She nodded, and William positioned her for their decent. Climbing down the wall proved a tad more difficult than climbing up, when his fear for Emma and drive to get to her had assisted. Now he had her wrapped around him, feeling very aware of the precious cargo he carried. He did not want to fall and possibly hurt the lass.
They dropped down to where Goraidh waited. “Me lady,” the other man greeted Emma with a deep bow, draping his hand across his waist in a flamboyant flourish.
Another brittle pang of jealousy ran through William. He knew his friend would never betray him, but Goraidh was the most handsome, charming devil in all the Highlands, and any lass would be smitten, especially when he acted so regal. The last thing William wanted was to lose Emma’s affection to his closest friend.
William slapped him on the back, out of his foppish bow. “Let’s go!” he said gruffly.
“What?” came the reply, causing Emma to giggle.
“We nae have time for any foolishness. Tha’ both of ye.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed as he lifted her onto one of the horses, before sliding on after her and nestling her against him.
Och, she feels good so close. Like we were made to fit together.
“I hope ye don’t mind lass, it seems we could only secure two of the beasties.”
“No, I don’t mind at all,” she replied softly, leaning her head back against his chest. “Please, let’s get far from here.”
“Aye lass,” came his reply as Goraidh joined them on the other horse. They rode quickly from the house, with no opposition from Marston’s men. William thought it was almost too easy.
* * *
“Now, why don’t ye tell us about this Frenchman ye brother is wantin’ ye to marry?” William gave her a gentle look, but Emma knew it couldn’t have been easy for him listening in on her conversation with Mrs. Briddle. She only wished they had more time before the old maid had come into the room.
Now, they were in the old hunting lodge on the far end of the Marston lands, far enough from the house that they could pause for a moment to reorganize without fear of Thomas or his men coming to find them.
There was charred wood in the single fireplace and the windows were open. Emma could tell this was where they had slept the night before. It was a safe choice. As far as she could remember, her father had not rented out the old hunting cabins since she was a small child. William and his friend had made an excellent choice. No one would think to check these old cabins. She would be safe until she decided to run away with two Highlanders.
Now, Thomas and his men would scour the entire estate and the surrounding lands. He would immediately suspect it was William or MacNair men. Who else would be so bold as to take her at nightfall? It would be foolish of them to stay any longer than was necessary to formulate some kind of plan.
“I knew nothing of it, not until this morning,” she said.
She hoped William did not think she had any inkling to find another man or had agreed to her brother’s position to betroth another. As far as she was concerned, she was going to honor the first betrothal—to William.
“Aye, lass, we ken ye doona. We heard ye scream when they forced ye into yer chamber, that’s why we came runnin’ to ye. It was a sound I didnae care to hear from yer lips again.” He ran a gentle finger down her cheek, and warmth pooled in Emma’s center.
“He threatened me. Thomas, my own brother threatened me.” Emma could not believe it even as she said the words aloud. She and Thomas had always had a difficult relationship, mainly due to his foul temper. Emma was sure some siblings who had suffered a demanding and domineering father like theirs would have grown closer, inseparable even, but not her and Thomas.
No, instead her older brother took all his pain, feelings of rejection, and fear of their father out on her. It had started when they were children and only recently abated with his death. Emma knew now, though, that any affection Thomas had shown her upon learning of their father’s death was all a cruel ruse to sell her off to the highest bidder.
“Did Marston happen to give ye a name?” William’s question snapped her out of her thoughts. She shook her head to clear out the sadness of her brother’s betrayal.
“He did. Pierre Belmonte, a merchant from France, who deals in fabrics, and I suspect, based on my brother’s fine stock, illegal cognac.”
She wanted to keep the disgust from her voice, but she was still upset from the interaction with Thomas in the library. “I just do not understand why less than a week after our father’s murder, solving that crime wouldn’t be at the forefront of Thomas’ mind. My marriage should be the last thing he is worried about.” She watched as William and Goraidh exchanged a meaningful glance.
“What? What is it?” She asked, tired of being a timid spectator in her own life.
“Me lady, the two could be completely unrelated,” Goraidh volunteered. “But something is not sitting right with me. William?”
“I agree. Lass, think hard, is there anything else ye may have learned that could help us figure this out?” He grabbed both of her hands in his own, strong hands. Emma sighed. How could such a large man, a warrior like William, have such a tender touch? His hands were rough and calloused, yet they were filled with warmth and comfort.
“He said if I refused to marry the man, Belmonte, he would have me sent to an asylum. William, you can’t let me go back there. I can’t go to an asylum. I’ve heard of the horrors that happen in those places.”
From people in the village when she went visiting, she had heard tales of dark, horrible places where the insane were sent. They were never heard from again. She would not allow herself to be sent away. She would rather die first.
