The Scot's Pursuit (Highland Swords Book 3)

by Keira Montclair

  Her father dismounted and picked the lad up, tossing him into the air and making him giggle. “How’s my wee warrior? Did Fia take good care of you?”

  Nab nodded, something she was secretly pleased to see because his innocence always made him tell the truth, contrary to his brother. Roy loved to see others chastised or punished, so he often lied to ensure others were punished. He wasn’t a favorite amongst the help because of that bad habit.

  Her father was oblivious to his lying. Or mayhap he did not care.

  The boys ran ahead and her father yelled back to her, “Branwen, you and Fia will bring in all our things.”

  She nodded, knowing it was her job to carry four saddlebags while Roy carried none. At least Fia was here to help. They’d have the chance to speak as long as they did so in undertones.

  “How did it go?” her friend asked.

  She kept her eyes downcast and answered, “Some parts good, some not.”

  “Are you betrothed to Osbert Ware?” she asked, her gaze locked on Branwen’s as they moved from horse to horse to get everything. “Please tell me ’tis not true.”

  “’Tis true, but I’ll not marry him.”

  “Oh, dear. While he’s not horrible to look at, he has six bairns, and I’ve heard it said he’s too tight to hire any help. Makes the eldest daughter do everything. She’s both maid and cook. And takes care of the bairns. Besides, he’s much too old for you. What good news could possibly overtake that?”

  They strolled slowly toward the keep, adjusting and reshuffling the saddlebags they carried plus two extra sacks of unknown objects brought back by her sire. “The good part is I met someone I like verra much.”

  “Who?” The excitement on Fia’s face warmed her heart. She was a true friend.

  “Alick MacNicol.”

  “From Clan Grant? ’Tis where you were, aye? Truly? Good for you!” In her excitement, she spoke a wee bit too loudly, nearly giving away their chatter, but she recovered quickly.

  “It could have been good. He requested permission to court me.”

  “And?”

  “My sire denied him.”

  “That daft old fool,” she whispered, glancing around to see who could possibly overhear them. They managed to hold the door open and they set their items on a table in the hall. Roy raced over to grab something from his saddlebag, and he couldn’t resist taunting her.

  “Fia, Branwen loves a man at Grant Castle, but she must marry that old man Osbert something.”

  Then he raced away, a smug expression on his face.

  “We must fix something,” Fia said furiously. “Somehow.”

  “I know. My mind is made up. I’m running away before we can marry. I refuse to be married to that old fool,” she whispered in the quietest tone she could manage. Her father hadn’t entered the hall yet, and the lads were by the hearth playing with something.

  “You are?”

  “I don’t know how or when yet, but I promise I will.”

  Her father entered the hall so they ended their conversation, sorting out the items from the sacks. They emptied all but her father’s bags, which he would want to attend to himself.

  Her father approached the table, but he didn’t spare a glance for her. “Find a lovely dress for Branwen to wear,” he said to Fia. “I’ll not buy a new one, but you can clean the best she has. If she hasn’t told you yet, she is betrothed and will marry in less than a fortnight.” He finally looked at Branwen, giving her a sly smile. “I want her to look lovely for her husband.”

  Not while she drew breath. She’d prefer to see her father was the target at the end of her archery lesson.

  ***

  Alick pulled Dyna aside near the stables as the group prepared to leave for MacLintock land. “Look, I know we must get there quickly, but I’d like to head to Thane land on the way, make a formal request to the Earl of Thane for Branwen’s hand before I go with you to MacLintock Castle.”

  He’d thought it through, and he couldn’t accept the idea of doing nothing for days or mayhap longer. Not when Branwen’s sire seemed so fixed on standing between them. He intended to talk to her uncle with her, to show the man he was serious about his niece.

  Dyna arched a brow at him but said nothing.

  “Look, you know that you’ll travel more slowly with two hundred guards. If I go off with Shadow, we’ll likely catch up to you before you even get to MacLintock land. In any case, I should be back in plenty of time to help Alasdair.”

