by Aileen Adams
They brought up the rear of their little party, with Hugh’s men in front, and Broc just behind them. Hugh followed behind, which enabled him to call back instructions or warnings to Derek and Margery.
It was good, being with his brother again. Strange to think they’d spent so many years apart, with Hugh believing there to be a rift between them, at that.
The fact was one of which Derek was far from proud, he simply hadn’t given very much thought to his brother and the Duncans, assuming they took him for a fool to run off as he had.
The months spent at the manor house had erased all the time between them, and he felt confident in his belief that they were closer than they’d ever been. Perhaps it was because they were grown men, men who had seen plenty of life and what it had to offer. But they were also boys together and had a shared history, almost a language of their own.
Which was why, when Hugh’s hand shot up, Derek immediately drew in his gelding’s reins.
Margery was just off to his right, and he held out an arm to signal her to stop as well.
He watched his brother, taking note of the way he moved his head from side to side. While unable to see for certain, he would’ve bet Hugh’s eyes darted over every rock, tree, and shrub surrounding them, searching for some unseen threat which one of the party had perceived.
A glance at Margery told him she was tense, even a little frightened. This was all new to her, traveling in the woods, keeping watch for wild animals along the way.
Derek assumed one of the horses had caught the scent of a boar or a wolf, something which would cause it to pull up short and prance skittishly.
He offered her a reassuring smile. “It’s all right, lass,” he whispered, not recognizing until he’d done it that he used the same tone of voice with his horse when he wanted to soothe it.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered back.
The fact that she tried so valiantly to appear brave and unaffected only made him love her more. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the reins, but her face was smooth, relaxed.
“Probably just an animal nearby. Once it’s out of range, we’ll continue on, or, one of Hugh’s men will take it down.”
“How?” she whispered, fear turning to fascination.
“With an arrow, I’d guess.” He nodded in the direction of her hands. “If you hold the reins so tight, your hands will tire too quickly. They’ll pain you before long, and you won’t be able to control the horse.”
She loosened them, a sheepish smile crossing her face. “I suppose I’m not much of a rider, am I?”
“Merely unexperienced.” He smiled. “You’re doing a grand job of it, though.”
She seemed to warm to his praise, which only made him want to praise her at every opportunity from that moment to the end of his life. What had she done to him?
“We’ll continue on,” Hugh announced before clicking his tongue to signal his horse. Derek had nearly forgotten his brother was nearby.
26
“Here, lass.” Hugh offered a strip of dried meat, which Margery took with a grateful smile. Derek caught the faintest bit of a smile on his brother’s face, which said he was warming to his brother’s choice.
“We’ve brought some supplies of our own, you know,” Derek offered, patting the saddlebag which hung over his gelding’s back. “This isn’t the first time I’ve traveled these woods.”
“Aye, but I thought it a nice gesture,” Hugh grumbled, leaning against the trunk of an old pine tree with his legs stretched out in front of him.
“And it was,” Margery assured him, earning another smile.
Derek sat beside her, gnawing his own strip of meat, a flask of water between them. She’d held up well over the hours they’d ridden and was clearly getting the feel for traveling on horseback. He’d never once heard her complain or even let out a sound which gave away her discomfort.
He was proud of her. She was a fine, strong lass, capable of nearly anything.
Hugh seemed to pick up on his brother’s thoughts, jerking his head in her direction. “She’ll make a nice addition to the household. The women will take to her very well.”
Though Derek sensed her pleasure at this observation, a slight frown creased her smooth forehead. “Do you think they’ll demand I live with them in the manor house?”
Hugh chuckled, more in surprise than actual mirth. “Demand? Nay, I doubt they would demand anything of you.”
“I don’t mean to be ungrateful,” she said in a rush, cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “It’s only that I don’t want them to think I’m forcing myself on them, nor do I…”
“Nor do you what?” Derek asked.
She looked away, suddenly very interested in a small cluster of mushrooms growing at the base of the tree against which they rested.
“I must admit, I’m unfamiliar with the way life is lived in the Highlands. While we offered fealty to those considered royalty, they played only a very small part in our daily lives. We were free to come and go as we pleased, in other words, without his interference.”
“Phillip rarely interferes with the lives of those under his protection, if that’s what worries you,” Hugh offered.
She shook her head. “It isn’t only that. Does he… Will he think me terribly rude if I tell him I would rather live among his villagers, or in a little home of my own outside the village? Would that even be possible?”
Derek and Hugh exchanged looks over the top of her head. Hugh raised his eyebrows in silent question which Derek understood, and he nodded in deference. When it came to all matters related to the Duncans, Hugh was the expert.
“Phillip isn’t the type to force anyone into anything,” he began, clearly taking his time to use the correct words. “He’s rather broad-minded, really, though sometimes quick to temper. But his wife balances him out with good sense. Now, Heather and Sarah live with their husbands in the manor house because that is their home. But Maccay and his Alis live in a house of their own—a rather small one, granted, but it’s theirs. Dalla and I will do the same. You’ll be free to live where you want, how you want, so long as you pledge fealty to the laird and declare your loyalty to the Duncan clan.”
