I can do to help," Elizabeth said as she hurried inside the cottage.

  "Would you like some company on your jaunt?" Lucius said when they were alone.

  "Aye. That I would," Jacob said. "For a moment there, I feared ye were the English."

  Lucius frowned. "Are the raids that frequent?"

  "Aye. They know the country is weakened with the Bruce gone and his child on the throne."

  Lucius sighed. "I've been so caught up in the Templars' troubles with the French that I hadn't heard…" He let his words trail off. It was no excuse. He was a landowner now and responsible for the safety of his people. "When was the last raid? And how many men did they have?"

  "Last week they came across the border west of here and torched the MacKinley land, and stole their cattle. George MacKinley died, but his son Silas and their men managed tae fend off the English before anyone else was killed."

  Lucius kept his expression neutral, though inside, alarm rippled though him. The English usually only stole cattle. That they'd killed George MacKinley indicated they might be testing the border's defenses for another, larger attack.

  Before he could respond to Jacob, the door of the croft opened and Elizabeth stepped back into the snow. A worried expression brought shadows to her eyes. "Jayne's labor is harder than it should be. The babe is large, but it's more than that. She's nervous about the raid that happened last week. Mistress Grayson fears unless Jayne feels safe enough to deliver the babe, they both might die."

  Elizabeth met his gaze. "Jayne would be better served if she had men to guard her. But that is your decision to make." Elizabeth's gaze dipped to her toes as though she feared what his response might be.

  Instead of making the decision for him as she had about this trip, she'd given him the chance to decide Jayne's fate, even though there really was no choice. "Jacob, go tell your wife that reinforcements from Midwick are on their way. After the baby is born, I want you all to move in to the manor house with us. Jayne and the baby will be well cared for there. Marie and Had
well will see to that."

  Jacob's eyes misted. "Thank you, milord."

  As Jacob disappeared into the cottage, Elizabeth turned to Lucius. "There's no one at Midwick Manor to guard anyone."

  "Which is why I'm going back to the Bentners to ask for their help." He drew his sword and pressed the hilt of the weapon into Elizabeth's hands.

  "I don't know how to use a sword."

  "Let's hope you won't have to. I'll be back soon." He strode to his horse, leaving Elizabeth staring down at the weapon.

  Chapter Four

  Lucius arrived back at the Insleys' cottage a short while later with Hamish Bentner and his wife. The three of them, along with Elizabeth, took turns watching the approach from the border as Jacob reassured his wife that they were safe from harm. If the English chose this moment to attack, Lucius doubted the four of them would have any chance of fending them off. But Jayne didn't need to know that.

  After a long and exhausting day of waiting, a soft wail echoed from inside the cottage, followed by a second wail that mixed with a mother's cry of relief.

  "Congratulations." Lucius smiled at Jacob as he emerged from the house. Jacob had been at Jayne's side for hours, and the man appeared as tired and worn out as if it were he who'd given birth.

  Jacob smiled, and suddenly his tiredness vanished. "Praise the saints," he said, and clapped Lucius on the shoulder, his voice filed with pride. "I'm a father again!"

  Instead of sharing in the man's excitement, Lucius paused. "You could have lost her and the baby."

  Joy brightened Jacob's eyes. "There's that risk in everything we do, my friend. 'Tis the good things that happen that get us through the bad." His smile widened. "Ye helped make this outcome possible, and I thank ye for that. Good comes in turns, and now it's yer turn fer the good to come yer way."

  It was not what Jacob had said, but the passion in his words, that brought a sense of heaviness to Lucius's chest. He deserved good? He didn't believe that.

  He deserved to be punished for turning his back on Marcus when his brother needed him most. If only he'd been there when the English had raided. Maybe then… Lucius turned toward his horse, wanting desperately to escape. What? His friend? His own thoughts? His belief that he didn't deserve more than the pain that his life had been filled with?

  Fairy tales and happy endings were something he knew a great deal about. His mother had spun a thousand stories in the evenings before the fire for his brothers and sisters, each tale grander and more far-fetched than the last. For years, he'd actually believed his mother's tales.

  He'd been a young man of sixteen when reality had hit, and hit hard. He'd fallen in love. He hadn't meant to. It just happened one day while he was walking along the loch with his best friend. In the late afternoon sun, he'd taken her hand, glanced into her eyes, and a thrill he'd never experienced before moved through him—a thrill he felt suddenly was necessary to his life.

  He'd meant to tell her how he felt, but the words never seemed to come. He tried to show her, but his actions were thwarted when Marcus intruded and captured his beloved's attention.

  Then one dark, dreary morning, he'd seen the truth in his brother's eyes. He'd fallen for the girl as well. A final stab to his heart had been when he'd caught the two of them together in a passionate embrace in the garden. As he watched their betrayal, all of his hopes and dreams shattered. From then on he'd stopped believing in anything good, and he'd run away, just as he was tempted to do now.

  But running was no longer possible. His sisters needed him. And he'd learned a hard, cruel lesson: running didn't stop the pain. Instead, it only made it worse. The best he could do was dredge up something to salvage the situation.

  Lucius turned back to Jacob with his expression carefully blank. His people needed his help. Perhaps that's where this goodness Jacob prophesied would come into being, but that didn't mean any of it would spill his way. Experience had taught him that dreams of happy endings were a useless waste of time.

