Elysande stared at him blankly, her only thought that if not for that mistake Rory might have been married to this Evina and not here in England when she’d needed him most.
“Did she write about our Geordie and his Dwyn too?” Rory prompted when she continued to stare at him with dismay.
Elysande blinked away her own concerns, and nodded slightly. “She said your sister and the other wives copied her idea and gathered a bunch of eligible ladies together at Buchanan who could offer you and your still-single brothers advantageous marriages. The hope was that you would each find one you liked. She said you and Alick had not met anyone you wished to marry, but Geordie settled on Dwyn.”
“I would no’ say Geordie settled on her. He and Dwyn are quite in love . . . and as per usual with my family, their courtship was no’ as smooth as yer aunt’s letter apparently made it sound. But aye, they are married and he is laird o’ Innes now.”
Elysande pondered that, wondering how the courtship had not been smooth, but before she could ask, Rory said, “So, Lady Bearnas wrote to yer mother, and ye say she read her letters to you and your father by the fire at night?”
“Aye. Aunt Bearnas’s letters were always entertaining. Especially when she wrote about your family.”
“So, ye have the advantage,” he said, and when she looked uncertain, he pointed out, “In a way ye knew me before we ever met, whereas I had never even heard of you.”
“Mayhap,” she agreed with a faint smile. “But the last letter was quite a while ago. We have all been waiting patiently to see which brother would marry next. Have you or Alick married, or are the women in your family still trying to find you wives?”
Oddly enough, Elysande found herself a bit tense as she waited for his answer. It had never occurred to her that Rory might have a wife back in Scotland, awaiting his return, but now that it had, she found the idea distressing.
“Nay. Alick and I are no’ married,” Rory said.
Elysande released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“But aye, the women in our family are doing their best to change that,” Rory added, his mouth twisting slightly with disgruntlement. “Every time Alick and I return home we find the place packed full o’ prospective brides. ’Tis becoming tiresome.”
“Oh,” she murmured, but her lips twitched at his put-upon air.
“What?” he asked, his eyes narrowing on her expression.
“Nothing,” she assured him quickly, but then couldn’t resist saying, “I mean, I do understand. It must be terrible having so many people who love you and put themselves out to try to see you happily settled in an advantageous marriage.”
“Well, when ye put it like that, lass,” Rory said with a wry smile, and then his smile faded. “It must have been lonely growing up without any brothers or sisters.”
Elysande lowered her gaze to the fur. It had been lonely. Growing up, she’d often wished she had a sister to play with, or share secrets with, but she was only now realizing what else she’d missed out on by being an only child. Unlike Rory, she didn’t have any siblings who cared and wished to see her happily settled in marriage. She would have liked that, but merely said, “’Tis for the best that I did not have any brothers or sisters. De Buci would have just killed or abused them too, and ’tis doubtful we would have escaped if there had been more than just myself.”
“Aye,” Rory said with a frown, examining her face solemnly.
Elysande withstood it for as long as she could and then shrugged. “I am sure whomever I marry will have them though, and perhaps can share them with me. Well, if I marry,” she added with uncertainty.
“Why would ye no’ marry?” Rory asked at once, and then added, “Why are ye no’ married already, lass? Ye’re old enough to be wed. And surely yer father arranged a betrothal contract fer ye when ye were a child?”
“Aye, he did,” she assured him. “But the boy I was to marry died when I was eleven.”
“And yer father did no’ arrange another marriage contract?” Rory asked with surprise.
“He was going to, but said most of the good prospects were already contracted to others.” She grimaced. “And then too, what he wanted for a husband for me had changed by then.”
“In what way?” Rory asked.
“Well, when he made the first contract, I was just a bairn. He chose the eldest son of a wealthy lord who had his own castle to leave him. Father had assumed he would have a son someday to take over Kynardersley,” she pointed out. “But by the time my betrothed died when I was eleven, he was resigned to the fact that I would be his only heir. He no longer wanted a titled lord with his own castle. He said he needed a special man, someone without his own estates to distract him, but with the skills to keep Kynardersley safe and prosperous, and who would also treat me well.” Elysande smiled wryly. “Apparently that was not an easy man to find. He was still looking.”
