Once Forbidden

by TERRI BRISBIN

  Clearing his throat, he sat up, ready to apologize for his wayward glance. His body had reacted quickly and he dared not stand up for fear of exposing himself to her. Settling the folds of the plaid more securely over certain places, he nodded a greeting to her.

  "I hope we did not wake you, Robert. Craig is at his most pleasant in the morn." Her voice was light, but no smile filled her face now.

  "Och, nay. I rarely sleep past dawn. 'Twas the light of day that woke me." He looked around for his saddlebags and a shirt, but could not find them. And he did not want to rise in the condition he found himself in now.

  "Here, Rob," she said as she stood up in front of him. Limping slightly, she took a few steps to the small table and handed him his bag. "You still have two clean shirts in there."

  "Are ye certain ye should be walking yet, Anice? Ye twisted that ankle just a day ago."

  "It is sore. But I can walk if I take it slowly. And the binding you did yesterday surely made it feel better."

  She lifted her skirts slightly to show him the ankle was still wrapped. The last thing he needed right now was a peek of her shapely legs. His body was already afire and that just made him even hotter. He shifted his position, trying to figure out how he could stand without horrifying her with his physical reaction.

  "I must..." she stuttered, pointing to the woods. "Can you watch Craig for just a few minutes or should I take him?"

  "Dinna be foolish, Anice. Ye canna carry him and attend to yer needs. Leave him with me." She nodded and he continued, "There is a stream some yards right through that gap in the trees. Ye may want to wash up there, but have a care. It may be swollen from the storm."

  She nodded wordlessly at him, picked up a sack that, judging from the smell, held some of the bairn's soiled clothing, and took it with her. Once she was out of sight, he let go of his covers and stood. He wanted to blame his erection on the morning. He woke with one most mornings even if sated when he went to sleep. But, in truth, he knew it was her. Holding her on his lap yesterday, and the feel of her rocking against him, had made him hard for most of the ride. Seeing that glimpse of shoulder and breast and leg was enough to make him more uncomfortable.

  Robert was dressed in a few minutes and then went over to where Craig lay, playing now with his toes and jamming his fist in his mouth. It was interesting how babes could look so carefree one second and then so needful the next. He took advantage of the quiet contentedness to organize his bags and Anice's and come up with a list of supplies and food they would need if they remained at the croft. He was still not certain about what to do, but returning her to Dunnedin or even to Dunbarton immediately was not part of it.

  When he saw her hobbling back through the trees, he went out to help her. Taking the wet clothes from her, he offered her his arm for support. She hesitated for a second and then held on to him as she made her way back to the croft. She reached for the clothing but he stopped her.

  "I will see to these, Anice. Ye must rest." She'd pulled her hair back and bundled it tightly at her neck. The severity of the look simply emphasized her injury.

  "Robert, I am fine."

  "The dizziness is gone?" He scrutinized her closely.

  "Aye. Other than an ache in my head when I tilt it, I am well."

  As he spread the babe's clothing out on some branches, Anice went inside the cottage. He realized he'd never even spoken of how she'd been injured.

  "'Tis sorry I am about yer head. I did no' ken that ye were the one on the ground or I would've approached ye differently."

  Anice came out with Craig on her hip. "And I was asleep when you came near. I knew you were close by but the noise frightened me awake. I did not know it was you."

  "Why did ye no' simply catch up with me on the road, Anice? Dear God, when I think of ye and the bairn spending a night alone wi'out cover or protection, I..." His words drifted off.

  She patted the babe on the back and shrugged. "As I said, I panicked, Robert. I did not think at all. I did not want you to find me until I was far enough not to be returned to Dunnedin."

  He could see her eyes beginning to fill with tears and her efforts not to let it show. He hung the last gown over a branch and turned to her.

  "I must go to Dunbarton today. I want ye to stay here...." She began shaking her head even before he finished. "Ye came to me for help, Anice. Let me try to find a way for ye in this."

