She frowned at him. “You are the one who taught me how to ride bareback, wield a dagger, and shoot an arrow true.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “I did. But when I started teaching ye, I thought yer mama would be around te add her woman’s touch. I did nae ken at the time that she’d pass when ye’d only seen eight summers in yer life.”
“You’re lying again,” Marion said. “You continued those lessons long after Mama’s death. You weren’t a bit worried how I’d turn out.”
“I sure was!” he objected, even as a guilty look crossed his face. “But what could I do? Ye insisted on hunting for the widows so they’d have food in the winter, and ye insisted on going out in the dark te help injured knights when I could nae go with ye. I had te teach ye te hunt and defend yerself. Plus, you were a sad, lonely thing, and I could nae verra well overlook ye when ye came te the stables and asked me te teach ye things.”
“Oh, you could have,” she replied. “Father overlooked me all the time, but your heart is too big to treat someone like that.” She patted him on the chest. “I think you taught me the best things in the world, and it seems to me any man would want his woman to be able to defend herself.”
“Shows how much ye ken about men,” Angus muttered with a shake of his head. “Men like te think a woman needs them.”
“I dunnae need a man,” she said in her best Scottish accent.
He threw up his hands. “Ye do. Ye’re just afeared.”
The fear was true enough. Part of her longed for love, to feel as if she belonged to a family. For so long she’d wanted those things from her father, but she had never gotten them, no matter what she did. It was difficult to believe it would be any different in the future. She’d rather not be disappointed.
Angus tilted his head, looking at her uncertainly. “Ye want a wee bairn some day, dunnae ye?”
“Well, yes,” she admitted and peered down at the ground, feeling foolish.
“Then ye need a man,” he crowed.
She drew her gaze up to his. “Not just any man. I want a man who will truly love me.”
He waved a hand dismissively. Marriages of convenience were a part of life, she knew, but she would not marry unless she was in love and her potential husband loved her in return. She would support herself if she needed to.
“The other big problem with a husband for ye,” he continued, purposely avoiding, she suspected, her mention of the word love, “as I see it, is yer tender heart.”
“What’s wrong with a tender heart?” She raised her brow in question.
“’Tis more likely te get broken, aye?” His response was matter-of-fact.
“Nay. ’Tis more likely to have compassion,” she replied with a grin.
“We’re both right,” he announced. “Yer mama had a tender heart like ye. ’Tis why yer father’s black heart hurt her so. I dunnae care te watch the light dim in ye as it did yer mother.”
“I don’t wish for that fate, either,” she replied, trying hard not to think about how sad and distant her mother had often seemed. “Which is why I will only marry for love. And why I need to get out of England.”
“I ken that, lass, truly I do, but ye kinnae go through life alone.”
“I don’t wish to,” she defended. “But if I have to, I have you, so I’ll not be alone.” With a shudder, her heart denied the possibility that she may never find love, but she squared her shoulders.
“’Tis nae the same as a husband,” he said. “I’m old. Ye need a younger man who has the power te defend ye. And if Sir Frosty Pants ever comes after ye, you’re going te need a strong man te go against him.”
Marion snorted to cover the worry that was creeping in.
Angus moved his mouth to speak, but his reply was drowned by the sound of the supper horn blowing. “God’s bones!” Angus muttered when the sound died. “I’ve flapped my jaw too long. Ye must go now. I’ll head te the stables and start the fire as we intended. It’ll draw Andrew and Peter away if they are watching ye too closely.”
Marion looked over her shoulder at the knights, her stomach turning. She had known the plan since the day they had formed it, but now the reality of it scared her into a cold sweat. She turned back to Angus and gripped her dagger hard. “I’m afraid.”
Determination filled his expression, as if his will for her to stay out of harm would make it so. “Ye will stay safe,” he commanded. “Make yer way through the path in the woods that I showed ye, straight te Newcastle. I left ye a bag of coins under the first tree ye come te, the one with the rope tied te it. Neil will be waiting for ye by Pilgrim Gate on Pilgrim Street. The two of ye will depart from there.”
