by Lynsay Sands
Merry's eyes widened at the anger in the man's face and voice. 'Twas obvious he was upset and not afraid to show it. Alex, however, merely nodded. "Aye, you are right. It would not have happened. But how do you know it was set?"
Gerhard blew out an exasperated breath. "Well, I presume you were not foolish enough to leave a candle burning while you slept?"
"Nay," Alex agreed, even as Merry shook her head. She distinctly recalled Alex blowing out the candle before joining her in the pallet. It had definitely been dark inside the tent when she'd drifted off to sleep.
"Then someone obviously must have set it," the soldier snapped, and was so upset he began to pace in front of them. "It was a stupid effort to kill you, though it nearly worked. Fortunately, the fire upset the horses, and their nervous movement and whinnying woke Allan and he got up to soothe them, saw the tent was afire, and woke me."
"And you came in after me," Alex said solemnly. "Thank you, old friend."
Gerhard waved his words away with disgust. "Of course, I came in after you. 'Tis my job to keep you alive. But I would not have needed to, had you just listened to me and allowed me to put guards on you. Someone set that fire deliberately, trying to kill you. There is no way this could be an accident that we are misconstruing."
His eyes slid to Merry as he said that and she sat a little straighter in Alex's lap and said quickly, "I did not set it."
"Merry, love," Alex said softly, drawing her wary gaze to him. Lifting one sooty hand, he brushed the hair back from her face and said solemnly, "We know it was not you. Do we not, Gerhard?" he added in hard tones.
Merry glanced to the man, sighing inwardly when he hesitated. She was sure he was about to accuse her of starting the fire in another attempt to point the guilty finger elsewhere, but much to her surprise, he nodded solemnly.
"Aye. We know it is not you," he said dutifully, and then added, "You would hardly set the tent on fire and then go to sleep inside and remain there so long." He shook his head. "I do not know how you survived it. The heat and smoke were enough that I was sure you were dead when I realized you were still in there."
"My wife sleeps buried under the furs," Alex said dryly. "She burrows even her head under them. 'Tis probably the only thing that saved her."
"Ah." Gerhard nodded and then peered at Merry and said seriously, "'Tis good you do. 'Tis probably the only thing that saved you this night. I thought you were in the wagon with Una, and the smoke was so thick in the air I never would have seen you there. We are just lucky that the furs were not set afire by a spark ere Alex realized you were still inside and got you out. Surely the angels were looking after you both tonight."
Merry nodded solemnly as her gaze slid back to the fiery tent as it collapsed. The angels had indeed been working hard tonight.
"My lady?"
Merry glanced back to Gerhard and she noted that his expression had gone even more solemn.
"Allow me to offer my apologies for my earlier accusations," he said with dignity. "My only excuse is that--"
"Lookin' out fer Alex has been yer job fer many years now," Merry interrupted, equally solemn despite the relief pouring through her. She had not enjoyed knowing she was under suspicion for hurting Alex and was glad to have that pall removed. She was so relieved she didn't need the apology, so said, "And everything did start after me arrival. I understand why ye suspected me. 'Tis all right."
"Thank you," he murmured, and then seemed to become aware of the men all standing around them, watching and listening to everything, and said, "Well? 'Tis morn now. Why are you not breaking camp?"
The men began to move away at once, and Gerhard turned to offer them both a slight bow before following suit.
Merry watched him go, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. In truth, she thought it was nearly worth having almost been roasted alive to get that suspicion off her. She suspected she might feel differently had she not slept through the ordeal. However, the very fact that she had made her shake her head with bewilderment. Surely the heat or the smoke should have made its way through to her sleeping mind and roused her? Apparently not.
"Merry?"
She turned to Alex, surprised to see that he looked even more solemn than Gerhard had.
He caught her face in his hands and said, "I want you to know that I have never believed that you were involved in what has been happening." When Merry's eyes narrowed with doubt and she opened her mouth to say she was not sure that was true, he held up a hand and said, "If ever I did wonder, it was only a passing thought and quickly forced away by your own behavior."