  “You know Grandsire expects you there.”

  “And I’ll be there. Just tell him something in case I’m not there on time. Mayhap Shadow took a fall or something. Please?”

  Dyna put her hands on her hips. “I’ll agree, but only because Branwen’s sire is a bastard. I won’t lie to Grandsire though, and I don’t think you should either.”

  “My thanks. I’ll branch off as soon as we leave, but I promise to make it to MacLintock land before the battle.

  “And you better not be too long behind us or Grandsire will send me after you and that would not make me happy,” she said with a vehemence he absolutely believed.

  “I’ll come. Do not worry.”

  When he thought he could escape without being noticed, he left Grant land and headed to Thane land. He arrived outside the keep in the middle of the day, but he stayed a distance away, tying Shadow up in the woods far from the curtain wall. Then he climbed a tree in an attempt to see inside the wall, thinking it best to go in prepared.

  To his surprise, he saw Branwen walking outside the gates with a basket. She and another lass were chattering quite seriously. He had to hope she trusted the lass. Fia was the name she’d given him of her maid. Mayhap this was her. Branwen had told him she didn’t have many other friends, at her sire’s insistence.

  He waited until they were well hidden in a copse of trees before strolling up with a grin on his face. When Branwen saw him, she dropped her basket and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck before stepping back to introduce him to her maid.

  “Alick, why are you here? If my sire sees you, he’ll send you away immediately.”

  He held her hand in his and said to both lasses, “I know you said you would speak to your uncle about me. I’d like to go with you when you do. Have you done it yet?”

  “Nay, we were sent out to find the makings for new rushes. I was glad to leave. Father doesn’t trust me so he makes sure I’m never alone. Fia’s with me at all times.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He took a group of men out hunting, including Roy.”

  “Then let’s make haste. Take me to your uncle. Is he receiving visitors?”

  Fia said, “Allow me to enter the castle through the back entrance. I can find him. ’Tis better if everyone doesn’t see you. They’ll tell your papa and I think ’twould be better to hide the truth from him for now. Although what your uncle will do, I know not.”

  Alick declared it a solid plan, and the three of them entered the curtain wall through the hidden back door. Alick and Branwen found a secluded area in the bushes, somewhere they could wait without being seen, and Fia went inside. As soon as she left, he cupped Branwen’s face and kissed her passionately, a kiss of separation, one of fear that they may not get the chance again soon. He slanted his mouth over hers and ravaged her mouth until they both pulled back, panting. He leaned his forehead against hers and said, “We must find a way. I’ll not allow them to force you to marry Osbert.”

  He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and took in her scent, leaning into the soft strands of her brown hair, the scent of lavender stealing over him. Everything about her was soft—her skin, her lips, her hands—yet he sensed a strong inner being that would protect her against her sire’s cruel ways.

  Strong-minded was how he would describe her, something often said about his mother. Her strength was different than Dyna’s, which was obvious to everyone who crossed her path, yet it was no less potent. Perhaps this was what had drawn him to he
r that first night.

  Fia appeared quickly, grinning when she saw their dishevelment, and said, “He’s in his solar, said you are welcome to join him.”

  They paused to catch their breath, Branwen smoothing her skirts while Alick played with the stray strands of hair about her face, knowing he’d brought some of them out with his own ardor.

  Fia led them in through the back. They passed a few kitchen maids, but no one seemed to take much notice of them. After ushering them into the Earl of Thane’s solar, Fia left and closed the door behind her. The earl was tall with dark hair, receding somewhat, but Alick guessed he had probably been a handsome man in his youth. He was still an imposing one.

