The Warrior's Bride

by Amanda Scott

  “Well, from some cause or other, it has never occurred to me to ask him if we have such a bolt hole at Tùr Meiloach. But does it not seem reasonable that since the one at Arrochar served him well, he would have one at Tùr Meiloach?”

  “He might,” he agreed. “He does keep things to himself. Sakes, he told me I’d have to ask you if I wanted to know how he and your mother managed to get over that pass with a newborn child before Pharlain and his men caught them.”

  She shrugged. “They did not use the pass, because Mam had said it would be too dangerous. Sithee, she had warned him of what Pharlain meant to do.”

  “How did she know Pharlain’s intentions?”

  As if she had not heard him, Murie added, “Nor did all three of them flee together that night.” When he muttered her name again, she said, “Do you want to hear that tale now, or do you want to know why I reacted as I did to my dream?”

  So it was something he would not believe. “Tell me about your dream.”

  “I dreamed that we were escaping through a bolt hole that brought us out near Tùr Meiloach’s south pass.”

  “We? Do you mean you and me?”

  “Nay, all of us were—you and I, Mag, Ian, Lina, my parents, and Dree. Oh, and Lizzie Galbraith was there, and I think Ian was, too. I did not see him, but I seemed to sense his presence.”

  “Who was hunting us?”

  “I don’t know, but someone must have been. We were in a hurry. In troth, I think the dream was of little import, except for making me think about bolt holes. I reacted as I did because I realized as I woke that I had never asked Father if we had one. He must have put the charters somewhere safe, aye? And, what could be safer than a place he trusts to protect us all from invaders? Also, what is more likely, after all these years, than that he’s forgotten just where that hiding place lies?”

  “Highly unlikely, I should think,” Rob said bluntly.

  Murie drew a deep breath and fought to collect her thoughts. The last thing she wanted to do was to make him angry, especially over something she could not change. She had hoped she would not have to tell him the truth—at least, not all of it. He had already made it clear that he would not believe any such a tale.

  She felt as if his sharp gaze were piercing right into her mind. “I wish you would not look at me like that,” she said. “I cannot think when you do.”

  “One need not think to tell the truth, Muriella.”

  “The truth is that you won’t believe me,” she retorted. “You told me that you don’t believe anything you cannot see, taste, feel, or know from your own experience. But you have heard stories about us, about the MacFarlan sisters.”

  “I have, aye.”

  “You have also made it plain that you disbelieve most of them.”

  He gave her a wry look. “I do not believe anyone can predict the future, control animals, or know their thoughts, let alone know other people’s thoughts.”

  “I cannot blame you for that, even though you do so often seem to know mine,” she said softly. “In troth, I do not believe in many such things, either. But odd events have happened at Tùr Meiloach.”

  “Do you believe you can see into the future? Is that why your dream upset you? Because you fear that we will have to flee from Tùr Meiloach?”

  Murie shook her head. “I told you, our flight did not trouble me. It just reminded me of the bolt hole. Sithee, Lina did see odd things last year. She felt as if she were dreaming, even though she saw some of those things whilst she was awake. Once, she saw Mam taking scrolls from a chest and carrying them through a wood.”

  “Sakes, do you think your mother stole Andrew’s charters?”

  “Nay, nay! I ken fine that she did not, for she said so.” She looked right into his eyes. “Mam does not lie, Rob, not ever. The thing is that every time Lina saw her, the scrolls were visible, too. Then someone grabbed Mam.”

  “But if the scrolls that Lina saw were not the charters—”

  “I did not say that.” Murie struggled to explain what she barely understood herself. “We think they most likely did represent the charters but not because Mam took them. Sithee, Dougal had threatened to harm us if Mam did not find the charters and give them to him. But she did not know where they were.”

  “She told you that,” Rob said mildly.

  “Aye, she did, and you need not look so all-knowing, sir. I told you. Mam does not tell lies. Nor do I… not real ones.”

  His lips twitched then, and she was relieved to see it.