“I see,” Rory murmured thoughtfully.
Elysande shrugged. “I suppose the king will have to arrange my marriage now. Or assign another lord to the task.” She grimaced and muttered, “Which is unfortunate.”
“Why is that?” Rory asked.
“Because I doubt the king or anyone he saddles with the duty will be as concerned as my father was that any prospective husband would treat me well,” she pointed out quietly.
Rory’s eyes widened slightly with realization at her words, and then his mouth turned down. “Elysande—” he began, and then broke off as they heard the stable door open. In the next moment, he’d leapt to his feet and moved to look down into the stables. It was only when his shoulders relaxed and the hand holding his sword dropped to his side that she realized he’d grabbed it from the floor where it had lain while they’d been talking.
“’Tis fine. ’Tis the men,” Rory assured her, and moved to the ladder to greet them as they began to climb up.
Elysande didn’t comment, merely closed her eyes and tried to relax, hoping sleep would come. Her last thought as the men began to settle around her was to wonder what Rory had been going to say before the men had arrived.
Rory was the last to lie down after the men returned. This time he settled with his back to Elysande as he usually did. The men’s presence wouldn’t allow for a continuation of their conversation. Probably a good thing, Rory thought. Because he’d been about to say something utterly ridiculous. He’d been about to suggest that she marry him. The idea had struck him out of the blue. A response from his gut to the idea of her being married off to someone who wouldn’t treat her well. Elysande was smart, sweet, caring and brave. She deserved a man who would care for her and treat her well. But he doubted the king would concern himself much with that consideration, despite her present efforts to save his life.
Still, offering to marry her was a ridiculous sacrifice to make for a lass he barely knew, Rory acknowledged. Good Lord, he didn’t even know if she would be married off to someone cruel or careless. The English king might choose a good, kind and honorable man for her to marry, Rory told himself. Which, oddly enough, didn’t comfort him much as he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 8
“M’lady. Psst. M’lady.”
Elysande opened her eyes sleepily and blinked around, trying to understand where the sound was coming from.
“From below, lass,” Conn’s deep voice said from somewhere over her head. He sounded very alert, and since she knew none of the men stood guard at night here, she suspected he’d woken at the sound of the stable doors opening and shifted into immediate wakefulness.
“Thank you,” Elysande mumbled to the man, and then, still half-asleep, she planted her hands and started to push herself up only to cry out and drop back down again as pain shot through her back. Her cry was joined by Rory’s as she apparently did him some injury and it was only then she realized she was lying on the man again as she had been every morning since the Buchanans had agreed to escort her to Sinclair.
“M’lady?”
&nb
sp; “She’s comin’,” someone whispered down to the woman just before Elysande found herself grasped under the arms and lifted off Rory . . . by Conn, she realized when a torch suddenly burst to life in the lower part of the stable. The big warrior smiled at her bemused expression and then twisted his upper body to set her down away from the other men now stirring and starting to sit up.
“Thank you,” Elysande managed through gritted teeth as she rode the wave of pain still pulsing through her. She started to turn then toward the ladder, only to find Rory in her way. He was wincing and standing funny, but the wince was replaced with a frown as he took in her expression.
“Sit,” he said firmly, urging her to one of the bales at the side of the loft. Pushing her onto it, Rory then walked to the ladder.
“Can ye come up?” he asked in a low rumble. “Her back is painin’ her this morn.”
“Oh, aye, of course. The liniment will have worn off,” their landlady said at once in a hushed voice, and Elysande heard the ladder shake a bit as she started up.
By the time Mildrede reached the loft, every man was awake and on his feet at the opposite end of the loft from Elysande, as if to offer them the chance to talk in private. And despite her waking them, the men all greeted the alewife with quiet good morns and curious expressions that only became worried when they noted her pallor and distress.
