by Allie Borne
Bryan had not taken the time to think much about what it would be like for an innocent to have suffered as she had. He rested his forehead against the door. “I died a thousand deaths when they took ye,” he whispered through the door.
Merianne rested her cheek upon the other side, tears running down her chin and dropping at her bare feet. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how much she longed to be wrapped in his arms once more. She could not. He had a plot to overthrow and she was angry.
The first letter she wrote would be to Jared, the gatekeeper. She might not be able to tell him again in person, but she would let him know just what she thought of a man who would spit in a lady’s face. In this instance, the pen would be more painful than the sword. She knew that Jared could likely not read and write. He would have to ask another to tell him the words. There would be a witness to her scolding.
Bryan heard Merianne move away from the door, pacing and whispering to herself as she went. Her words were not for him. They were not even about him. He could tell by the syllables and cadence of her tone. Sighing, he straightened and walked to see the healer.
The poultice she used stank. Bryan’s nose wrinkled with displeasure. “I can hardly walk around smelling like rotted beef, Ruth.”
“Ye should no’ be walking around at all. Thou hast reopened the wound. T’will no’ be a pretty scar, as the others. Go, make yer orders, then lie in bed.”
“Merianne has a wound on her throat. She is wearing a high gown and her hair down, so I could no’ see it. Would ye visit her today, to insure it does no’ become putrid?”
“I will. Ye will have to let me in. I will come in an hour, once ye have had time to return to thy chamber.”
Bryan nodded. “Twas brave of her,” Ruth offered, looking up at her laird expectantly, “...what she did fer ye.”
“I am grateful that she forced Jared to open the gate, Ruth. Everyone is laughing about how she smacked him and set him to rights.”
“Aye, but that is no’ of what I speak. I ‘ave ne’er seen a woman so fearless. The moment ye were hurt, afore Sir Phillip could finish the job, she had her dagger out and was on him. The cut she rent in his calf was long and deep. T’would have likely proved fatal, in time.”
“She was captured because she was protecting me?” Bryan asked. He had not seen the event, focused as he was on his own predicament. It had not been until the crowd grew silent that Bryan had looked up to see his beloved’s pale throat beneath the sword.
“Aye. I am hoping that tis she who is the true mistress here. A Scottish laird should have a warrior bride, not a hot house flower.”
“She is both, Ruth. She is also delicate and cultured, educated and beautiful. She has no’ had the opportunity to show it, because she has been pretending to be so many other things since she arrived,” Bryan argued fiercely.
Ruth nodded and turned to her work. “I will prepare for her a drink that will draw out any bad humors and help her to sleep. This should make ye rest a bit easier.”
“I thank thee, Ruth, but I have forbidden Merianne to accept any food or drink from anyone but myself or Arthur.”
“I see. Well, then, I will treat the cut and leave it at that, then.” Bryan nodded and left to set his plan into action.
~ ~ ~
The small band of travelers mounted their horses and readied to leave on their journey to Sir Daniel’s estate. In typical fashion, the keep’s inhabitants had assembled outside the stable yard to see them off. Arthur had taken Merianne’s letter and placed it close to his heart. Her words to her uncle had been kind, loving and inane.
She wrote that she was happy here. She wrote of the beauty of the sun set upon the grain fields and her love and respect for her new husband. Her uncle would be well pleased. Arthur hoped that he would remain so, when they asked for his help in imprisoning the impostor Miss Warren.
The crowd laughed as Aiden, always the jester, read Merianne’s note to Jared aloud. Jared’s face grew red, but he grinned, enjoying the attention, despite the ribbing.
To Jared, the World’s most Fortunate Gate Keeper,
It has come forcefully to my attention of late that thou art lacking in the most basic of etiquette. Always, tis thy duty to check for thy master’s return and insure his safe entry the moment he arrives. Never, is it acceptable to spit in the face of a woman, particularly that of thy mistress, when she is attempting to warn thee of the Laird’s plight.
As I have already redressed thee for these transgressions, I have decided to forgive you, Jared. I ask only that you are quicker to assess the situation in future and act as a gate keeper should, based upon facts and direct observation, and not based upon rumor and idle gossip.
