“What happened to ye? Oh, Douglas, I cannae bear to see ye in such a state of distress!” she said, trying not to allow her emotions to show too deeply in case the guard approached.
“I know. I am sorry for showing up like this, Grace. You cannot imagine what the past three days have been like for me. I suppose it started before that, actually. I was traveling to…a place I needed to visit. I was looking for someone,” Douglas said. Grace hung on his every word, but sensed that he was holding back.
“Did you find them? The ones you were seeking?” she asked.
“N-no. But it was a small town and with my accent, and the questions that I asked about the ones I was seeking, Grace, they thought I was a spy. They beat me and left me for dead. They stole my horse. I have been dragging myself here for three days,” he confessed.
Grace was horrified and brought a hand to her mouth. With the other, she gently touched Douglas’s arm. His face was nearly swollen over and she could see how difficult it was for him to keep his left eye open.
She could see the green of it, but it was bloodshot and agonized. It seemed his whole body had been clobbered. The sight of him injured was overwhelming and any sense of discomfort Grace had felt before leaving Dunmore was doubly painful now.
“Douglas, where are ye coming from?” she asked in concern.
“F-Fleet,” he said, unsure whether or not it was wise to tell her.
Grace assumed he just didn’t want her going there and seeking revenge. “Fleet? But that isnae far away at all. It has taken ye this many days to get here?” she asked.
“Yes. As I said, they took my horse. Grace, I’ve been dragging myself. I can barely stand and not for long. Now and then I have pulled myself up and hobbled as far as I can, but eventually I find myself back on the ground,” he admitted.
Grace could see the pain he felt in confessing this failure. It was difficult to see him beaten not just physically, but also emotionally. He was a man brutally torn apart, it seemed.
“What were ye doing in Fleet? Who did ye need to find? Could I have helped at all?” Grace asked him.
Douglas shook his head. “No, Grace, please do not ask about my journey, nor can I allow you to start wondering if you might be a part of it. It is what it is and it is in the past now,” he said.
Grace could tell that Douglas was parched. He needed water, and quickly. She stood without a word and went to her mare to grab a small canteen. At the same time, she strategically brought the horse to obscure the view of her and Douglas from the guard.
Grace also noted that the guard had grown bored of his duty and had dismounted, only to lean up against a tree and shut his eyes for a moment.
“Thank God ye’re worthless,” she muttered under her breath, both annoyed at his lack of discipline and grateful for the opportunity to speak with Douglas without interruption.
“Here, drink this,” she said, giving him the now open canteen.
Douglas greedily took the water and guzzled it until it was empty. “Thank you. I’ve not had anything to drink today. Yesterday I drank from a stream, and I spent a good deal of time along it, but eventually I had to part ways if I wanted to make it to Dunmore,” he said.
“Why were ye coming to Dunmore? Needed Joanna again?” she asked, somewhat bitterly.
“No, Grace,” Douglas began. “I came for you. I came because I had to find you to tell you goodbye. I realized that I was nearly murdered there in Fleet and I had not said a proper goodbye to you. It was wrong of me, the way I rode off before,” he confessed.
Grace felt her heart soften. How could she stay mad at him when he recognized his foolishness? How could she hold onto her rage when Douglas, the man she loved, was so deeply wounded before her?
“Ye came to say goodbye to me?” she asked. A part of her still did not fully understand or grasp his words. How could he come all that way and only say goodbye? How could he go through all of this and still not be trying to fight to be with her, to win her hand?
“Yes. I had to come and say goodbye. I know that anything I might want can never happen. But I could not die without telling you that I am sorry. That I had to say farewell. Grace, you have cared for me in a way that no other has,” he said. His words would not go on.
“Then why are ye leaving like this?” she asked. Tears were coming to her tight throat and Grace was unsure how to express what she wanted to say in a manner that was proper and right for a young lady of her station. How could she say goodbye to him?
“Grace…” Douglas whispered, touching her hand. As she sat before him on bended knees, he carefully, painfully drew her to him.
Grace allowed her lips to rest on his and feel the way he tenderly kissed her. She imagined it must be painful for him, having such a swollen and bruised face, and yet choosing to kiss her despite it. The fact made the kiss all the more meaningful that he was willing to suffer for a taste of her lips.
The warm, loving kiss was deep and caring. However, it was also brief. Too brief.
Douglas pulled back and they simply stared into one another’s eyes for a moment of pure affection. They desired one another, but knew that this could not take them any further than a simple kiss stolen in a forest.
“Night is falling; you should return home,” Douglas warned.
“I dinnae care about the night. I want ye to be safe,” she said, feeling the tears swell in her eyes.
“I will be. I have a few things I must tend to,” he said.
“How will ye get anywhere?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t got a horse,” Douglas remembered.
Grace looked up at her mare. It was her favorite beast. She didn’t want to part with her. This was Douglas though, and he was worth the sacrifice.
Then again, her mare wasn’t the only horse around.
Stealthily, Grace maneuvered to the horse ridden by a now-sleeping guard. She quietly untied the rope and guided the steed over to Douglas. “Can you climb up?” she asked.