She worried her lip but nodded all the same.
“Neil has become friends with a friar who can get the two of ye out,” Angus went on. “Dunnae talk te anyone, especially any men. Ye should go unnoticed, as ye’ve never been there and won’t likely see anyone ye’ve ever come in contact with here.”
Fear tightened her lungs, but she swallowed. “I didn’t even bid anyone farewell.” Not that she really could have, nor did she think anyone would miss her other than Angus, and she would be seeing him again. Peter and Andrew had been kind to her, but they were her father’s men, and she knew it well. She had been taken to the dungeon by the knights several times for punishment for transgressions that ranged from her tone not pleasing her father to his thinking she gave him a disrespectful look. Other times, they’d carried out the duty of tying her to the post for a thrashing when she’d angered her father. They had begged her forgiveness profusely but done their duties all the same. They would likely be somewhat glad they did not have to contend with such things anymore.
Eustice was both kind and thankful for Marion teaching her brother how to read, but Eustice lost all color any time someone mentioned the maid going with Marion to Froste’s home after Marion was married. She suspected the woman was afraid to go to the home of the infamous “Merciless Knight.” Eustice would likely be relieved when Marion disappeared. Not that Marion blamed her.
A small lump lodged in her throat. Would her father even mourn her loss? It wasn’t likely, and her stomach knotted at the thought.
“You’ll come as soon as you can?” she asked Angus.
“Aye. Dunnae fash yerself.”
She forced a smile. “You are already sounding like you’re back in Scotland. Don’t forget to curb that when speaking with Father.”
“I’ll remember. Now, make haste te the cliff te leave yer cloak, then head straight for Newcastle.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” she said, ashamed at the sudden rise of cowardliness in her chest and at the way her eyes stung with unshed tears.
“Gather yer courage, lass. I’ll be seeing ye soon, and Neil will keep ye safe.”
She sniffed. “I’ll do the same for Neil.”
“I’ve nay doubt ye’ll try,” Angus said, sounding proud and wary at the same time.
“I’m not afraid for myself,” she told him in a shaky voice. “You’re taking a great risk for me. How will I ever make it up to you?”
“Ye already have,” Angus said hastily, glancing around and directing a worried look toward the drawbridge. “Ye want te live with my clan, which means I can go te my dying day treating ye as my daughter. Now, dunnae cry when I walk away. I ken how sorely ye’ll miss me,” he boasted with a wink. “I’ll miss ye just as much.”
With that, he swung up onto his mount. He had just given the signal for his beast to go when Marion realized she didn’t know what Neil looked like.
“Angus!”
He pulled back on the reins and turned toward her. “Aye?”
“I need Neil’s description.”
Angus’s eyes widened. “I’m getting old,” he grumbled. “I dunnae believe I forgot such a detail. He’s got hair redder than mine, and wears it tied back always. Oh, and he’s missing his right ear, thanks te Froste. Took it when Neil came through these parts te see me last year.”
“Wha
t?” She gaped at him. “You never told me that!”
“I did nae because I knew ye would try te go after Neil and patch him up, and that surely would have cost ye another beating if ye were caught.” His gaze bore into her. “Ye’re verra courageous. I reckon I had a hand in that ’cause I knew ye needed te be strong te withstand yer father. But dunnae be mindless. Courageous men and women who are mindless get killed. Ye ken?”
She nodded.
“Tread carefully,” he warned.
“You too.” She said the words to his back, for he was already turned and headed toward the drawbridge.
She made her way slowly to the edge of the steep embankment as tears filled her eyes. She wasn’t upset because she was leaving her father—she’d certainly need to say a prayer of forgiveness for that sin tonight—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d never see Angus again. It was silly; everything would go as they had planned. Before she could fret further, the blast of the fire horn jerked her into motion. There was no time for any thoughts but those of escape.
