Fair Border Bride

by Jen Black

  The straw rustled as he shifted position. ‘I know your voice, of course. And you need to be more careful if you want to creep up on people.”

  Scrabbling beneath her skirts she brought out the small leather water flask. “I’ve brought bread and a hunk of cheese. It was all I could get tonight.”

  “My mouth waters at the thought.”

  “Where shall I put them? I cannot see.” She groped a step forward. “It is so dark in here.”

  “Here, beside me. Better if I don’t move around too much.”

  Moving toward the sound of his voice, she stooped and then hesitated, unsure.

  His hand clamped about her wrist and made her jump. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. ‘Yes, I do. You saved me from the bull.”

  “Ah. So you feel obligated, and over an incident I cannot remember.” There was a short silence. “Consider your debt discharged. Helping me will jeopardise you, and I cannot allow that.”

  She could make him out now, a vague shape in the dim light. She plonked the cheese at his side.

  “I know the risks. I want to help. If you prefer I could always hand you over to the Lord Warden. Always assuming you have not forgotten them. Sir John Forster, and Sir Thomas Wharton.”

  “Wharton?” He sighed. “I feel I ought to know the man, but I could not even tell them my name. And why would you hand me over to them?”

  She had no intention of doing so, but his response had been interesting. “In this part of the world, not knowing your name could be as much an asset as a drawback. Can you recall nothing?”

  “Very little. It is an odd feeling. You said there was a raid here last night?”

  She nodded. “They took all our cattle, and Father is out after them now.”

  “He did not wait for the Warden?”

  “Father believes in doing the job himself. A Hot Trod is lawful, he has the men and the horses, and would rather be after the rogues at first light than scurrying off trying to find Sir John while the trail goes cold.”

  “He has but six days to recover whatever stolen goods he may.”

  “You can remember that? How odd.”

  “It is, isn’t it?’ He sounded amused rather than anxious.

  “Father might not be away the whole six days. He might lose the trail, for the wretched reivers know every track and rabbit run in the hills. He could be back at first light.”

  “And already you regret helping me?” His voice held a warm, teasing note, as if he smiled at her. “You could deny all knowledge of me.” He shifted against the wall. “I could have found this old stable without your help.”

  “How could I? You were hurt, and you saved my life. I don’t regret helping you. I haven’t done much except bring bread and cheese.” She hesitated. “I could say I never saw you, but Mama would find that hard to believe. She is already curious about the time I spend with my horse. She doesn’t like to be alone when Father is away, and it is worse because my brother Lionel rides with him for the first time. She fears for both, and wants me with her always.”

  “So she will remember how much time you spend out in the fields,’ he said. You had better return at once.” There was a new, authoritative tone to his voice that she had not heard before. He spoke like a man used to command others.

  “I do not want you to take more risks, Alina. You have done enough. Go now.”

  Chapter Six

  Alina rushed through her tasks next day anxious to give the impression that she had nothing more exciting than a pleasant hour’s reading in the orchard in mind. After pottering about for an hour, Mama gave the servants their instructions, and then went downstairs to sit with her invalid brother-in-law. Alina gave her a few moments to settle and then whisked out through the storeroom and down to the fields.

  Already the sun had burned off the overnight dampness. She ran into Dragon’s stable and dumped half a stotty cake and a wizened apple beside Harry. “It’s fresh made and there’s cheese inside. How do you feel this morning?”

  “More cheese.” He grinned as he opened the cloth.

  “Beggars can’t ever be choosers.” She regarded him steadily in the daylight filtering through the door of the cabin. His hair flopped over his brow, his beard had come in overnight and he looked older with the dark fuzz along his jaw. Much more mature; a man, not a boy.

  A small hot dart flickered through her innards and vanished.

  He bit into the round of bread and cheese.

  Alina ran her palms down the blue linen of her skirt and wondered if he would notice how much care she had taken with her appearance today. The pleats of her fine linen chemise had taken some time to arrange so that they showed to her satisfaction in the wide neckline of her bodice, and the gold cross, a last minute addition, hopefully drew attention to her breasts.