“Yes, I think so. I have been sitting here for quite some time, so I hope the rest will have allowed me to gain a little strength,” he said.
Grace helped Douglas to his feet and then leaned him against a tree, bringing the steed beside him. Between his gathering strength, the tree, and a little help from Grace, Douglas managed to mount the horse.
“Thank you. You have been my rescuer yet again,” he said, looking at her. His words made her feel a sense of unease, remembering how Callum had called her a similar title of late.
“Please be careful. Be safe,” she said.
“Yes, I will,” came his reply.
They looked at one another again for a long moment, not wishing to say goodbye.
“I suppose this time I ought to say farewell,” he joked.
“Aye, you had better,” she replied.
“Farewell…”
“Farewell…” she echoed.
With that, Douglas turned his mount and rode away from her.
Grace watched him depart and it was not long before her questions began anew.
Would she ever see him again? What had their kiss meant? Why did he have to say goodbye?
No, these questions were too much. Too much and too painful.
She couldn’t leave it at that.
Grace climbed atop her mare and gave one last look at the guard who would suffer for her choice. With that, she rode after Douglas.
Unfinished Conversations
“How can he be so quick despite his injuries?” Grace asked herself. She knew that he had had three days to begin the process of healing, but it seemed unreal that Douglas was already so far ahead of her. When she had seen him just a few moments before, he was barely even able to mount a horse.
Now he was speeding through the trees and over fields.
She was a fast rider and had only spent perhaps five minutes of deliberation before choosing to follow. Of course, the guard’s steed was also an extremely fast creature and that surely counted for someth
ing.
Grace rode hard and fast to catch up to him and, finally, she did. He looked at her with sincere shock upon the realization that she had come after him.
“Grace! What are you doing? Why are you coming after me?” he asked. Douglas’s eyes darted around them, searching for some sign of trouble that might explain her actions.
Grace opened her mouth, but suddenly felt terribly foolish. How had she been such a silly child to do this? She had impulsively followed him, but what if he didn’t wish to be followed? What if he wished to be left alone? Wasn’t it the man’s job to chase and to pursue a woman? What had possessed her to track him instead?
She closed her mouth, uncertain what to say. It gave Douglas the opportunity he needed to say his own words.
“Please, go back. Get home and stay safe, Grace. You do not need to be following me. You do not need me in your life any longer. I have only brought you difficulty,” he said. There was sympathy and apology in his eyes, as if Douglas had done some terrible thing that caused Grace to befall a terrible end.
“Why are ye always like that? Why do ye pretend to care about me and then leave me? Or send me away? I came because I want to ken what it is ye are doing in these parts and why ye have to leave me behind?” she asked.
The concern in her face was painful and evident, but Douglas was not ready to share what was in his heart.
“Please…” she implored.
Douglas sighed. “I am looking for any traces I can of the family that once lived in Dunwray Manse. In Fleet. That was where I was when all of this happened,” he said, gesturing to the many injuries covering his face.
“Dunwray Manse?” Grace questioned. The wonder was all over her face that he had been idiotic enough to go into Fleet as an outsider and, worse, an Englishman.
“Yes. I need to speak with anyone I can that can give me information about that place and those that once lived there. It is abandoned now. I found the house, but not those to whom it belongs,” he explained.
“I see. And why do ye need to speak with them?” she asked.
“It is not important now. I just need to find them,” he said.
Grace looked at him with frustration. “So ye have no intention of telling me why ye need them, but I’m sure that if I were to tell ye that I may ken of someone who can help, ye would be ready to accept?” she asked slyly.
“You know of someone who could help?” he asked.
“As it happens, I do. I recall the name of Dunwray Manse. Our cook mentions it an awful lot. She says her sister worked there. Got paid quite a lot. That’s typically why she mentions it, to remind us that she isnae paid enough. She’s told me plenty about the place and the people that lived there. It seems a scandal had happened once, but I dinnae recall the whole of it.
“I could look into it if ye’d like? Ask the lady about her sister? See if there’s any information I could gather for ye?” Grace offered.
Douglas’s eyes lit up at this offer. “Grace, I cannot tell you how grateful I would be,” he said.
“Is that true? Would ye be grateful?” she asked teasingly.
“Yes, I would be extremely grateful,” he laughed in reply.
“Then ye ought to tell me more about why it is so important for ye to find the ones that once lived in Dunwray Manse,” she prodded.
Douglas’s face clouded over a bit. “Truly, Grace, it is not anything for me to discuss just now. I will tell you in time, I am sure. But for now, I would much prefer to keep this to myself. You see, there are a significant number of unanswered questions and the more people I inform about those questions, the more risk I put myself in,” he said.
“Risk for what?” Grace asked in concern. There was a flash of hope in her eyes at the fact that he mentioned telling her one day, insinuating that they would see one another again.
“For disappointment. For having to tell them all if I do, indeed, fail. And the mission I am on is one in which failure is a grave possibility. It is highly likely. I do not wish to put myself in such a spot as making my failures so visible. So please, I ask you, just let this go for now,” he requested.