  She grabbed his arm with her free hand. "Robert, I cannot go back."

  "Ye may have no choice in this."

  She dropped her hand and turned away from him, rocking the babe.

  "Ye must trust me for a day, Anice. I will see what messages Struan haes sent out to his allies and see his intent from those."

  "But the MacKillop is one of his friends."

  "Aye, but the MacKillop will listen to me first. I need yer word that ye will be here when I return."

  Anice turned to face him and her face wore that defeated expression once more. He hated it. He hated what he might have to do. She met his gaze and nodded.

  "Let's see to a meal and then I'll be on my way. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can return here to ye and the babe."

  The next hour passed quickly as they each carried out tasks that would organize them for the day: they refilled their waterskins, prepared a meal, saw to their animals, and then ate in silence. Soon, he put on his sword and mounted his stallion and headed for Dunbarton. He could not look back.

  * ~ * ~ *

  She watched as he rode away. She kept her eyes upon him until she could no longer see him moving along the forest path. Her son cooed and gurgled in that language of babes who had no cares in the world. Perched on her shoulder, he raised his head and looked around as though he knew something or someone was missing from their world.

  Would he miss her when she was gone? Although she'd like to convince herself that he knew her as his mother, the reasoning part of her understood that he would seek nourishment from whoever provided it. And when he was old enough, he would call someone else mother.

  Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. Craig was very sensitive to her mood and, since he'd been so accommodating so far on the wild adventure, she did not want him to become upset. She just did not know what to do.

  Mayhap this was God's way of punishing her for not confessing her sin. She may not have taken her own life, but a part of her would die if they took the babe from her. Or was this punishment for some other shortcoming—her inordinate pride years ago when she first came to Dunnedin? Her refusal to submit to her husband's demands? She would not presume to know the mind of the Almighty. What could she do?

  Anice thought of her choices. She could run away again, from here, without Robert. She could return and try to come to her own agreement with her father and Struan about keeping the babe with her when she married. She could simply return and submit to the wisdom of those in charge of her life. Or she could finish what she started on that night long ago when faced with the same kinds of choices she had now.

  Craig was dozing off to sleep, so she gently laid him down on the blanketed pallet and tucked the covers around him to keep him secure. His newest trick was to roll from his belly when waking and she wanted to make certain he was safe. She walked outside and into the scattered sunlight within the canopy of trees.

  She knew that she had only until the time when Robert returned from seeing the MacKillop to make her decision. Once back, he would prevent her from her one choice and if her suspicions were correct, he would be forced by honor and obedience to the clan to take her back, whether she wanted to go or not. So, she thought as she paced in front of the small hunting croft, she had until sundown.

  Could she live now that her dreams of raising Craig within the MacKendimen clan were shattered? Could she live without her son? How would he fare if she were not alive to keep watch over him, even if from afar? And would they tell him the truth about his mother's death?

  Too many questions filled her. Too many possibilities,
and not enough freedom to choose the one she wanted, faced her.

  Sundown was not far enough off to make these weighty decisions.

  * ~ * ~ *

  He dismounted in one movement and waited as a stable boy came to take Dubh from him. Robert greeted many as he strode into the keep and up the familiar stairs that would take him to the main floor. It felt good to return here. The sights and sounds, even the smells welcomed him back to Dunbarton. After asking for the laird, Robert was directed to the solar and walked there briskly. This needed to be handled correctly in order to keep events under control and Anice safe. He knocked and entered when one of Lady Margaret's serving women opened it for him.

  "Lady Margaret, how do ye fare?" he asked as he bowed before her.

  "Ah, Robert lad, ye are a sight to behold after a long absence. It does me good to see ye returned to Dunbarton. Tell me," the laird's wife asked, "did the MacKendimen treat ye well?"

  "No' as well as I have been treated by ye, my lady." He winked at her, which he knew would make her laugh. Lady Margaret had always held a soft spot in her heart for him and he knew that she had interceded on his behalf many times during his stay there.