Margery thought this over, chewing her lip.
“What about you?” she asked, turning to Derek.
“Me?”
“You’re part of the Duncan clan, yes? Even though your name is McInnis.”
“Aye, so long as he’ll have me on his lands, I’m loyal to the laird,” he explained. “Not that I would’ve taken up with any enemy clans should I have met up with them, mind you. I was always loyal to the Duncans. But while on their land, under his protection, I’m one of them. That’s how it works.”
“I see.” She nodded firmly, decided. “If you’re a Duncan, I’m a Duncan. But I would like to feel as though I have a home of my own, if possible.”
The brothers chuckled. “We’ll see what we can do about that,” Derek assured her, brushing his hand over hers in a brief gesture unseen by Hugh. He couldn’t wait until the two of them were alone, where he could tell her everything that was in his heart.
And then, later. When he could show her. Desire crept through him, carrying promises of what was to come.
Broc joined them, walking somewhat slowly and with a wide-legged gait which Derek knew meant his saddle sores were already back with a vengeance. He’d never dare make mention of them, though he wondered if his friend regretted having been in such a hurry to get back on their horses and ride out to the Duncan stronghold.
“The men are ready to ride out,” he announced.
There was still an edge of irritation to his voice, still a reluctance to meet Derek’s eyes.
Derek understood why and knew this was something they’d have to come to an agreement on, and soon.
It had to get under his skin, Derek mused as he untied both his and Margery’s horses. Seeing his captain suddenly ready to settle down with a woman, willing to let the livelihoods of th
e men who’d served under him go to waste in favor of her. To watch them ride together, to see how they sat side-by-side the way they did. It couldn’t be easy.
He’d find a way to make it up to Broc, somehow, even if it meant selling the ships in Kincarny and sharing the profits. He wanted to make it right.
The hand Margery laid on his arm stopped him as he prepared to mount.
“What’s wrong?” she murmured, barely moving her mouth to remain private.
“Nothing,” he lied.
She wasn’t convinced. “I thought you said you always tried to be truthful. Why would you lie to me now, unless it’s something very important which you don’t wish to share?”
“You’re far too clever.”
“I like to think so,” she teased.
He nodded in Broc’s direction while the man’s back was turned.
“Ah,” she whispered, nodding. “I see. I’ve worried over that, to be honest.”
“You have?”
She nodded again, sorrowful this time. “I don’t wish to be the reason for any anger between you.”
“I’m not angry,” he murmured. “And as for him… I don’t know if it’s anger or disappointment in me. Perhaps both. One coming from the other.”
“Because of me.” Her face fell.
“Nay, lass. Because of me. I didn’t have to choose as I did. I never would have if it hadn’t been for meeting you, I’ll grant ye, but that was only because there was nothing better for me to work for. When I met you, I started to think along other lines.”
He stroked her cheek, allowing his hand to slide over her neck and across her shoulder.
“Nothing I could’ve gone back to would’ve satisfied me half as much as the mere thought of living a life with you does,” he vowed. “I still don’t know quite what that life will look like, but I know the life I lived before couldn’t include you. And so, the choice was really not a choice at all.”
She leaned into him, resting against his chest for the briefest of moments before straightening again and returning to her mare. She understood everything he wasn’t at liberty to say, or didn’t have the words for.
27
Oh, Beatrice. I wish you could see this. I wish you could see the adventure we always wanted to go on.
How many nights had they spent whispering in the dark about just such journeys as the one she was on? They were only girls then, neither of them with any idea of the world outside Thrushwood, so not much about what they’d imagined was true to life.
But the sense of adventure had been there, the sense that something exciting was possible. Traveling on horseback through the woods, never knowing what was coming around the bend.
Listening to the sounds of the birds twittering overhead, watching squirrels as they ran up and down the lengths of trunks and branches.
She giggled at their antics, watching as they chased one another.
There was such promise all around her. That was perhaps the biggest change in her life—even bigger than the presence of Derek.
Promise. Possibility.
Everything had changed so quickly, too. When she looked forward with this in mind, knowing how it took little for life to change course forever, she could only imagine the wonder which awaited her.
Even if there was a measure of heartache to go along with it. She was a reasonable person, she knew such things and what had happened to her weren’t specific to Kirkcaldy. It was the way of the world.
But the heartache only made the sweetness that much sweeter.
And she’d no longer have to go it alone.
“Whoa, there,” she murmured when the mare stumbled over a rock which Derek had easily guided his horse around.
“Is she all right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Yes. It was my fault. I was lost in thought.”
“Try to keep your attention on what you’re doing,” he advised. “Many the rider who slipped from their mount did so because their mind wandered.”
“You speak as if from experience.” She chuckled, somewhat embarrassed.