Two
Iain MacLeod strode out of Odiham Castle and toward the stables without a backward glance. He was in a foul mood. He’d been in England for a fortnight, and it was a fortnight too long. And now he had to make a stop along the way home to marry some Sassenach he’d never met. And for a man who had no desire to ever marry again, the impending wedding did not instill any warmness in his gut.
He stalked past King Edward’s guards, who still gaped every time they saw him, in spite of the fact that he’d been here several days trying to work out the terms of David II, King of Scot’s release. Iain scowled at the sacrifice it required, as marrying once more was indeed a sacrifice for him. But he’d do it for David, as they were longtime friends. The last guard flinched, then his eyes widened as Iain strode past. He wasn’t sure what fascinated the young guards more, his size or the size of his sword. Either way, he was tired of being stared at, weary of bland English food, and annoyed with the politics between David and King Edward.
He continued walking, paying no mind to their stares, until he reached the stable, where he found Rory Mac—his friend, companion on this trip, and council member of his clan—napping in the hay by their horses. Iain shook his head. He’d not had a decent night’s sleep since David’s missive had arrived at Iain’s home, Dunvegan Castle, over a fortnight prior. The letter had implored him to depart at once for England, and since the letter had been unclear and simply stated that David needed Iain’s help to persuade King Edward to negotiate his release, Iain’s mind had not allowed him to rest. There had been many possibilities of what the letter might signify—war, murder, an attempted escape, though unlikely given the impossibility of an escape without attack. Of all the possibilities, however, Iain had never once considered that the way he was to help was by marrying a Sassenach.
Rory Mac snored loudly, and Iain stared down at him with annoyance. The man seemed to be able to sleep anywhere at any time, unlike Iain. Of course, that was not Rory Mac’s fault. Iain nudged his friend in the leg to wake him.
Rory Mac slowly opened his eyes and grimaced, then stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders. “I’d hoped to be home today. Alanna will be angry that we’ve been gone so long.”
Iain nodded his understanding. Rory Mac’s wife, Alanna, had not wanted him to come to England because she’d had a feeling that something terrible would happen. She’d thought that bad fortune would befall her husband, but with the predicament Iain now found himself in, he wondered if the bad fortune she’d feared was not his.
“I wish to be home, as well,” Iain said. “I miss Dunvegan.”
Rory Mac stood up and dusted the stray hay from his braies. “What do ye miss most?”
Iain thought about it. He missed bathing in the cold seawater, even if it did make his bollocks curl painfully tight. He’d not say that, of course. “I miss grievances of the clan,” he said, knowing it would surprise Rory Mac, given how irritated Iain always got when he had to spend hours on end listening to complaints.
Rory Mac cocked his eyebrow as they walked to the horses to ready them to depart. “I dunnae believe ye.”
Iain laughed, understanding why, yet it was an awareness of their clan’s ways that he appreciated even more now, having been here among the English for so long. “It’s true. We air our grievances unlike the English. It’s tiresome but honest. The English dunnae do that, and I dunnae trust King Edward does, either.”
“Nor does David, which is why he summoned ye, I think.”
Iain nodded and made a derisive noise from his throat. “Of course David does nae trust Edward, but David knows he can trust me.” Iain stared at his friend. “Dunnae mistake Edward to be weak. David would have never been able to summon me if it did nae suit Edward’s purposes.”
Rory Mac nodded. “I’ll nae forget. Tell me of the talks today. I suppose an agreement was made for David’s release?”
Iain motioned to the stable door to imply that he’d speak when they were alone. Once they were outside, had mounted their horses, and were a respectable distance from the castle, Iain answered Rory Mac’s question. “A date was set to come back to the table to discuss and set the official terms of David’s release, but it’s still a long way off.”
Rory Mac grimaced. “Why must ye come back? Why could they nae set the terms of David’s release while ye’re here?”