"Mine?" she asked, wanting to believe him.
"Aye," he assured her, and then laughed slightly and said, "Merry, there is a reason you gained the name the Stewart Shrew."
Merry felt herself flush, but before she could get too embarrassed or upset, he added, "And you did not get it from sneaking around drugging people or knocking them out when their backs are turned. Anyone could tell that from watching you deal with your father and brothers."
"They could?" she asked dubiously.
"Do you recall the day I found you training the men in the bailey?"
"Aye," she said slowly, unsure where this was heading.
"Well, Merry, when you realized your father and brothers were drinking in the great hall, you straightened your shoulders and marched up there ready to do battle. You did not handle it in some underhanded sneaky manner."
Merry grimaced but said, "As much as I hate to disappoint ye and risk ye thinkin' I'm behind all this, I feel I should tell ye that I did actually slam me shield ower Brodie's head from behind when I got there."
"That was just to get his attention," Alex said, waving her words away.
"Ye saw it?" she asked with dismay.
"Aye. I followed and saw and heard everything, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You hit him over the head, got his attention, gave him hell, and then knocked him out good and proper from in front."
Merry was busy cringing over the knowledge that he'd witnessed one of her shrewish moments, when he caught her face and turned her so that she was focused on him as he continued, "Merry, you handle everything in a forthright manner. You did not hide the whiskey from your father and brothers, but locked it away in the pantry and kept the key on your person, and all knew you had it." He shook his head. "Nay. Did you want me dead, you would not choose strange potions and sneak attacks from behind to do it. You would choose a much more forthright manner."
"Thank ye, husband," Merry said quietly, touched that he thought so highly of her. She then frowned and added, "I think."
Alex chuckled at the disgruntlement now claiming her face and then hugged her close. "I am almost glad for this latest attack. It has allowed us to clear up the matter of your being under suspicion and--"
Merry tilted her head back to peer at him curiously when his words faltered. "And what?"
He grimaced, but then admitted, "It also gave me the chance to rescue you for a change."
"I..." She paused, her brow furrowed with confusion.
Alex smiled, but explained, "It was beginning to hurt my pride that my sweet little bride had saved my life twice when I am supposed to be the big strong, warrior husband."
"Oh!" Her eyes widened in realization and then she patted his shoulder soothingly. "Ye are a big strong, warrior husband, husband. I have never doubted that, and I kenned 'twas only a matter of time ere ye'd ha'e to be savin' me back."
Alex began to laugh so hard he fell back on the grass with her, and Merry gave a little squeal and clutched at his shoulders as they went. She then found her head pressed to his chest as he hugged her tightly and breathed, "Ah Merry, you are priceless."
Merry wasn't sure what he found so amusing. She'd been in earnest, but let the matter go and admitted, "I'm glad o' it, too, if it means Gerhard will stop suspecting me. But yer words have made me wonder."
"About what?" Alex asked, his hand moving soothingly over her back.
"Well, ye're right. It hadna occurred to me, but this whole ordeal is full of sneakin' about and such, and I think Gerhard too forthright to do that, too."
"Aye," Alex agreed quietly. "He is not the sneaky sort, either. Sometimes I think 'twould be better if he did learn a bit of sneakiness."
When she tilted her head to peer at him curiously, he explained, "The man has a sharp mind and is good with a sword, but diplomacy is not exactly his long suit, as you may have noticed. Were he just a touch less forthright, he could avoid insulting unnecessarily."
"Hmm," Merry murmured, but said, "Ye ken the people of d'Aumesbery better than I. Who do ye think is sneaky enough to do this?"
Alex was silent for a moment and then sat up, taking her with him. He took a moment to help when Merry then quickly set to arranging the furs and linens around herself to be sure she was decently covered, and then admitted, "You are not going to like this."
Merry grimaced. "Ye're going to say Edda."