The thoughts caused Emma to shiver violently and William pulled her close. Wrapping his massive arms around her, he said words softly to her in a language she didn’t understand. She made out the word angel and a word she had never heard of— bòidheach.
What does that word mean? She wondered.
“Ye’ve been through too much lass, too much,” he said, kissing her hair. “I think it’s strange that yer brother was all for me marrying ye but the second yer Da dies, he has another fer ye ta wed.”
“I agree,” Goraidh said with a frown. “Its too quick of a change fer me peace of mind.”
“Aye… too quick indeed,” William added. His gray eyes were shifting, possibly as he chased his thoughts. “Could it be that this man knew all this was going to happen? Is so, we need to go to France an’ find this Pierre Belmonte. He may very well hold the key to all of this mystery, my bòidheach, me lovely lass.”
“Nay, William. Ye need to stay here with the lass. Ye need to hide. Let me go to France.” Goraidh spoke up. Decisions were being made very quickly around her.
Surely, he can’t mean to go to France?
“Do you really think you’ll find answers in France?”
“Aye, Lass, it canna be a simple coincidence. And what about Finley?” William asked Goraidh. Emma searched her memory. The only Finley she knew was William’s friend.
“What about Finley?” She asked, pulling herself out of William’s embrace. She moved over to a chair beside the hearth. There was no fire, but she felt more comfortable sitting, regardless.
“I agree, he was acting strangely,” Goraidh replied, speaking only to William.
William and Goraidh started discussing various situations wherein Finley, whom she knew to be their friend and fellow clansman, was partnering with Belmonte. They were trying to connect situations, any situation, of how Finley could have possibly gotten in contact with the Frenchman but William did not know how that could be possible.
“He doesnae travel an’ moreover, he hates anyone who isnae a Scot, so how would he even do such a thing? And besides, we dinnae ken about this Belmonte after Emma told us so. There is something missin’ here.”
There were no fitting explanations, of course, but the longer they spoke, the more outlandish their theories seemed to become, and the
angrier Emma got.
“Excuse me?” Neither William or Goraidh turned, still locked in conversation as if Emma wasn’t in the room. “Ahem…” She tried clearing her throat to no avail. “What about FINLEY?”
Their conversation stopped and both men turned with a dropped jaw. Emma hated raising her voice, a lady would never do such in mixed company after all, but at the moment she felt she was only marginally important to the conversation that had everything to do with her, her family, and keeping her safe.
“Och, lass, I’m afraid we owe ye an apology don’t we?” An apology would be a good place to start. William at least had the decency to look ashamed. The other one, Goraidh, just stood there slack-jawed.
“I should think so! Certainly, you aren’t speaking of the same Finley you introduced me to at your keep? At the feast?”
“Aye, lass, one and tha’ same. He followed us here from Scotland. Said he was sent by me Da to keep an eye on me so that me temper did nae cause me to do something rash. But something about his story, and the look in his eye when he confronted us last eve, right here in this very cabin, did nae sit right with me, or Goraidh. Ain’t that right?”
“Aye,” Goraidh confirmed. Emma leaned against the back of the hearth chair. Was it possible then, the conspiracy to murder her father was larger than anyone had realized?
“And where is this Finley now?”
“Just this mornin’ we sent him back to Scotland with a message for me Da,” William said. He tried to approach her, but Emma stood and backed away. She didn’t need comfort again, she needed to think.
“Do you think Finley murdered my father?” If they already had their suspicions and they could be easily proven, then perhaps—?
“Lass,” William said. “I ken what yer thinkin’. If Finley had done it an’ we tell Marston, he will still not let ye marry me. Not if the deal with Belmonte is at stake. The only way we can clear me family’s name is to somehow prove Finley was in cahoots with this Frenchman. That is the only way the new Earl will be likely to believe we MacNairs had naethin’ to do with yer father’s death.”
Of course, he was right. She couldn’t go to her brother with only half information. But what if Thomas and his men found them before they were able to clear William’s name? They had to leave England—it was not safe there. However, the three of them would be blatantly obvious on the shores of France. Goraidh, as a tradesman, would surely move faster to gather the information they sought there.
Yet, they couldn’t risk traveling to the MacNair keep, as any sight of Emma would probably prod the Chief to send her back to England and she could not go back to her home. What were they to do? She sat again and placed her head in her hands. There had to be a way.
“I have an idea,” she said, looking up at both men.
Chapter 14
“And what if Goraidh is unsuccessful, me lady?” William asked. Emma was determined but he needed to be sure that she understood what she was about to do. It would be no easy thing to leave the life of comfort she had known to go into hiding with him.
“He will not be unsuccessful. I know he won’t be” she replied, turning to his friend, her eyes filled with earnest expectation. Pride filled him and Goraidh bowed deeply.
“Nay. There will be an answer to our question,” he replied.