  "Then 'twould serve them right for ye to stay here with us, lad."

  "Margaret, leave Robert be. He's been on the road for two days and is probably thirsty and hungry. Welcome back." Duncan MacKillop offered his hand to Robert and grasped his in a firm hold. "'Tis good to see ye back."

  "Laird," was all Robert could say. He was somewhat overcome by the warmth of the welcome and knew once more that his place here was secure.

  "Margaret? If ye are done here, may I speak with Robert in private?"

  Lady Margaret gave her husband a knowing look and motioned to her entourage to gather up their things and follow her. In a few minutes and after a flurry of skirts and women, Robert was alone with the MacKillop.

  "Some surprising news haes come from Dunnedin, Robert. Did ye ken that the Lady Anice and her child are missing?"

  "Missing? From Dunnedin?" Robert repeated the words, not daring to look Duncan in the eye.

  "Aye. Struan haes sent out searchers and messengers, but no trace of her could be found. He thought that she might have accompanied ye here."

  Robert shifted on his feet and walked to a small serving table under the window. Lifting up a pitcher, he offered it to the laird and then poured each of them a cup of the ale. He did not want to lie to Duncan. The man had been more than fair with him and offered him more than his own father had in life. To lie to him would be to break the bond between them and Robert could not do that.

  "Laird... Duncan... give me a day to bring her to ye. That is all I ask."

  He handed Duncan one of the cups and finally gathered enough courage to look him in the face. Duncan wore a wistful expression and not the anger he expected to see. Neither did he see disappointment or disapproval there, for which he was deeply grateful.

  "Why a day, Rob?"

  "She was injured and needs time to regain her strength before facing the repercussions of her act."

  "Did ye take her from Dunnedin? I got the distinct impression that Struan thought so from the tone of his message." Duncan swallowed deeply from his cup, but his gaze never left Robert.

  "She found me on the road. I had nothing to do with her leaving."

  "Well then, fine. I sent the messenger back to Struan and told him I would send word if we found the missing lady and babe. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find the lass."

  "Thank ye, Duncan." Robert drank the last of his ale and put the cup back on the table.

  "Do ye have need of anything to aid the lady? Does she need a healer perchance? Mayhap Ada can give her injuries the care they need...?"

  Duncan's voice took on a strange tone. Robert felt as though he was telling him to seek out Ada for some reason. Not for her healing abilities. For something else.

  "I will ask Ada for help, Duncan. Thank ye for yer indulgence in this."

  Duncan slapped him on the back and walked towards the door with him. Stopping a few steps away and letting Robert go on without him, Duncan stayed in the solar. Robert was almost out the door when Duncan's words reached him.

  "For a moment there when ye came in, I felt at least a score and five years younger and thought my good friend Struan was here to call on me."

  Robert turned and looked at the MacKillop.

  "The resemblance is there for anyone to see, Robert. If they look closely enough."

  Duncan smiled and chills passed over Robert's skin. Gooseflesh was raised everywhere as some of the implications of Duncan's words sank into his mind. He knew the truth? Before he could ask any of the dozens of questions that raced within his heart and head, Duncan nodded and closed the door, effectively stopping any discussion of his revelation.

  Robert left the solar and headed for the kitchens; someone there would know Ada's whereabouts. Once in the cooking area, though, his stomach began rumbling loudly at the appealing smells and aromas surrounding him. Several of the serving women offered him food and he sat down and accepted the well-cooked meat and hot bread from them. Two days of oatcakes and porridge had left him deeply hungry. He finished quickly and asked for some food to be packed for his trip back to Anice and made arrangements to pick it up as soon as he talked with Ada.

  Walking through the yard, he approached the small stone chapel where he was told he would find the old woman. Stepping into the cool darkness within, he saw her sitting on a bench near the altar. Other than the two of them, the chapel was empty.