He nodded solemnly. "I know you like her and she has been good to you, but she has proven herself sneaky in the past. When my father lived and was home, she acted much as she does with you and me now. However, when he left on the occasional journey, her demeanor changed entirely. She was cold and even cruel to those left behind, including myself and Evelinde. And then he would ride through the gate and she was suddenly sweet and dutiful again. 'Twas like there were two of her, a good Edda and an evil Edda."
Merry considered this, upset at the possibility that Edda was not what she presented herself to be, and then admitted, "Evelinde made me promise to approach ye about sending Edda away to visit her sister for a while once we return."
"Sister?" Alex echoed with surprise, and then nodded. "Oh, aye. I had forgotten she had one."
"I didna even ken she had one until Evelinde told me," Merry admitted. "I found that surprisin' considerin' how often we've sat by the fire chattin' ower our mending on a night."
"'Tis odd she would not have mentioned it," Alex agreed, and then asked, "Would you mind did we send her away for a visit when we return?"
"Nay," Merry said quietly. "I shall miss her, but it need only be until we sort things out and can prove she's no' behind all of this nonsense."
"Aye," Alex agreed, hugging her.
"My lady!"
Merry pulled a little away from Alex to glance around as Una came stumbling up. The maid was a complete mess, her hair still sleep-rumpled and her gown laced up crookedly. It was obvious she'd been in a rush to dress.
"Godfrey woke me with the news of the fire. Thank God, ye're all right," the woman gasped dropping to her knees beside them. "Ye didna get burned at all, did ye? Godfrey didna think ye had, but--"
"I'm fine," Merry assured her quickly and then glanced to her husband with surprise when his chest began to rumble with fresh laughter.
"It does seem amazing to me that the women from your part of Scotland can sleep through such things. Surely the ruckus the men were making with their shouts and so on should have woken you, Una."
"Oh." The maid flushed, but waved that away. "I am a deep sleeper. Most o' the people at Stewart are. It comes from years o' Eachann and the boys stayin' up all night drinkin' and carousin' and makin' a hell o' a racket. We are used to sleepin' with noise."
"Ah, that explains a lot," Alex said with sudden understanding and eased Merry off his lap so that he could get to his feet. "I suppose we, too, should get moving. I have not done so ere this because I am not sure what we are going to do for clothing now that everything burned up in the fire, but the men are nearly finished breaking camp and I'd best look into the matter."
Merry opened her mouth to point out that her gowns were safe and sound in the wagon where she'd taken them last night when she'd thought she'd be sleeping there, but swallowed the words and nearly her tongue along with them as she glanced up and found herself staring at her husband's naked chicken neck. Until then, she hadn't realized that he was naked as the day he was born. She should have, since that was how he'd climbed into bed last night, but...
"Dear Lord, Godfrey's no' the only one with a claymore," Una muttered, bringing Merry abruptly to her feet to wrap the furs that had been covering her around her husband's waist.
"Merry, stop that and cover yourself," Alex snapped, trying to wrap the furs back around her even as she wrapped them around him. "You are not decent."
"I may no' be decent, but at least I'm in me chemise. Ye, on the other hand, are bare-arsed, husband," Merry snapped back in case he'd missed that fact.
"My men will not care about me being naked," he argued, pushing the furs back toward her.
"And I doona mind, either," Una assured her, ogling Alex.
Merry scowled at her. "Well, I do. 'Sides, they willna care about me in me chemise."
"They may not, but I do," Alex growled back, and then gave up trying to cover her and merely scooped her up in the furs and headed for the wagon, saying firmly, "You shall have to borrow a gown from Una for the rest of the journey."
Merry didn't tell him then that she had gowns. She was too busy scowling over his shoulder at Una. The maid had stood to follow, and her eyes were fixed firmly on Alex's behind as she did. Judging by the expression on her face, she was enjoying the view, too. Merry thought it terribly rude and was not enjoying her enjoyment.
chapter Fifteen
It was a hard ride for the next couple of days. With no tent to sleep in at night, they were forced to sleep around the fire with the rest of the men, and so Alex saw no reason to stop each day until well into the night.