  “Greetings to you, my lord,” Alick began. “I don’t intend to take much of your time. I’ll ask my question quickly and be on my way. I would like permission to court your niece. I think we suit admirably well.” The solar was good-sized but didn’t have the warmth of his uncles’ solars. Nor was there any display of clan pride. The Grant solar boasted a large tapestry of Grant Castle on one wall, made by Grandmama’s loving hands, and a bright red and green plaid and display of weaponry on the other. Weaponry was all that hung on the walls in this solar.

  The earl looked at his niece and asked, “Have you asked your sire, lass?”

  Branwen looked to Alick, who said, “I asked his permission on Grant land. I’m the son of Finlay and Kyla MacNicol. When I—”

  The earl held up his hand to stop him. “Forgive me for interrupting, but you are Kyla’s son? Kyla Grant?”

  “Aye. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Is she doing well? I heard she was sickly at the festival.” He seemed genuinely concerned, and Alick was touched by the man’s regard for his mother.

  “She’s much better.”

  “Good. You may proceed with your explanation.”

  Alick said, “I asked her sire for his permission, but he denied me. He said she’s betrothed to Osbert Ware.”

  “Osbert?” the earl said in surprise. “When did this happen, Branwen?”

  “Papa said Osbert offered for me on Grant land. He accepted, but I don’t wish to marry him. He’s much older than me. I prefer Alick.” She squeezed Alick’s hand so hard it hurt.

  “Are you prepared to offer for her?” the earl asked, his gaze narrowing on Alick.

  “Aye, although I would prefer for us to have time to court. I have to travel to the Lowlands on a mission for my clan. But I’ll be back in less than a moon, and I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know your niece better, my lord.” He turned to look at Branwen. “And I hope ’twill bring us to a wedding, my lord. I’d be verra pleased to take Branwen as my wife.”

  “Did your mother give her approval? Have you met his parents, Branwen?”

  “I have not met his mother, only his sire.”

  “My mother and father both support my choice,” Alick interjected. “They believe a person should have a say in choosing their life partner.”

  The earl lifted a hand to rub his chin. “Aye, I’m aware of this odd belief of the Grants. I don’t necessarily condone it, but I understand it. If I had a daughter, I might consider that reasoning. I can also respect Branwen’s choice of marrying you over Osbert Ware. Age alone would make you a more appropriate choice.”

  He turned his back to them and moved over to the window, pulling the heavy fur back to peer outside, the cool air filling the solar quickly. He didn’t wait long before dropping the fur and turning to give them his full attention.

  “My gut reaction is that my sister would not like to see you married off to Osbert. Everyone knows he is too old, and he wants a wife to care for his six bairns. ’Tis not a life for a lass of less than twenty years. You need to have your own bairns. Allow me to give this some thought and we’ll meet again in an hour.”

  Alick looked to Branwen to see if this suited her, and she nodded quickly, the relief on her face clear.

  “In that time, I’ll find my sister’s husband to hear his version of why this has happened.”

  “My thanks to you, my lord,” Alick said.

  They had hope, which was more than they’d had when they walked in.

  Chapter Eight

  The safe thing would be to bid Alick goodbye in the hopes they would soon be reunited, but Branwen was reluctant to part from him. What if her uncle decided against them? She might never see him again.

  She pointed to a side door hidden in the curtain wall. “We can sneak out this way.” No one was about, so she wasn’t worried about being seen. Most were busy working inside their buildings at their daily tasks. “The lists are on the other side so we can go this way. They’re well hidden.”

  Once they were out the door, Alick’s gaze fell on the outer stables, two medium-sized buildings connected by a smaller building in the middle. The end was almost to the woods. “Your stables are outside your curtain wall?” he asked. “Do you not worry about horse thievery?”

  “We have both. The finest steeds are kept inside, especially those used for breeding. But my uncle has many horses, so they added a building out here for the guards’ mounts.”

  “We tried to talk Grandsire into that, but he didn’t like the thought. They had to expand our curtain wall to hold all the buildings. But Grandsire keeps suggesting that we add new sections to the keep. He prefers for everyone to stay together.”