  "Before we pack up Jayne and the children to take all of you back to Midwick Manor, might I ask you one more thing?" The sound of his voice echoed in the silence of the late-afternoon air. "If things are so good here at Midwick, then why have all the servants deserted us?"

  Jacob's face turned solemn. " 'Tis yer uncle who's behind it. He's payin' them twice their yearly salary tae leave and he's a tellin' them stories about how ye changed. That the Templars turned ye into a merciless beast."

  Lucius stilled. "Did he approach you?"

  Jacob nodded. "I could see past his lies. He's tryin' to hurt ye by takin' away yer help. He's made no secret of the fact he wants the earldom, or that he wants ye out of the way in order tae get it."

  Lucius schooled his features into a hard mask, fighting the pain of yet another betrayal. "Horatio expects the law of inheritance to change solely for his purposes?"

  Jacob met his gaze. "Don't let yer uncle win this battle. I know ye've got it in ye tae fight. I remember that much from our youth." He rubbed his jaw as though remembering one of the many punches Lucius had landed there during their mock battles.

  "Enough of this morbidity. You've got happier things to celebrate. Go prepare your family for travel. I'll get the wagon ready."

  "Thank ye, my friend, milord." Jacob took two steps toward the cottage door, then stopped and turned back around. "I meant what I said. Yer a good man. I'll never forget what ye did fer us this day."

  At Lucius's nod, Jacob hastened into the cottage, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Fight. Lucius tipped his head back and breathed a heavy sigh. He'd become a fighter for other people's causes over the years. Could he do the same for himself? Could he gather his people and train them in the ways of battle he'd learned with the Templars so they could withstand not only his uncle, but the English as well?

  He had ties to the Bentner and Insley clans. Then there were the MacKinleys. Would they join him in this cause? There was only one way to find out. He'd ride for the MacKinleys' land first thing on the morrow.

  In the meanwhile, he'd take stock of what weapons and defenses his brother and father had left him. They'd lived on the border between Scotland and England all their lives. Everyone in the borderlands had to be prepared for invasion at any time. There were bound to be defenses they'd gathered in the years he'd been gone.

  His sole job now was to see that his sisters and his people were safe.

  Lucius frowned. Something bad hovered on the horizon. He'd felt nothing but tension in the air today. Whether that tension came from his uncle or the English, he wasn't certain.

  One lesson he'd learned from the Templars, and learned well, was to be prepared for anything.

  That was at least something he could focus on to keep his mind from other things.

  Elizabeth pulled her cloak more tightly around herself as she stepped outside Midwick Manor. She still felt unsettled even though Jacob, Jayne and the babe, and their young daughter Maybel were now safely tucked into a bedchamber abovestairs. Perhaps a stroll would help relieve the unease that came from her own uncertain future.

  Elizabeth headed toward the loch and the icy fringe that had settled along the shoreline. Now that the excitement of the day had faded, her own troubles left her edgy and, if she was honest with herself, fearful. Her life would change in a dramatic way in three days' time.

  She breathed out a column of frosty air that quickly vanished. How would she ever convince Lucius to go through with their marriage? She wasn't the kind of woman who got what she wanted through tricks or ploys. Nay, he would either accept her or reject her. And rejection seemed the more likely of the two.

  And if he rejected her, she would be alone in this world with no one to rely on and nowhere to turn. Slowly, she walked in silent contemplation, until she realized where her feet had taken her. She paused as a tall, winged statue blocked the late-afternoon sun from her eyes. The angel's mildew-stained hands were outstretched in greeting, yet the statue's carved eyes were upon her, silently cond
emning her for invading the solace of the cemetery. Two steps more took her past the angel and to the foot of Marcus's grave.

  A soft rustle sounded behind her.

  "Do you miss him so very much?"

  Elizabeth turned to face Lucius. For a split second she saw the boy who'd once lived behind those dark eyes. He used to laugh with her and talk with her about any number of things. His smile had seemed ever present.

  He was not smiling now. "Do you miss him?" Lucius repeated.

  "Some days." It was all she could say past the lump in her throat.

  He nodded and came to stand beside her. "What was he like before he…" His words trailed off, but she knew what he was asking.

  "He was happy, as Marcus always was. Nothing ever seemed to bother him." She couldn't bring herself to tell him about how Hadwell had found him upon the battlefield with a sword through his heart. Marcus had died defending his family and his country.

  He'd had so few men that day when he went to attack the English. Yet Marcus felt it was a risk worth taking to save even one person he loved.

  Elizabeth would do the same to save the family she so desperately wanted with the man before her. She'd been so close to that once. She'd known something was changing between Lucius and herself. But once Marcus started paying attention to her, his brother stopped looking at her at all.

  Then he'd left without giving her a chance to explain the kiss he'd witnessed. He'd never even said good-bye. Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to block the memory of the day Lucius left her for what she'd thought was forever. He'd always been her friend, yet she'd hidden from him how difficult things had become for her at Huntingdon Hall after her mother died. He had no idea how lonely she'd become or the misery she'd endured with no money to pay servants or even put food on the table. That's when her father started selling off their possessions.

  "Elizabeth?" Lucius's voice jerked her back to the present. "You looked sad there for a moment. What is it?"

 

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