  “Truly,” she said. “I may not always tell you the whole truth, or all that I am thinking. But I would not lie to you about anything important or lie on purpose about anything at all now, since it is important to you to hear the truth. I do value my skin, sir, and I believed you when you said you would not tolerate lying.”

  “I want to hear the exact truth and what you are thinking now,” he said.

  “Sakes, I’m trying to explain, but you must not interrupt or cross-question me, because I lose the thread of what I am trying to say.” She paused, hoping he would promise not to interrupt her, but he merely motioned for her to continue.

  Chapter 17

  Well, lass?” Rob said when Murie’s hesitation outlasted his patience.

  Reluctantly, she said, “What I said about our abilities is true. Mam says we do not possess strange powers but only strong instincts that women in our family have honed with each generation and passed on to their daughters.”

  “What does Andrew say?”

  “That we do have reliable instincts but did not inherit them and won’t pass them on. However, he trusts Dree and often looks to her to tell him if one of his men, or a visitor, is speaking the truth. He also trusted Mam when she told him she had ‘seen’ Pharlain seize Arrochar and kill all of us. Although,” she added, “he did not believe her until Pharlain had killed my three brothers. The oldest was just six.”

  Uncertain whether the shock he felt was due to the matter-of-fact way she spoke of Lady Aubrey’s prophecy or hearing her say that Andrew had needed such a tragedy to make him believe her, Rob was silent. Had he not come to know her, he would have thought she was exaggerating those long-ago events. He knew now that, in general, she repeated exactly what she had heard.

  She frowned a little and said, “I ken fine that my words upset you. Even so, you’re giving me that look again. It feels as if two green swords are piercing into my head to reveal what I am thinking.”

  “That’s nowt save your imagination running amok,” he replied, knowing that “upset” was not the word to describe his emotions. Nevertheless… “Do you truly believe that your mother and Lina can see the future?”

  “I believe they can sense when danger lies ahead, whatever form it may take, and that Lina can soothe angry people and persuade them even when they resist her. She insists that I could do that, too, if I tried. I did try to calm Dougal’s ire whilst he held me captive, but I saw no indication that my efforts had any effect. Dree says Lina can do it because she is so placid herself that her serenity calms others. Lina denies that. She says she feels as if she is imposing calmness on an angry person. She is sure that she sometimes succeeded in calming Dougal. But when she tried it on Ian, he reacted badly. So did Mag when Dree showed him what she can do.”

  An image leaped instantly to Rob’s mind of Ian’s volatile temper erupting, as it so often did if someone irked him or crossed his will. Stifling an incipient bubble of laughter, he said, “I expect it sent Ian into a fury.” Then, more thoughtfully, he added, “Mag doesn’t erupt like Ian does, but I would not want him angry with me.”

  “Nor I,” Murie said with feeling. “Mag is more like you that way, I think.”

  “Then you had better not try such a thing with me, lass.”

  “I won’t,” she said, suppressing a shudder. “You are as strong of mind, I think, as you are of body. I doubt that even Lina’s ability would have much effect on you. You do not fly into the boughs the way Ian does. You just�
��”

  She paused and looked up at him from under her lashes.

  “Go on,” he said softly. “What do I do?”

  “In troth, I think you do more with that swordlike look of yours than most men can do by shouting, scolding, or employing more physical ways of retribution.”

  “If you hope to make me believe I can terrify you with a look—”

  “Not terrify, exactly,” she interjected. “You can make me feel much worse than my father does with his shouts and scolding, though.”

  “I expect that is only because you know that his scolding is usually all you need fear from him,” he said.

  She shook her head. “It is not that, Rob. I love Father, but I worry more about what you think of me. Perhaps it is because I know he loves me as fiercely as I love him and that he would never really hurt me. I don’t mean to say that I fear you though, so you needn’t give me that look, either, sir.”

  He was not aware of any look in particular that he had given her. Even so, he realized that her apparently unintended implication that he might “really hurt” her had shocked him more than her words about Andrew and her mother had.