  “Your castle is the largest I’ve ever seen.”

  They walked by the stables, and the stablemaster came out to greet them with a broad smile. Jep was short for a man, though still taller than Branwen, and had green eyes that sparkled whenever he told stories from the olden days, or so he called them. She doubted he could be too old given his hair was still brown. He used to give her riding lessons, back when she had been allowed such luxuries, and he’d continued to offer his help and encouragement ever since. He and Fia were the two people her father hadn’t been able to take away from her.

  “Was that your fine stallion I found outside the gates?” Jep asked Alick. “It looked to be a Grant plaid. I brought him in to brush him down and gave him a bag of oats.”

  “Aye,” Alick said. “Shadow will gobble up anything you wish to give him. My thanks to you for your hospitality.”

  Branwen made the introductions quickly, keeping an eye out for the returning group of hunters. Jep must have caught her looking because he smiled and said, “Do not worry. They’ll not be back before nightfall, lass. Where did you meet this fine lad?”

  “At the festivities at Clan Grant. Alick actually taught me a few dance steps.” She looked up at him and blushed. She swore he looked even more handsome than he had on Grant land.

  Alick quickly cut in. “Aye, we met and shared some dances. She’s a quick learner, but you probably already know that.”

  Jep glanced at her and said, “Aye, we do. What brings you to Thane Castle?”

  “I was passing through and stopped by for a visit.” Then, turning to Branwen, Alick asked, “Would you like to ride? Mayhap you can show me your favorite place.”

  Jep cleared his throat and said, “Lass, you know there are many eyes here, though the largest ones are gone. Mayhap it would be safer for Alick to leave first? You can sneak out a few moments later to meet him. If you take your usual turn with the horse, you can meet him off the main path.”

  Everything inside of her lit up, both at Alick’s suggestion and Jep’s immediate offer of help. She already knew where she wished to take him—out to the loch. She explained where she’d meet him and then watched him leave, keeping her eyes on him until he disappeared from view.

  Jep helped her mount but held her back before she left. “My thanks for your kindness,” she said, grateful that he hadn’t attempted to persuade her not to go off with Alick.

  “He’s an honorable man, if I were to guess. Are you as taken with him as he is with you, lass?”

  The flush started in her cheeks, but it seemed to spread until it encompassed her entire body. “Aye. He’s honorabl
e and kind, more than anyone I’ve met.” She didn’t comment on her feelings, but she knew she didn’t have to—that flush was her answer.

  He said, “I wish you much happiness, but please be careful.” With that, he patted the flank of her mount and they took off in a brisk canter, Branwen savoring the wind in her face as her horse ran free through the small meadow. She led the way, not slowing until they arrived at the loch.

  It was a warm summer day, the sky cloudy but free of rainclouds. Alick stood waiting for her and waved her over. He helped her dismount, his hands holding her longer than necessary, much to her satisfaction. They stood together at the end of the small loch, looking into the water. “I love it here. ’Tis so peaceful. I’ve often wondered what it would feel like to float across the water on my back, watching the birds overhead.”

  “You don’t know how to swim?”

  She shook her head. “Mama said ’twas not for ladies. The lads play at the edge, but I’ve seen others dive in and swim across. Do you know how to swim?”

  “Aye, I’ve spent half of my summers in our loch. The Ramsays’ loch is even more suited for the young. Logs to sit on, rope swings over the water. Some of my favorite memories from childhood are of Grandsire pretending to be an oak tree in a storm.”

  “An oak tree? But how? What did he do?”

  “He used to hold his arms out and anyone small enough would hang onto him. He would swing us back and forth until everyone fell off and only one person remained. I was champion a couple of times. I didn’t win often because I was too busy giggling and swallowing water to win.”

  “Alick, your clan sounds so wonderful.”

  He held his hand out to her and led her down to the water’s edge. “Here, take your shoes off and tie up your gown. We can wade and catch fish.”