“And I believe yer right me lady, that answer lies in France,” William added. “But we doona ken how long it could be and the journey could be treacherous. I should go with you, friend.” The fight was not Goraidh’s fight, it was his own. They should see Emma safely settled and travel to France together.
“William, that would be a bad idea. I should go alone,” Goraidh said. “Ye are the heir to the lairdship of our clan, and Lady Emma is yer betrothed. Ye need to stay here, keep both of ye safe as we do not know if there is a traitor at the MacNairs Clan. The threat could come from more than just Finley. He’s nay smart enough to come up with somethin’ like this on his own.”
“Aye, friend. I doona like sendin’ ye on yer own, but yer points are good ones. We need to get out of England, and back to our own lands. How long do ye think it will take ye in France before we can meet again?” William asked.
“A fortnight, news or no, I will return. We should meet at the inn in Galashiels, just inside the border. Ye ken the one?”
“If the old woman with one eye still runs tha’ place, then I ken it well.” The inn Goraidh spoke of was a day’s ride from the border, and two days from the Northumberland lands that belonged to Emma’s family. “It is safe if Lady Emma and I lay low in Scotland.”
“I know of a crofter’s cottage, ye’ll have to ride north of Galashiels to get to it. The further inside the border ye are, tha’ safer I think ye’ll both be. Ye’ll have to do a bit of huntin’ in the surroundin’ woods, but it should keep ye well. No one around for many miles. Ye’ll draw no attention.”
William knew better than to ask how his friend knew of such a place. There was much about Goraidh’s life away from the clan that was a mystery. At this moment, though, he was grateful for the man’s resources and secrecy.
“What do ye say, me lady? Are ye up for a journey?” He reached out a tentative hand to Emma. It was a lot to ask, but when she approached the idea, he knew she was willing to do whatever it took. She wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery as much as he did, and she knew the risk was great.
Her eyes had been missing the brightness he saw that first night at the feast, and William would do whatever it took to bring that light back. She looked up and gave him a weak smile. “Aye, me friend. Let us go before the dawn rises and Thomas sends his men.”
* * *
Emma fit snuggly against him on the horse. As they bid their farewell to the cabin and rode west, William wrapped one easy arm about her waist. He told himself it was to protect her from falling as they rode quickly through the night. However, the feel of her tight against him gave him peace. As long as he held her, she was safe from harm.
“How long do you think it will take to get to Scotland?” she asked.
“If we ride through the night, we should get nearly halfway to the border by dawn.”
They could have crossed the border sooner, but William felt that he knew how Marston’s mind would work. He would not be sure where his sister ran to. He would underestimate her and send men to watch the main roads to the East and North.
Instead, William made the decision to ride West before turning to the North. As soon as they could hear the waves crashing the shore from the North Sea, he would turn. Once they crossed the border, he would get them a room at an inn under assumed names and change horses.
“Why will it take so long?” Emma tried to turn in the saddle to face him, but he held her firm. He was unfamiliar with the horse and didn’t want to give the beast any reason to spook. They had already been through that once.
“By now, lass, yer brother has already discovered yer missin’. But he may not yet suspect yer with me. In fact, we’re countin’ that he will nae.”
“That still doesn’t explain taking a longer route. Wouldn’t that put us in greater danger?”
“Yer brother would underestimate ye, me lady. He would expect ye to run, but wouldn’t think that ye’d venture off the main road. After all, ‘twas the main road that ye took back from me lands.”
“So, by taking a different backwoods route, we are essentially throwing Thomas off our scent?”
“Aye, lass. Once we cross, I’ll find an Inn. We’ll sleep during the day, and travel with the night.”
“We’ll have to pose as a married couple. If Thomas truly thinks I’m traveling alone, he’ll not think to send his men looking for the both of us,” Emma propositioned.
“And will that bother ye lass, posin’ as me wife?” He slowed the horse and turned her to face him.
He knew he shouldn’t care about her answer. She was here with him now, and not sitting at dinner telling the Earl she would marry the Frenchman. She trusted him, of that Wi
lliam was certain. But if Emma was worried about posing as his wife, did that mean she wasn’t truly ready to honor their betrothal, as she had said?
“Of course not, we will be married soon enough.” She placed her palm on his face. He closed his eyes at the softness of her touch. “It would not be a lie. But what of your father’s men, won’t they also be searching for us at some point?”
Och, she was a smart lass.
He was sure to have his hands filled with her bright questions and inquisitive mind in the years to come. William surprised himself that he rather liked it. He would have never been content with a weak and docile lady and gladly, Emma was neither of those things. He held her tighter.
“Not if Finley returned to the keep, and delivered my message to my father. But if he did nae, he could still be close by, and that worries me. If he is truly involved in yer father’s murder, we still doona ken his motivations. He was against our match from the beginning, yer not safe in his sights. We’ll have to be careful.”
Disciplined by the Highlander: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 11