  Snuggling closer, she said, “Do you think I fear you? I promise you I do not. I’ll admit that I try to avoid making you angry, because I don’t like it when you are. Sithee, I have come to care about you and your feelings in a way quite different from the way I care about the other people in my life.”

  “You have, have you?”

  She licked her lips and raised a fingertip to them. Her expression dared him to object, then softened. Her pupils had become enormous, hiding nearly all of the light blue color in them. She put her wet fingertip to his lips, then between them. His tongue touched a short, smooth nail. She had been taking better care of them.

  His cock stirred then. Smiling, he kissed her finger and moved his free hand to her nearest breast. “Ah, lassie,” he murmured, stroking downward, then under the covers to test her heat. “You do bewitch me. Shall we find out how much?” His mouth covered hers, so he heard only a soft, sensuous moan in response.

  Her increasing skills in what followed delighted him.

  Sated, limp, and wholly pleased with her husband, herself, and her marriage, Murie would have liked to linger much longer in bed. However, having decided to get an early start, Rob was impatient to be away.

  “I want to get underway right after we break our fast,” he said.

  “I need only to dress, comb my hair, and eat,” she assured him. “Prithee send for Fiona, though. She does not like to disturb us when she knows you are here.”

  “Do you want her to go with you to Inverness?” he asked, the idea apparently having just occurred to him.

  Never having had a maidservant all to herself, it had not occurred to Murie that she might take Fiona on such a journey. “I would not know what to do with her,” she admitted with dismay. “I shared Tibby with my sisters and Mam, and Mam will take her with us to Inverness, because Annie hates to travel. Moreover, I’ll need to sort the rest of my things into those I’ll take with us and those I want ready for us to bring back here. It will be easier just to tell Tibby what I want and where than to explain everything to Fiona. Annie will help, too.”

  Rob agreed and sent for Fiona and his own man, Hamish. Dressing quickly, they left Hamish to look after Rob’s baggage and Fiona to collect the few items that Murie would take with her from Ardincaple, and descended to the hall.

  Lady Euphemia awaited them at the high table and chatted amiably through the hasty meal. Immediately afterward, Rob bade his mother farewell and stepped off the dais to speak to two lads who were waiting for him there.

  As the three men talked, Lady Euphemia murmured for Murie’s ears alone, “I will miss you both, my dear. I think you are going to make our Robert a good wife. I have not seen him as happy as he is now since he was a boy.”

  Surprised by the compliment, Murie thanked her with a smile. Then, seizing the opportunity to express a thought she had kept to herself, she said, “I doubt that any feardie such as Elizabeth Napier seems to have been would have suited him or you, my lady. Even so, at the time, I expect—”

  “At the time, my dear, I cared only for making strong alliances,” Lady Euphemia said. “That was a necessity for our own security, to which I thought my beloved husband paid too little heed. Faith, I even tried to ally Robert to Duchess Isabella’s youngest daughter. But that…” She paused, glancing again at Rob.

  Murie said quietly, “I know, that would have been a mistake, madam. The duchess may be a Lennox and thus part of what used to be the most powerful family hereabouts, but she is also second Duchess of Albany. The House of Albany now being wholly out of favor with his grace, allying with her would be—”

  “Dreadful, I know,” Lady Euphemia assured her. “Isabella did cozen Jamie into letting her live at home, though, so I thought she would win him over. In troth, I wanted so much to help Robert get on in life, to make him understand how much I care about his future, that I fear I’ve made an enemy of mine own son, instead.”

  “Blethers,” Murie said with a smile. “I ken fine that I should not speak so to you, but it is blethers all the same. You love Rob as much as I do, my lady.”

  Hearing her own words echo in her mind, Murie nearly gasped.

  Euphemia was nodding, though. “You do love him, don’t you,” she said. “I think I must have seen that from the start. I can also see how deeply he cares for you, my dear. In any event, I swear to you, I have wished for some time now that I had never sought the Napier betrothal.”