“He does,” Hugh called out with a laugh.
She wasn’t aware of how their voices carried and was even more embarrassed to know he must’ve heard Derek chastising her.
“It’s wonderful, having a brother along on the journey,” Derek grumbled.
“What happened?” Margery asked.
“We were—how old were we at the time?” Hugh asked.
“I have no memory of it.”
Hugh’s laughter rang out. “Come on, now. We both know that isn’t true. I believe it was our twelfth summer, though I could be wrong about that. At any rate, we’d both gotten horses of our own on our birthday. A symbol of manhood, I suppose. I know I felt like the king of the world when I was on the back of that beast.”
“Aye,” Derek admitted. “I did, at that.”
“I thought you had no memory of it,” Hugh joked.
“I remember the horse, damn it.”
“As I was saying,” Hugh continued, “we were on our mounts and feeling quite full of ourselves. Pretending at being soldiers, to be honest. We both held such lofty goals in those days.”
“Seems to me I remember serving in later days…” Derek muttered, gazing up ahead to where Hugh’s men rode along with Broc.
Hugh fell back a bit, until he was nearly abreast of Margery.
The humor in his face was unmistakable. “We were pretending, you see, that we were on patrol. I took the east flank, Derek the west. In reality, we were circling a field on the northern end of Duncan territory, but we pretended it was a field of battle.”
Derek was silent.
He chuckled at the memory. “The next thing I knew, I heard Derek’s horse squeal, and turned just in time to see it rear back on its hind legs. I cut across the field, riding as hard as I could, to find our Derek flat on his arse, if you’ll pardon the expression,” he added.
“What happened?”
“What was it, then?” he called out to his brother. “A wee skunk crossed your path? Was that it?”
“Aye,” Derek grumbled.
“And you panicked, was it? Because you were so deep in the story we’d created? Time has softened the memory a bit.”
“It seems you remember just fine,” Derek replied through his teeth. “I’d like to remind you of all the stupid things you did when we were that age, but I’m afraid we haven’t the time. There’s only another two days’ ride to the manor house.”
Margery couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could Hugh. Derek eventually joined them.
28
“We should’ve secured a cloak for you, back in the village.” Derek wrapped one of the saddle blankets around her shoulders, then wrapped his arm around her to share his body heat.
“We… were in a bit of a hurry,” she reminded him, doing what she could to fend off the shivers which raced through her.
The night air had become chilled, and she understood why; they were traveling up, into the mountains, where the air wouldn’t be as warm at night as it was down in the village.
“This is true. Och, lass, I’m not accustomed to this.”
She heard the uncertainty in his voice, and it touched her heart. She leaned into him, nestling her head against his shoulder.
He was very warm, as though he had a fire inside his chest. Sleepiness threatened to overcome her, but she fought it off in favor of comforting him.
“Not accustomed to what?” she whispered.
The rest of their party were arranged around the fire which had cooked their supper, and it was likely they were asleep, but she didn’t wish to take chances with being overheard.
There was something solemn and almost holy about this time with him—sitting in the dark, beneath the boughs of a fragrant pine tree, with nothing but the sky and stars above them. She wished for it to last forever, uninterrupted by any of those with whom they traveled.
“To caring for another. To keeping another�
�s concerns at the front of my mind. I should’ve secured a cloak for ye, and something more comfortable to sleep on.”
“How would we have traveled with anything close to a comfortable bed?” she whispered, sliding her hand out from the blanket to pat his reassuringly.
He caught her fingers and laced them with his.
“You’re right, I know. There’s no way around the discomfort of sleeping in the woods. This is no way for you to travel.”
“What makes me so special, that this is too much for me?” she asked. “I’m no better than anyone else, certainly no better than any of you. If you can spend your days riding and your nights sleeping out in the woods, so can I.”
He raised her hand to his lips, brushing them against the backs of her fingers.
A new kind of shiver raced through her, a much warmer and more welcome one than before. She watched, holding her breath, as he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the place where his lips had just been.
“You are better than I, lass, better than any of the men here. Better than anyone I’ve ever known, than I’ve ever imagined anyone could be. You are everything pure and worthwhile in the world. Nothing is too good for you.”
Tears pricked behind her eyes, threatening to spill over.
“When we reach the manor house,” he murmured, opening his eyes again and looking down at her with almost heartbreaking tenderness, “I’ll see about selling the ships. I’ve decided. I’ll give Broc a share of the profit, and he’ll be free to start on his own with what I believe we could collect. That will leave me with more than enough to begin a life for us.”
A life for them.
Her heart swelled at the thought. Keeping his home, bearing his children. Making friends in the village, feeling as though she were part of something. No longer disconnected, the way she’d felt all her life.
“I would love nothing more than that,” she agreed, tucking herself even more firmly against his body.
She felt warm, finally, and comfortable in spite of the reality of the ground beneath her and the tree to her back.