In the end, you acted wisely, Jared, and for that I am grateful. I thank thee for helping to save my life and that of my husband’s. For that, I can forget a little spittle.
Yours Truly,
Merianne Murray
The crowd cheered and Jared bowed,waving his hand about in an exaggerated fashion. The “true” Miss Warren rolled her eyes and looked resolutely over the crowd. The revelry died down as Bryan approached the group.
“May ye have a safe journey,” he spoke to them all in a voice loud enough for all to hear.
“I will eagerly await word from thy uncle, Miss Warren. Send him my regards.”
‘Miss Warren’ paled and tipped her head in assent.
“Open the gates, Jared. Miss Warren has an urgent mission.”
“Aye, My Laird,” Jared nodded, then ran up to the top to move the pulleys.
At that moment, Sir Robert led his horse from the stables. Everyone turned to see what might be developing. “I have decided that, circumstances being as they are, t’would be best if another man accompanied the travelers,” Sir Robert declared. Back stiff and chin tilted, he looked everywhere but at his Laird.
“Thou art right, Sir Robert,” Thane Murray agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “I agree. Aiden! I will have James and his brothers hunt for us these next few weeks. They ken most of thy traps. They will maintain them. Pray, accompany Arthur and the ladies on the trip. They might appreciate some fresh meat now and again.”
Aiden grinned from ear to ear. Eager to go on a real adventure, for once. “W-will James stay with my mother? I do no’ wish her to be alone while I am gone,” Aiden checked his enthusiasm to ascertain.
“O’ course I will,” James smiled, happy to spend the next few weeks hunting and eating Mrs. Fraser’s fattening feasts.
Thus decided, the five travelers left out, determined to stop by to inform Mrs. Fraser and gather more goods for the trail. Sir Robert stood, horse in hand, uncertain of how to proceed.
“If I am not needed, then, I will be off to my estate,” he offered.
“I would no’ hear of it,” Bryan continued. “As ye ‘ave said, thy sister can handle it. Thou wilt stay here, and keep me company until my bride returns.”
Sir Roberts eyes turned dark, sensing that he was in dire trouble. “Ye sound insincere, Laird. It puts a man ill at ease.”
“No’ insincere, Sir Robert, more...cautious, I would say. A laird does no’ keep his position as head of the clan without thinking through the possibilities. Ye might be surprised how many power-hungry people are out there, Robert. Tis my duty to ensure the safety of the clan against those who would use them for their own gain.”
“I see. I will return my horse, then.”
Sir Robert’s mind raced as he walked back towards the stables. How would he extricate himself from this predicament? He could claim he knew nothing of the plot and was acting on the information he received. Redland would certainly not behead him for being obtuse.
It seemed unfortunate, after getting this far, that he would not be able to gain the title. What if his mistress were successful, though? She was still bent on poisoning Andrew. If she could do so, and he could rid himself of Bryan, he would inherit-Only if he could avoid being blamed for the crime. T’would be ideal
if he could implicate a nobody. The healer! Aye, he could slip some foxglove into her poultice and Bryan would be dead by night fall. Everyone thought she was half witch, as was.
Robert ran to the tiny room Ruth used to keep her potions. The gypsy woman’s dark braid swung back and forth along her broad back as she worked. Humming and cooing to herself, she prepared a salve of herbs from three basic jars. Robert watched closely.
The moment she left with the lotion, he crept in the back entrance and slipped the potent night shade into the container of cream she had used. By the morrow, Lord Redland would fall ill. He would be dead before he received word of the second Miss Warren.
~ ~ ~
Pushing aside a fortune’s worth of silk petticoats and satin gowns, Stella pulled her gold pelisse from the bottom of her trunk. Tightening her shoulders in anticipation, she pulled open the draw string top and rifled through the contents. Her ring was no where to be seen. Winding the strings about her hand tightly, she clenched her jaw. Glancing back suspiciously at the foul little maid she’d been forced to share her tent with, she could swear, she caught a glimpse of a cracked eyelid. The meddling thief had taken her ring. Flouncing the top of her quilt, Stella flopped onto her side.