  “Perhaps I ought not to say this either, madam, but I did hear nearly that same tale long ago. It was not a Border tale then, though.”

  “I think you mentioned that you had heard it before, aye,” Euphemia said. “Different seanachies do often tell the same tales, though.”

  “They do,” Murie agreed, keeping an eye on Rob and the two younger men. “What I should tell you now is that the story I heard before was almost the same, word for word. Sithee, I remember things just as I’ve heard them. I nearly said as much to Rob—about the two tales. But he lacks faith yet in my abilities, likely because my memory is unusual. Also, I’m years younger—”

  “We women always seem ‘years younger’ to our menfolk or just much less wise than they think they are,” Lady Euphemia said dryly.

  “I believe you,” Murie said with a grin. “Even so, I want to gather more facts to support what I am thinking before I mention it to Rob. Tell me this, though, if you will. Did you or Lord MacAulay attend Elizabeth Napier’s burial?”

  “We were not invited to do so. Sithee, due to the scandal—she was a suicide, after all—they buried the poor lassie straightaway. They said nowt to us until we were preparing to visit them again. Then, of course, Lady Napier sent word to us.”

  “Were there other witnesses to Elizabeth’s death?”

  “She wrote only of their steward’s shock when he saw the poor thing lying on the cobbles under the open tower window. Sakes, do you think someone killed her? It would have to have been Napier himself, since he says he saw her fling herself out.”

  “I did not mean to imply any such thing,” Murie said. “I simply distrust an event so similar to one that I know took place in the northern Highlands. I am hopeful of learning more now that Rob is taking me with him to Inverness. At least one person who will be with her grace, the Queen, will likely know that other tale I heard. Also, I’ve heard that the King will have a few Border lords with him.”

  “Faith, I hope you don’t mean to stir gossip, Muriella.”

  “I promise I won’t,” Murie said. “Sithee, many people—kinsmen and folks from other clans—know that I collect stories. I may learn more about the Napier tale from a Douglas or a Scott. If I don’t learn anything new, that will be that, but Rob does feel guilty about what happened. I’d like to lay his guilt to rest if I can.”

  “His guilt is my fault,” Euphemia said. “Had I not—”


  “Prithee, madam, forgive me,” Murie interjected with relief when Rob gestured impatiently. “Rob is beckoning. Let me just see what I can learn.”

  “I’m glad you came to us, Muriella,” Euphemia said, opening her arms.

  Murie went right into them and gave her good-mother a warm hug.

  Rob stared at the two women, stunned.

  Murie turned then and hurried off the dais to his side. “Prithee, sir, do not be vexed with my dallying,” she said with a smile. “Since you were talking with those two men, I decided to talk a bit longer with your mam.”

  “I saw that, lass. You seem to have bewitched her, too,” he added, putting an arm around her to urge her toward the stairway. “I was talking to Alf and Eamon, the running gillies I’ll send to warn Jamie of what we learned from Sean Crombie. It seemed more sensible to give the lads clear instructions here than to do it on the boat or after we reach Tùr Meiloach. I want them to understand the importance of warning his grace before he nears Inverness Castle.”

  “How ever will they find him?” she asked as they neared the stair landing.

  “They don’t need to find him, because I’m sending them to Jamie’s cousin Alex Stewart, the Earl of Mar, at Lochindorb Castle,” he said. “If my lads run to Rothiemurchus—that’s Mackintosh territory, friendly to Jamie—they can get directions and hospitality from the Mackintosh. Lochindorb lies less than a day north from there, and Alex has been Lord of the North longer than he’s been an earl, so he’ll know where Jamie is from the minute the royal party enters his domain and will send men to warn him. But come,” he said, moving past her to go down the stairs ahead of her as courtesy required. “MacKell will have our galley ready by now, and I don’t want to keep them waiting. I was surprised, though, to see how warmly my mother bade you farewell,” he added, glancing back at her.

  Murie’s eyes danced. “I told you, I like her,” she said. “She thinks I will make you a fine wife, although she did not think so when first we met.”