“What is it, Mildrede?” Elysande asked with concern, catching the older woman’s elbow and drawing her to sit on the bale next to her when she rushed to her side. The woman was still wearing her nightclothes under the blanket she’d pulled around her shoulders, her hair was standing up every which way and she was clutching a bag to her chest. She’d obviously been roused from her own sleep by something, and it had been distressing enough that she hadn’t even dressed before hurrying out to them.
“English soldiers,” Mildrede gasped anxiously, a little breathless from her rush to reach them.
“Where?” Rory asked sharply, giving up any pretense of allowing them privacy and moving to stand in front of them. The rest of the men were right behind him, faces grim.
“In the taproom,” Mildrede moaned, and then shook her head. “Elizabeth came ahead to warn us, but we were up so late, and didn’t hear her pounding at the door. She had the devil of a time waking us, and finally just barged in and ran up to our room. Scared the life right out of me to wake to her shaking me arm.”
“Oh, dear,” Elysande murmured sympathetically.
Rory was more concerned with the soldiers. “What are the soldiers doing in the taproom?”
“Drinking ale by now, I should think. Albert was fetching it for them when I slipped out to warn you.”
All the men blinked at this news, and then Rory said slowly, “So a bunch of English soldiers are drinking ale in yer taproom?”
“Aye.”
When he looked a bit bewildered as to what to make of that, Mildrede shifted impatiently. “They’re looking for you lot. Well, for Lady Elysande, really. But—”
“How do ye ken that?” Rory interrupted with alarm.
“Because the first thing they did when my Albert answered to their banging was ask if he’d seen an English lady traveling with two English soldiers, and possibly some Scottish warriors as well,” Mildrede explained with exasperation. “It must be you lot.”
“What did Albert say?” Rory asked at once.
“He said nay,” Mildrede assured him with a frown for even asking. “Said ’twas a shame though because we could use the coin and would have overcharged ye horribly if ye’d come to us.”
Rory didn’t comment on the fact that they’d done just that. After all, Mildrede and Albert had more than made up for it by feeding them and allowing them to stay a second night free of charge. “Right. So he said nay . . . and then invited them in fer ale?” His voice rose a bit at the end with his upset.
“I told him to,” Mildrede informed him with some dignity. “I figured it was better we know where they are if we’re to get you all out without encountering them. So I said to him, ‘Albert, you say nay if they ask do we have Lady Elysande or any Scots here, and then say as how they must be fair cold and thirsty if they just rode in, and offer them ale on the house they can drink by the fire to warm up, and then keep ’em here as long as ye can so I can get Lady Elysande and those men away.’ Then I slipped into the kitchen, grabbed some things and hurried out here to wake and warn ye.”
“Oh, Mildrede, that was brilliant,” Elysande praised when Rory just gaped at her.
Shoulders slumping, Mildrede managed a worried smile. “I thought so, but now I’m worrying that if they stay too long, they’ll want to put their horses in the stables rather than leave them out front as they are now. The man standing out there with them will surely want some ale and to warm up too.”
That suggestion had a galvanizing effect. The men were suddenly moving for the ladder and hurrying down it one behind the other, even as Rory caught Elysande’s elbow and urged her to her feet. “Time to go, lass.”
“Aye, I—” Her words ended on a gasp of surprise as they reached the ladder and, rather than urging her to climb down, Rory suddenly picked her up and dangled her over the side by her upper arms. Before she could squawk in alarm, she felt hands at her hips, clasping her and taking her weight when Rory released her.
“Thank you,” Elysande whispered as Conn set her down on the stable floor, and then turned at a startled sound from Mildrede to see Rory handing her down the same way and Inan there to take the alewife.
“Oh, my,” Mildrede breathed, looking a little stunned as Inan set her down next to Elysande.
“English soldiers,” Alick growled as he worked to saddle the horse in the stall next to where Elysande and Mildrede were standing. “They must have arrived at Carlisle ere we did and been staying at the inn the whole time. Somehow they must have got word that an English lady was spotted walking about with two English soldiers and a bunch of Scots yesterday, and decided to start the search early this morn and catch us abed.”