Rolling to face the other side of the tent, Mary’s chest constricted with suppressed giggles. She was going to enjoy watching Merianne’s impostor wallow and squirm. Listening to ‘Merianne’s’ breathing deepen and regulate, Mary relaxed into sleep.
Stella waited more than an hour after she was certain that Mary slept. Carefully keeping her eyes on the maid, she reopened her trunk. Slipping her hand through the opening, Stella felt around for the false bottom. With a tiny “pop” it gave way.
Stella breathed a sigh. Slipping the tiny fabric pouch from the compartment, Stella slipped the thumb size package into the twisted bun at her neck.
Oh so slowly, she lowered the trunk lid and allowed it to rest upon its base. Now she could sleep. Sir Andrew would be dead before the next night’s fall.
~ ~ ~
Andrew was restless. The trip thus far had left him on edge. Betwixt watching the usurper, “Meri,” and gazing at the sway of his own Mary’s hips, Andrew felt as if he just might explode. Crawling from his tent, Sir Andrew pulled up the front flap of the women’s tent. Both forms lay still beneath their covers.
Sir Andrew’s heart skipped a beat, frightened by the idea of what the usurper might have done to his Mary. Even in the dark, the flickers of fire light illuminated the two forms. Sir Andrew could tell Mary from the other by the length of her form in the bundle of blankets.
Silently, he leaned forward and ran his hand beneath Mary’s blanket. Finding her foot, he grabbed it and shook it slightly. Mary turned to stare down at him and then sat up quickly.
Sir Andrew beckoned for her to come to him. Mary glanced at her charge and then back at Sir Andrew. When he insisted, Mary crawled from the tent.
“What ever is the matter, Sir Andrew?” she breathed.
“Come with me,” he responded. Mary looked once more at the still form before her and nodded. Sir Andrew led Mary to the fire at the center of their tents.
Sitting on a stump, Mary looked up at Andrew expectantly. “I needed to see that ye were well,” Andrew began, cringing at the wretched waver in his voice.
“I have been careful, Sir Andrew. I will not be so foolish as to let my guard down around the likes of her.”
Andrew nodded. “I ken that tis true. Still, I had to see fer myself. How will ye get yer sleep if ye are to lie next to her each night?”
“I do not know. But my lack of sleep has paid off thus far,” Mary smiled proudly up at Sir Andrew.
“How so?” he prompted.
“While I pretended to sleep, The Impostor pulled something from her chest and placed it in her hair.”
“I dared not turn around to see what it might be, but I could tell what she was up to by the sounds and movements she made. She is likely not asleep even now.”
Sir Andrew nodded, concerned. He would search her in the morning. “I think that fer the rest o’ the trip we will have to be more cautious. We will keep her tied and ye will sleep between the tents, with me.
Mary looked up at Sir Andrew in shock. She had no intention of ruining her reputation and in such a public way. When she realized that her reproachful gaze was insufficient sway, she spoke.
“Sir Andrew, I could not possible sleep along side you. Besides, if we tie her, it would become obvious that we do not believe her to be the true Merianne.
“Is it no’ already obvious, Mary? The woman kens we are taking her to Lady Redland’s home. She kens if she does nothing, she will be returned to her native country as a criminal. She will try something to free herself of this situation. Ye will sleep alongside me and that is the end of the conversation.”
Mary was shocked by Sir Andrew’s cursory treatment. And yet, she should not be. Had he not paid a ruffian to throw her in a sack and carry her from Sir Phillip’s castle? Yea, though she was indebted to the man, twas becoming clear that he was willing to act as he deemed fit, irrespective of the wishes of others.
Mary turned her back on Sir Andrew. “I can handle that woman, Sir Andrew. I will not risk my reputation.”
“Can ye no’ see that yer reputation is already ruined? Ye spent several days in the clutches of that foul Sir Phillip. Ye were abducted by Ian Cumyn, then spent a night with me, in my hunting cabin. Ye ‘ave nay reputation worth protecting.”