  "Are ye waiting for a priest?" he asked quietly as he walked up the center aisle.

  "Nay, boy, I was waiting for ye. 'Tis good to see ye returned." She stood and gathered him within her embrace. Since she was so much shorter than he, her head lay on his chest.

  "Ada, I have missed yer counsel these last months in Dunnedin. How do ye fare?"

  "I am well, Rob. How is the Lady Anice?"

  He could feel the blood drain from his face at her question. He moved back away from her and sunk onto a stone bench. "How did ye ken?"

  "Ah, lad. 'Twas plain to me that ye were in love with her already when ye saved her and her bairn. When I heard she was missing from Dunnedin and kenned ye were on yer way here, I just thought she would be with ye." She paused and looked at him. "Am I wrong then?"

  "Ye are most likely wrong about how it all happened but ye are right that she is here." He looked at her. "She left on her own, running away from her father and Struan's plan to marry her off to the MacLaren heir."

  "Angus MacLaren?"

  "Aye. Struan would keep her bairn and she would marry Angus. Next summer if everything is worked out between them."

  "Angus is a fair man. Would he force himself on the lass, do ye think?"

  "Ada, I dinna ken what part he haes in this. I dinna even ken if he wants to marry her. I only ken that Anice panicked, took her son, and left Dunnedin wi’out Struan's kenning or permission, once she heard the news. She caught up with me on the road here and begged my help."

  "And will ye give it?"

  Robert let out a breath. That was the question that he pondered most of the night and during the hours it took him to reach here. Now he knew the answer.

  "Aye, I will. I dinna ken how, but I want to help her."

  "Is there a way to stop the betrothal? Mayhap that would give ye time to come up with some way of helping her. Mayhap ye could speak to Angus and ask his cooperation in waiting to wed her until she is ready?"

  "After what Anice told me last night, she will never be ready for another marriage."

  "'Tis a shame that," Ada answered. "For I can only think that a marriage to someone else is the way to stop the one she doesna want."

  "She would never agree. She lives in absolute fear of submitting to a husband." Robert shook his head. There was no one he could think of who was both suitable and safe for Anice.

  Ada sat next to him and looked at him. She did not speak for several minutes
and then she smiled.

  "She would no' fear marrying the man who saved her life and her bairn's."

  "Are ye daft, Ada? She is my brother's wife. Even if she would agree to it, we canna marry."

  Robert leaned back against the cold stone wall behind him and closed his eyes. The longing within him threatened to overwhelm him. Marrying her would be his fondest desire. To live with her as husband and wife would fulfill the dreams he had hidden for many months. But his connection to Struan and Sandy made it impossible. For a woman could not marry her dead husband's sibling, even one who was illegitimate. His choice of her, and the place within the clan he would gain through acknowledgment, was as impossible now as before. And wishing it to be done could not make it so.

  "She is yer brother's widow. The old church teaches that 'tis a man's responsibility to care for his dead brother's family. 'Tis a long-held custom, Robert, one still honored and even practiced by many here in Dunbarton."

  "But Anice doesna practice the old church, Ada. Nor would Struan or the MacNab recognize the marriage. I fear 'tis just folly to believe it could be the way." He tamped down the longing and knew it would never work out.

  "Do ye love her, lad?"

  He nodded, unable to speak the words.

  "Would ye have her as wife?"

  Again, he nodded.

  "Then seek out Faither Cleirach before ye rule this as something impossible. Hear his words and decide." When he would have argued, she added, "She can consent to the marriage and not ken that ye and Sandy were brothers. Mayhap that would soothe yer mind."

  "Ye are suggesting that I deceive her into marriage?"

  "Nay, no' that. Just tell her that Faither Cleirach will hear yer vows wi’out the posting of banns or the witnesses. Ye can be married before she returns to Dunnedin and ye can face Struan as man and wife."

  "And will he?" He must be crazy to even begin to let thoughts of this into his mind. He could only blame it on his desire and love for her.