“Nay,” Mildrede said, appearing surprised at the suggestion. “They only arrived this morning with the dawn. Did I not mention that?”
“Nay,” Elysande assured her. “You left that bit out.”
“Oh. Well, Elizabeth said she’d only been awake for minutes and was emptying her chamber pot out the window when she saw the portcullis was being opened to let someone in. The minute she saw it was English soldiers and that they’d stopped to ask questions of the men at the gate, she worried this would be trouble for ye. So, she sent her young Jimmy down to see what he could hear. He came back saying they was asking after an English lady and two English soldiers what might be traveling with Scots. She knew then it must be de Buci’s men here about you and came to warn ye. She said she would have rushed straight to the stables, but she was afraid the Scots might be quick with their swords and kill her ere she could explain the problem.”
Elysande bit her lip as she noticed the way Rory’s men all stiffened at that suggestion.
Rory, however, didn’t seem to care about that. He was looking amazed as he asked, “How did this Elizabeth woman ken it must be about Elysande? Who is she?”
“The draper’s wife,” Elysande explained, and he whirled on her with shock.
“Ye told the draper’s wife about de Buci when ye stopped there fer plaids?” he asked with disbelief.
“She was very kind,” Elysande said apologetically. “And very upset about my face. She assumed your men had done it, and I could not have her thinking that when you are all risking yourselves to aid me.”
“So ye told her everything?” he asked, his voice raising.
“Elizabeth is a faithful subject to our king,” Elysande said firmly, aware that Mildrede was nodding in agreement beside her. “She has a portrait of him in her shop for all to see. And,” she added firmly when he opened his mouth as if to respond, “she has proven she is loyal by coming to warn us, has she not?”
Rory blinked at
that, and then scowled, tossed the rolled-up fur to Simon and stomped into his horse’s stall to quickly saddle his horse. As he then hooked her bags to his pommel, he asked, “Did she mention if they kept the portcullis up, or closed it again, Mildrede?”
“She said they left it up,” Mildrede said at once. “She said the snow has melted enough that the roads are clear and they expect a lot of people coming and going so didn’t bother closing it.”
“Good,” Rory said grimly as he finished saddling his mount.
“Why is that good?” Elysande asked as she watched him.
“Because with the soldier out in front of the alehouse, we are going to have to charge out of here at speed and straight out the gates.” He grimaced and then added, “And pray to God they’ve been riding all night, have exhausted their horses and our well-rested horses can outrun them and leave them behind quickly.”
“But Robbie should be along any minute to lead you out the back gate so you needn’t risk the front,” Mildrede said with a frown.
Rory froze at those words and turned narrowed eyes on Mildrede. “Who’s Robbie?”
Mildrede took a nervous step back from the fury in his gaze, but said, “The blacksmith.”
Rory nodded slowly, repeatedly, and then whirled on Elysande and snapped, “Is there anyone in this godforsaken city that ye’ve no’ told about de Buci?”
When Elysande’s jaw dropped at his show of temper, it was Conn who stepped forward and pointed out quietly, “She could not have told the blacksmith. We have not gone to the blacksmith’s since reaching Carlisle, and she has not been out of my sight since we arrived.”
When Rory merely closed his eyes and dropped his head briefly, muttering, “Right,” Elysande snapped her mouth closed and glared at him.
It was Mildrede who stepped forward and said, “I’m the one who told the blacksmith. In fact, I told several shop owners that I considered trustworthy about Lady Elysande’s situation.” She emphasized Lady Elysande as if to say he had no right to be angry about it. Chin lifting, she added, “And I did so because I was worried about just such a situation as this. I thought it might be best to have some people watching out for any English soldiers who might arrive looking for her, and it appears I was right to be worried. Thank goodness Elizabeth spotted them and came to warn me. Had the soldiers arrived first and not been able to rouse us from our beds, they would not have simply come inside and shaken me awake as Elizabeth did. I’m sure they would have simply walked around back to check the stables for horses ere moving on to the next alehouse or inn. And had they done that, they’d have caught you all sleeping.”
Highland Treasure EPB Page 12