Mary looked up at Sir Andrew, shock and hurt playing along with the fire’s shadows across her face. Andrew was instantly sorry. He had meant to manipulate her, not to hurt her.
Mary stood to return to her tent and Sir Andrew placed a hand upon her arm. “Forgive me, Mary. I did no’ mean to imply...thou art a woman whose integrity is above reproach. I jest, well, I wanted to remind ye of the fact that ye have already been in less than ideal circumstances. Ye must rest and so must I, if we are to make it to the Sir Daniel’s estate unscathed.”
“I cannot sleep if I am not certain of thy safety. Neither can thee. Let us slumber beneath the stars. I promise to keep you safe.”
Mary looked at her knight, assessing. “I have been sent on this trip to help. I am helping by keeping watch at night.”
“Let us all share in that duty. Ye must sleep some time.” Sir Andrew bent his head towards Mary’s conspiratorially as they spoke. His breath blew softly against her neck and she leaned closer, enjoying the sensation. When Mary looked up at Andrew his face has softened and his eyes reflected their affection. She was mesmerized. Never before had she been so tempted to let a man sway her actions. Mary turned her face to his and smiled invitingly.
Sir Andrew bent and touched his lips to hers, ever so softly. “Will ye please heed my advice, Mary?” he whispered into her ear.
“I will, Sir Andrew. I will lie beneath the stars with you. As you say, I have nothing left to lose.”
“Ah, there is where you are wrong,” Andrew contradicted, shaking his head slightly. “If something were to happen to you, Mary, I fear that I might lose everything.”
Mary looked up at Sir Andrew in surprise. “Thou art confounding me, Sir Andrew. Will thy brother be that angry with thee? I ken that Merianne would never punish thee, if something were to happen to me.”
Sir Andrew smiled at her obtuse observations. “I suppose ye are right, Mary. Just the same, I would feel best if ye were kept safe.”
Mary nodded and smiled up at him once more. “For tonight, I must return to the tent. The “lady” in question remains untied and a threat.”
“And if she has a knife or some other weapon?”
Mary stilled. She had supposed the woman had stored the item for use tomorrow. She had not considered her attacking in the middle of the night. “Shall we search her?”
“By now she has had immeasurable amounts of time to hide the item. I suppose we should. I will wake Arthur.”
~ ~ ~
The bruised sun ros
e slowly. It cast eerie shadows across the fields. Merianne stood looking out her window again. She had made innumerable plans for how she would explore that patch of land when she was freed from her tiny chamber. Now, she thought of Mary and hoped she was well. At least she was safe inside these walls.
Sighing, she turned to fetch her book and screamed. Bryan had entered without her awareness and stood staring at her.
“M-may I be of assistance?” she asked, scathingly.
“Meri,” Bryan reached out his hand to her beseechingly. She turned her face from him, denying him the forgiveness he sought. “It ‘as been torture lying awake, a wall between us. I swear I can hear ye turn in bed. I am no’ sleeping. Perhaps, if you would but tell me that ye understand this ruse, I could rest.”
“I understand that you do not trust me. I understand that this is in good part my fault. I do not understand why you treated me as you did the other day and I am too hurt to forgive you for that.”
“Would you no’ have said similar things, had ye found out that I had betrayed thee?”
“Thou hast betrayed me, Lord Redland.”
“I feel as if I have handled myself fairly.” Bryan could smell the of flowers from her last night’s bath. He longed to bury his face in her still damp hair. He longed to run his hand up her smooth, bare back. Mere feet separated them yet it felt an unattainable distance.
Bryan stopped talking. He looked at the tendrils of her hair, the milky skin against her grey shawl. She was achingly beautiful, strong and tender, everything he wanted in a wife. How quickly he had rejected her when loose tongues wagged.
She had lost her trust for him. He never had fully trusted her. If he were to wait until later, when the obvious were revealed, Bryan knew that his bride would always question his devotion to her. He would act now, he told himself. He would show her that he loved her now and not later.
Walking towards her, Bryan reached out to Merianne once more. Meri stepped backwards, toward the window. “Meri, I have always known thy heart to belong to mine.”