Grace nodded and was quiet. “But,” she began. “Ye are clearly still far from recovered. And I imagine that being on horseback is brutal for ye just now. So I’ve a thought. Why dinnae ye come down and I’ll tend to yer wounds,” she offered.
Douglas could see that she didn’t have any sort of kit for doing so, but it was a tempting thought. She was so gentle and kind when she tended his wounds, and there was a part of him that greatly wanted to be on the receiving end of that again. “As you wish,” he said.
Grace hopped down from her mare and tied her, then went over to help Douglas dismount. It was difficult and she could see how painful it was for him to move in such a way. Nevertheless, once he was down, she helped him to sit.
“Are ye hungry?” she asked.
“Famished,” Douglas replied.
“Then I suppose it is well to do that the guard is a secret glutton,” she replied, sneaking over to the storage pouches on the steed’s saddle. She pulled out a good deal of dried meat, although she had no idea what kind it was.
It didn’t seem to matter to Douglas. The moment she handed it to him, he was devouring every morsel.
The sky had darkened and was turning black. Grace felt a bit guilty for having left the guard behind, but she also knew that it was his own fault for falling asleep like that on the job. She was glad he was so bad at his duty, but also found it shameful.
“If ye’re thirsty, he has a canteen as well,” she offered. She had resolved that on the way back, she would find the guard and he would ride with her on her own mare.
“I had best save it. There’s no telling when I will return to my home. For now I am stuck out here, and I do not wish to be without water,” he replied.
It was wise and Grace considered how she would not have such a level of self-discipline if she were him. “That is wise,” she said vaguely.
“Anyway, you do not have to stay with me, you know. I am glad you followed, but it was also very foolish of you and you ought to return home. I imagine that guard is frantic and convinced he will lose his head for your escape. He probably imagines I was some ruffian who faked injury in order to kidnap you,” Douglas said with a laugh.
“Oh I’ve no doubt it’s true!” she replied heartily. They sat together a bit longer in the moonlight before Grace stood. “I suppose ye are right. I had best return home. Will ye be alright getting to wherever ye are headed next?” she asked.
“Yes, I will be perfectly fine. Thank you again for your kindness and the ways you have shown such care for me,” he said.
“It is nothing,” Grace replied, thankful that the night concealed her blushing.
“It is a great deal,” he replied.
He was leaning into her again and Grace was all too ready to respond. She inclined her head toward him once more and felt his swollen lips on hers as they had been earlier that evening. It felt so comforting and Grace wished she could bottle the feeling and hold onto it forever.
The moment he pulled away from her, she felt the same desperate sense she had felt before--that she needed him back, she needed his lips back in their place on her own. Why did he have to allow himself to be so distant from her when she wanted him so badly?
“Forgive me,” she said with an edge to her voice.
“Why ever should I forgive you? You have given me a gift,” Douglas replied.
“A gift from which ye pull away,” she retorted.
Douglas eyed her with confusion and then, a look of understanding. It suddenly began to make sense to him why she was so bitter about it every time they kissed. It wasn’t because he was Hanoverian or because they were so different, it was because he always had to leave her as a result of those differences.
“Grace, listen to me. Pulling away from your lips is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. But, as much as I wish I could, I cannot live attached to your lips alway
s. Please, understand this. I an extremely…fond of you,” Douglas expressed, trying to refrain from revealing too deeply into his heart.
“Fond of me?” she repeated, seeming both a little hopeful and also a little annoyed that it wasn’t more than that.
“Yes, indeed. And you should also know that my fondness for you does not come and go as I do. In fact, sometimes as I leave you, it is for the sake of us both to be kept safe from the depth I feel for you. So please, Grace, understand. I am not abandoning you when I go,” he said.
Grace nodded and bit her lip. His words were soothing, but it did not push away the truth that he always did leave inevitably.
“Please, allow me to seal my promise of that truth, just one more time,” Douglas said, leaning to kiss her again.
Grace tilted her head upwards and allowed a final, warm kiss before Douglas moved back, mounted his steed, and rode off.
He looked back and saw that she was still watching him closely. Seeing him as he drifted into the distance was painful, but brief.
Night had fallen. Douglas had gone. Grace could still taste him on her lips.
However, for now she had another task. One with far less appeal. She had to return to the guard that had been assigned to her, let him mount the horse beside her, and ride back home to Dunmore.
Still, though, she had been kissed by Douglas. There was little else that could distract her from that fact.
Well-Suited and Well-Bred
Dunmore was looming ever larger with each day. Or so it seemed to Grace, who had finally begun to understand Colla’s frustrations with the constraints of being the primary young lady in the house.
It was suffocating, and yet the castle was expanding around her, eating the earth that tried to escape to be free of it.
“Here we are,” Grace whispered to her horse. She was thankful that the mare had gotten her safely home.
She hoped that she would manage to get to her room undetected, but as a woman of power and position, she had no such fortune.
All the fuss made by the guard— who was making good on his threats to get her punished for abandoning him— had drawn a small crowd outside the stables. However, Grace shook it off and entered her home, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom.
Loving A Highland Enemy: Ladies of Dunmore Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story) Page 11