  She tossed his bonnet to him. “I found that in my pocket last night.” She did not add that she had slept with it under her pillow in case someone should find it and ask awkward questions.

  He nodded, and went on eating with furious energy. But then, he’d had little yesterday, and she knew from experience how desperate her brothers became if not fed every few hours.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your appetite,” she observed. “Good.”

  He met her gaze and held it as he chewed and swallowed. “You look pretty this morning. I experimented, too. I walked to the stream and back without falling once.” He took another bite, found the cheese and groaned in appreciation. “This is good.”

  Apprehension hit her like a blow to the stomach and eclipsed his remark about her looks. “I hope no one saw you. I brought you water last night. You had no need to wander outside.”

  Still chewing, he shook his head. “I checked first, Alina. No one saw me. Now I know I can walk, I shall leave tonight, under cover of darkness. I do not care to bring trouble upon you.”

  She sniffed, unhappy about his decision, but unwilling to admit it. However dangerous it was, she wanted him to stay, but knew that such a thing was not sensible. “We agreed that travelling in the dark brought about your present predicament. Where will you go? You cannot remember who you are, so how will you know where to go?’

  “Because I rode into the branch once doesn’t mean I’ll do it every time I ride in the dark. It doesn’t really matter where I go.”

  He thought of her safety before his own. She mulled that over for a while, and found she liked him for it. “There’s an old sunken track through the fields,” she said. “Follow it and you’ll reach Dere Street, the old road north.”

  He wolfed down the last of the bread and cheese and got to his feet. “Show me.”

  She’d forgotten how tall he was. Even though he steadied himself with one hand on the wall, he positively towered over her.

  “You’re not exactly fit yet, are you?”

  “Fit enough.” He got to the door and bit back a soft exclamation. His hand clenched on the doorjamb and he squinted at Alina over his shoulder. “Who are these two?”

  A hand clamped around her heart. Surely they had not been discovered? Then common sense reasserted itself and she guessed who stood there. Alina rushed to the door and gazed down at her younger brothers.

  “Lance! Cuddy! What are you doing here?”

  The boys’ hazel eyes, true Carnaby eyes, flickered from Alina to the stranger and away again. Lance backed a step or two, grabbed his brother’s arm and dragged Cuddy with him.

  “We c-came to see if we c-could have a r-r-ride,” Lance stuttered. Cuddy peeped around Lance’s shoulder. “On Dragon.” Lance collected his wits and glared at his sister. “Who’s he?”

  Behind her brothers the sun lit the meadow with a green radiance, and the blue sky hung like a huge bowl behind the Halton trees. A few yards away, Dragon cropped the grass, her tail rhythmically swishing away flies. Everything seemed peaceful, but Alina knew her secret was out.

  Her mouth dry, she walked out of the stable, stood beside the two b
oys and placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder, which he immediately twitched away. A swift jab of hurt rushed through her, and she slung a protective arm around Cuddy’s shoulders.

  “These are my brothers,” she said to Harry. “Lance is almost fourteen and Cuthbert is seven. Now what do we do?”

  Harry stared at them, and the boys, wide-eyed, stared back. After a moment, a wicked grin curled the ends of Harry’s mouth. “Can you keep a secret, lads?”

  Cuddy looked at Lance, who did not hesitate. “Of course,” he said with a hint of a sneer.

  Alina bit her lip. “It’s hardly fair to involve them. Father has a swift temper, and he’ll whip them if he finds out they knew you were here and said nothing.”

  Harry shrugged. “But they know I’m here now, so what else can we do?” His blue eyes met hers. “Unless I go now, this minute.”

  “But it’s not safe, someone will see you!”

  “Then we don’t have much choice, do we?” His eyes crinkled with amusement, and his smile was warm.

  She did not like his logic, but could not argue with it.

  Lance stepped forward. “We can keep a secret.” His scowl dared his sister to contradict him. “And we’ve been whipped before. We know what it’s like. What’s the secret?”