It troubled him that this latest attempt on his life had nearly seen his wife killed, and that was another reason he rode them so hard to reach home. He knew he was driving them all to exhaustion and risked the wagon losing a wheel, but hoped that the exhaustion would be enough to keep whoever kept attacking him from doing so again and possibly succeeding this time, if not in killing him, then in killing his wife. He would not lose Merry now when things were starting to look up between them.
By the last day, the pace he'd set had everyone grumpy, and so when the sun set when they were only four or five hours from d'Aumesbery, rather than call a halt and sleep one more night in the open before finishing the journey the next morning, Alex kept them going.
It was a relief to every one of the exhausted group when the torches on the towers of d'Aumesbery were spotted through the thinning woods. Alex glanced down to Merry to point out that they were nearly there, but she was sound asleep in his lap. Unlike the journey out, she had ridden on her own for most of the way back. However, when he'd caught her starting to nod off in the saddle an hour ago, he'd pulled her before him on his mount and ordered her to sleep. He suspected it was a sign of how exhausted she was that she had not argued or even troubled herself about her mare, but had merely curled up and dropped off to sleep at once.
"She is dead to the world, poor thing," Gerhard said quietly from the side, and Alex glanced to where the man rode with Merry's horse trailing his own. The first had taken the mare's reins and attached them to his pommel to lead the beast when Alex had scooped Merry from her back.
"Aye," Alex agreed, and then added, "But dead to the world is better than just plain dead."
Gerhard nodded. "It has been hard the last few days, but 'tis better to reach d'Aumesbery quickly and avoid further possible problems on the trail."
"That was my thought," Alex agreed.
"I suspected as much," Gerhard admitted, and then added wryly, "But you may wish to explain that to your wife when she awakes. I think she and her maid thought you had lost your mind, riding us as you have."
Alex smiled wryly at the suggestion and nodded. They broke through the trees then and started up the sloping path to the castle gates.
The greeting here was much different from the one they'd received at Stewart. The men on the wall did not break out in smiles or wave and call out greetings as they let down the gate, and no one rushed across the bailey to crowd an
d meet them.
Alex told himself it was because it was the middle of the night, but knew even had they arrived during the day, they would not have been welcomed as they had been at Merry's childhood home. He had been away for years and only recently returned to a troubled keep, only to turn around and leave again, and Merry herself was altogether new here. But he hoped that someday their people would be as pleased to see them return from a journey as the people of Stewart had been to see Merry.
It was a goal for him to work toward, Alex decided. He would gain the trust and love of his people so that his return was always welcomed.
Alex drew his mount to a halt at the keep stairs and eased out of the saddle still clutching her close, and Merry did no more than stir and mutter unhappily before dropping off back to sleep. Shaking his head at his wife's ability to sleep through anything, he didn't bother to give any orders or instructions to Gerhard and the men, but left them to it. Secure in the knowledge that they would do whatever was necessary and tend to the wagon and horses before seeking their own beds, he carried Merry inside and moved quietly through the sleeping bodies in the great hall to reach the stairs. He met no one as he made his way up to their room. Once there, he settled Merry on the bed and then simply collapsed beside her, too exhausted even to think about undressing either of them. They would just have to sleep in their clothes this night, he thought as sleep washed over him.
Merry woke to find herself alone in the room she shared with Alex at d'Aumesbery. Her first reaction was relief that she was not lying stiff and sore on the cold hard ground but instead in her warm bed. Her second reaction was to wonder when they had arrived, where her husband was, and if he'd even joined her in the bed. The last thought brought a wave of depression over her, for while Merry had slept at Alex's side every night since leaving Donnachaidh, that was all they had done. He had not touched her in any way that could be construed as sexual, or even kissed her since the night he'd been so aggressive and they'd realized he was being drugged.