He slowed his destrier and looked at his friend. “King Edward has a provision that must be met before he will consent to talk officially of releasing David.” The muscles in Iain’s neck tensed at the thought of marrying again.
“What is it?” Rory Mac demanded, his eyes narrowing with obvious wariness.
Iain wondered if that’s how he had looked when David had told him what King Edward wanted. It was likely. He took a deep breath. “I have to marry some Englishwoman—the daughter of Baron de Lacy,” he muttered, trying to keep the ire out of his voice, but he knew immediately that he’d failed when he saw the look of pity on Rory Mac’s face.
“Marry a Sassenach?” his friend cried out in surprise. “Ye?”
“Aye,” Iain said on a long, irritated sigh. An image of his late wife, Catriona, filled his mind, making his chest ache. He clamped his emotions down as quickly as they had arisen. “The king of England suspects Baron de Lacy and William Froste of plotting to take the throne.”
Rory Mac pressed his lips into a thin line, his nostrils flaring. “Are ye speaking of the knight who cut off Neil’s ear? The tourney knight?”
Iain’s jaw clenched thinking of Froste. The man was as renowned for his skills in battle and on the tourney field as his cruelty. Iain didn’t normally pay any heed to rumors but Froste had proven himself hard-hearted when he’d cut the ear off one of Iain’s clansman for a crime Froste knew damn well the man had not committed. Iain had a score to settle with Froste, and he welcomed the opportunity.
“Well?” Rory Mac demanded, bringing Iain’s attention back to him.
“Aye, the one and the same,” Iain growled. The men locked gazes and spit toward the ground at once to signify what they thought of a man with no honor. “It seems the king got word that Froste is to marry de Lacy’s daughter, and it’s a match the king intends to stop. Froste wanted land from the king and the title of baron, which King Edward refused, and de Lacy…” Iain shrugged. “The king believes de Lacy wants the throne, and if he and Froste join forces, the two would have enough knights, money, and allies that the king is nervous.” Iain rolled his shoulders, which now throbbed with pressure, as Rory Mac stared intently at him.
Taking a deep breath, Iain continued. “The king is savvy. He is using the fact that he has David imprisoned to weaken de Lacy and Froste’s scheme. He intends to strip de Lacy of the land that is currently in his control, which the king knows Froste wants, and give it to me upon my marriage to de Lacy’s daughter. In return, I had to pledge that if de Lacy and Froste should rise against the king, our clan would fight be
side King Edward.”
“But of course they’ll rise against him!” Rory Mac cried out, his lip curled back.
“Aye,” Iain agreed, holding his friend’s outraged gaze. “The king kens it, too. And he understands that David and I ken it, but King Edward would nae say as much out loud. I’m the perfect solution. He can quell the rebellion without sacrificing any English blood, except of course de Lacy’s and Froste’s.”
“Why did David nae ask Gowan’s son to marry the lass to gain his freedom instead of ye? Gowan is laird of the MacDonald clan and the lass is his niece, so surely they should make the sacrifice and nae ye?”
Iain had asked David that same question. “Because he does nae trust Gowan to become a possible ally with the King of England. David only trusts me.”
Rory Mac shook his head. “I ken he’s your friend, but ye could say nay. He asks too much of ye.”
The thought of marrying again made Iain clench his teeth, but he forced himself to relax his jaw. “He is my friend and my king, and he needs my help so I’ll give it. I’d have done the same if I’d been imprisoned in England without word of when I’d be released. David knows I’d never turn against him and join forces with Edward, but he does nae ken that of Gowan. The laird is cunning, much like the King of England himself.” Iain stared at the dusty road ahead, hoping the conversation was over. While his own reaction to his upcoming alliance was negative, he did not want to instill dislike of the Sassenach in his clan.
But Rory Mac pressed on. “Do ye think Gowan knew of King Edward’s demand?”
When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1) Page 2