  Cuddy, his eyes as round as those of an owl, nodded several times.

  An absurd rush of pride in them made Alina smile. “Good for you,” she whispered.

  Harry bent his long legs, slid down the doorjamb and sat in the sunshine. “Sit, lads, and let me tell you a story.”

  The two boys squatted in front of him, Cuddy’s thick brown hose stretched about his knees. Lance, stalwart as ever, sat and stared at Harry. Then Harry glanced her way and her brothers followed suit. All three were waiting for her.

  Lance frowned. “Sit, Ally.”

  In that strange way of children, they had somehow judged Harry and accepted him. They wanted to help. She wasn’t sure if it was wise to involve them, but after a swift glance around to see that they were unobserved, she sat, her back to the doorjamb and remained silent. She was as curious as they to hear whatever Harry decided to tell them.

  “You’ll laugh at this, lads,’ he began. ‘Remember my feelings and don’t laugh too loud. I rode out a couple of nights ago, and lost my way in the forest.” He gestured to the ravine behind them. “Then, to make things worse, I rode into a tree branch and cracked my skull. There, do ye see the bruise?” He pulled his hair back to show them the purple swelling on his forehead.

  Cuddy’s round hazel eyes widened. “Doth it hurt?” He only lisped when he was nervous, which wasn’t often.

  “Don’t be daft. Of course it hurts.” Lance wriggled as he turned to Harry. “Go on.”

  “It laid me out unconscious for the best part of the night. Bessie must have been going at a fair lick up the hill when I connected with the old oak tree by the stream.

  He hesitated.

  Alina met his swift, considering look. He hadn’t been able to remember the name of his mare yesterday, but now he had. He looked vaguely surprised, and shook his head as if to sort out whatever memories existed within his mind.

  A warm glow enveloped Alina as she watched him. He handled the boys well, in spite of his worries. Perhaps lack of memory meant no worries at all. Whichever it was, she found herself content to sit back and listen. His voice was mellow, and if her gaze lingered on his mouth, travelled now and then to his muscular throat, sometimes settled on his long limbs, why should it not?

  She liked the way he used his hands to help shape the picture he put together for her brothers, admired the way he sounded his words so clearly and in such contrast to the slurred speech around her every day. She could listen to him forever and never grow bored.

  Lance gazed out over the field. “But where—”

  “Bessie is hobbled further along the stream. Out of sight of prying eyes like yours,” Alina told him.

  They all looked at Harry.

  “So…there I was, sleeping like a baby when your sister found me next morning. Your father rode off after the raiders and she helped me into the stable. I’ve been asleep ever since.”

  Lance looked at her with mingled respect and puzzlement. “Why didn’t you bring him to the house?”

  “I couldn’t, Lance.” Already, away from her mother’s sharp ears, she heard herself echoing her brothers’ casual speech patterns.

  “Why not? Mother loves guests, you know that.”

  “His name is Harry Scott.”

  “Oh.” Lance looked from Alina to Harry and back again. “Really? Like the Scott family across the Border?” His lip curled back from his teeth. “You’re one of them?”

  His tone indicated exactly how he thought of the unfortunate Scott family.

  “I’m afraid he might be,” Alina said. “And you know how Father feels about the Scotts.”

  Lance grimaced and ran his forefinger across his throat.

  “Why does he hate them?” Harry linked his fingers together and stretched them in front of him. The joints cracked, and Cuddy flinched.

  “You, you mean. Why does he hate you? If you’re one of them,” Lance challenged.

  “It’s a long story.” Alina rushed to cover the awkward moment. “Uncle Reynold made himself unpopular with a reiver called Archie Scott. Archie led a revenge raid against Uncle’s lands at Halton and Whittington. He caused a lot of damage. When Uncle followed, they led him into a trap, and it cost a fortune to free him. Then last year a gang of the Scott family assaulted him and his father at the Stagshaw Midsummer Fair.”

  “Uncle Reynold never went out again after reivers.” Lance took up the story. “Now Father’s gone instead. He says it’s because Uncle Reynold’s too ill to go, but I think it’s because Uncle’s scared of the Scotts.”

  “However much you think it, you should not say it, Lance. Especially not in front of strangers,’ Alina said. ‘Uncle Reynold is really very ill.”

  “That’s right, Lance. You don’t know who I am.” Harry stopped short, as if he’d remembered something unpalatable. He waved his hands in the air. “I don’t know who I am.”

  The boys exchanged puzzled glances. Lance voiced what they were both thinking. “You mean hitting the tree branch knocked your brains out?”

  Harry chuckled. “No. It means my memory isn’t working very well at the moment. It’s a temporary state, I hope.”

  “What will you do if it dothn’t ever work again?” Cuddy’s voice reminded Alina of a reed whistle.

  Alina frowned. “Of course his memory will come back.”

  Lance swung round on her. “But how long will it take?”

  “Maybe a few days, but I hope not.”

  Lance stared at Harry with new respect. “Can’t you remember anything?”

  “Well, I can remember how to talk, for a start. And I can remember how to ride, and my horse’s name. She’ll take me to Edinburgh without any bother, and—”

  In the sudden vast, empty silence, Alina leant forward, her teeth sunk in her lip. He’d obviously recalled something.

  Harry sat immobile, his gaze on Lance as if the boy had given him all the answers he needed. Lance opened his mouth, but Alina shushed him with a movement of her hand.

  “Phew!” Harry drew his fingers down his cheeks so hard she could see the pink inner rims of his eyes. He ran his hands over the top of his head, and his fingers clasped at the nape of his neck. As he tensed his spine against the pull of his clasped hands, he laughed in delight and Alina realised how much the memory loss must have worried him. When he let go and looked at them all, there was a new, brighter sparkle in his eyes and all the lines of his face curved up.

  Alina could not match his joy. She could not summon even the briefest smile. If he had remembered everything, he’d leave at once.

  “What’s the matter?” Lance asked Harry.

  “I know who I am.”

  “You’ve remembered? Your memory has come back?” Cuddy beamed.
<
br />   Harry nodded and turned to Alina. “You told me my name was Harry Scott, and of course I believed you. But now I know it, I know it all…I can remember my father, my home and why I am going to Edinburgh—I can remember everything.”

  ***

  Harry kept his thoughts private. He talked with the boys, assured them that though his name was Scott he was not related to those dastardly Scotts north of the border, and all the time he knew he must ride north and forget about their sister. He should never have been this close to Aydon.

  He cursed the whim that took him in this direction. She was an attractive girl, and would make some country gentleman a suitable wife one day soon, but the wife of his dreams must be a rich heiress. He had wasted two whole days when he should have concentrated on his mission. Frustration beat hard within him.

  Alina, he noted, said nothing. She obviously wanted rid of him.

  Come full dark, she would have her wish.

  ***

  Mid-afternoon, Lance pounded across the hall and burst around the solar door. “Father’s riding in!”

  Mama dropped her spindle with an exclamation of joy. “Thank the Lord! Come Alina!” Rising, she crossed herself and hurried towards the door.

  Alina rose more slowly. She was relieved by her father’s safe return, but doubts gnawed at her. It was much too soon. Harry had not yet left. How was she to keep him secret with her father’s men swarming over the place?

  Lance checked that his mother was out of ear-shot. “Lionel’s strutting all over the place like the farmyard rooster, but Father’s ill-tempered.”

  Alina anchored her spindle and faced her brother. “Why? Did he not bring back the cattle?”

  “Some of them, but not all. I don’t know why. I haven’t asked Lionel yet.”

  “Lance, is anyone in the hall?”

  He peered around the door and shook his head.

  “Then I think you should sneak out of the postern gate, and warn Harry. Be very quick. Tell him to go at once. I’ll make sure no one notices your absence.”

  While her brother sped off on his mission, Alina walked out through the hall to greet her father. “I am glad you are safe home, sir.”