by Eliza Knight
“That sounds like something my mother would say.” Eva brushed at the tears on her cheeks.
Lorna smiled. “I think I would like her verra much.”
“And she would like you, too.”
“Come, let me help ye get ready since I sent your maid away.”
Eva agreed without hesitation. “How far is Dornoch from here?”
“A week, if the ride is fast, twice that, if ye’re taking your time.”
“Oh. So Strath is one of the family members who is scattered.”
“Aye. Sadly. But for the men, it is even worse, because not only are their holdings scattered, but they are involved much with the king, so often on campaign.”
“Is your husband gone much?”
“Not as much as he used to be.”
Lorna pulled out of her wardrobe. “We had this one made for ye. Seemed unfair for ye to only have one gown.”
Would their kindness never cease? Eva felt weightless, ready to collapse with gratitude. But she forced herself to stand strong against the tide of emotions sweeping her up. “Thank you, I can never repay you enough for all you’ve done for me.”
“Loving our nephew is payment enough. The lad went through a lot with that last one.” Lorna held up the gown, examining it with a fine eye and running her fingers down the side and along the hem.
“It is beautiful.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I heard about…Jean Guinn.”
Lorna nodded. “I think it goes without saying that if ye break his heart, ye’ll have a lot of enemies.” Lorna said it with a laugh, but the veiled threat was still implied.
“I swear I will not hurt him.” Eva crossed her hands over her heart.
“’Tis ironic, is it nae, that his last betrothed was Scottish and an enemy of his clan? And now he has found ye, an English lass, who should be his enemy but is not?”
“Half Scots,” Eva teased. “The irony has not been lost on me, either.”
“I do love a happy ending.”
“Me, too.” Eva bit her lip, easily hiding her face as she slipped out of her old gown and washed up to put on the new one. Would theirs be a happy ending?
Why did it feel like they were all getting ahead of themselves?
“Do you think he’ll forgive me for not having told him the truth sooner?”
“Oh, aye. He’s a smart lad.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Go behind the screen, I’ll see who it is.” Lorna went to the door, opened it a crack, and spoke to whoever was in the corridor in hushed tones.
Eva stood still, straining to hear what they said, but she couldn’t make out the words. Then the door clicked closed once more, she peeked around the side of the screen.
Lorna stood in the center of the chamber. There was a pained expression on her beautiful face. She didn’t speak for several moments, so long that Eva wasn’t certain she would.
“What is it?” Eva asked nervously, stepping out into the room.
“The scouts have spotted an English army headed this way.”
Chapter Seventeen
Eva stood in the center of her chamber, staring at the closed door. Only moments before, Lorna had been there. She’d been hopeful of a future with Strath, and now she feared for any type of future she could have.
The English were coming.
Belfinch. Her father.
Eva swallowed past the knot of fear in her throat, her mouth suddenly dry. The idea of pouring herself a cup of water seemed an insurmountable task. Her feet were heavy. Her limbs paralyzed.
What was she to do? Should she pack? Prepare for…whatever was to come? There was nothing to pack. She’d come only with the ragged dress Strath had used for bait, and now only possessed the two gowns Lorna had gifted her. But she couldn’t take both. Instead, she would leave with only the gown on her back.
She wasn’t a warrior. She wasn’t a leader. She didn’t even reside at this castle. There was nothing she could do to prepare. Unless she put together another basket of healing supplies. That was something. If Wee Duff had let her work on his wounds, other men would too, wouldn’t they? But the castle likely had their own healer, and Eva would only be in the way, and winning over one Scot was different than hundreds.
Eva took a few shaky steps toward a chair and sank heavily onto it.
The English had been spotted. There was no telling when they’d arrive. Could be in a few minutes, could be hours. Could even be tomorrow.
What would her future be then? When Belfinch arrived, what if he said he’d leave as long as they handed her over? Was her life worth more than a hundred men? Nay.
She would have to surrender herself. Because she couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of a war. The very idea of surrender had her belly heaving, and she rushed to a chamber pot, but nothing came out. She’d not eaten since the day before. But her body didn’t get the message, and she heaved some more.
Eyes watering, she staggered toward her bed and lay down. She stared at the wall where the window let in sunlight, so different from the rain they’d been having.
Were the kittens all right?
All she could do was wait and try to figure out a way to say goodbye to a life she’d learned to love and people she’d come to like and respect in so short a time. To say goodbye to Strath…a man she’d envisioned spending the rest of her life with.
Some time later, noise from the bailey compelled her to rise. Eva went to the window, pulled back the skin that covered the arrow slit, and peered outside. Men stood on the walls, the spring sun glinting off their weapons. There were more of them than she’d seen the night they arrived, all standing straight and rigid.
Would they battle right there where she could see them? Would they simply take her and go? What if Belfinch demanded blood? What if Strath didn’t win? What if Belfinch could not be subdued?
Fear struck her then, causing a cold sweat to bead on her spine. She didn’t want to wed Belfinch. She didn’t want to go back to Northwyck. She wanted the life she’d thought she’d have just that morning—a life with Strath.
“I won’t marry Belfinch,” she said to no one. Even if she had to go in order to save lives, she would find a way to escape that fate. She would find a way to go to her sister. To live near London, maybe even as a governess to her sister’s children. Why wed anyone if she couldn’t have the one man she truly wanted?
A horn blew a warning, rending the air. Dear God, it was happening now. Belfinch had arrived.
Eva searched out the source but didn’t see any men on the wall with a horn or any riders yet on the horizon.
Had the noise come from the village? From a warrior at the top of the keep that she couldn’t see?
The horn blew again, sending gooseflesh to rise along her arms. A knock sounded at the door, and Lady Lorna opened it softly.
“Eva, I must request ye remain in your chamber for your safety.”
She nodded without question, knowing the order did not come from the lady herself. Besides, she was certain even if she could, she’d not be able to speak. For what could she say besides goodbye?
“Can I get ye anything?”
Eva shook her head, trying to find a voice. “Is it possible to speak with Strath?”
“I doubt it, lass. The men are putting on their armor. But I will tell him ye wish to speak to him.”
“Thank you.” Eva turned back to the window as Lady Lorna departed, her face drawn.
The men were donning armor. That meant Strath was in the barracks. She had to speak to him, to apologize once more and beg his forgiveness. She just had to pray he would return to her, that all would be absolved. And to tell him her decision and hope it would save blood from being shed.
Eva opened her door a crack, fearing that Strath might have put a guard on her door, but the corridor was empty. Lifting the hem of her skirt, she hurried toward the stairs, stopping to listen at the top of them. The sounds of people moving about did not appear to be coming from th
e stairwell. At each twist, she paused a moment to listen and finally made it the bottom.
The great hall held at least a dozen men who looked deep enough in serious conversation not to pay her any mind. She slipped past the great hall and was reaching for the wide oak door that led to the bailey when it was pushed open. There before her was the man she’d gone to find.
Strath looked magnificent and fearsome in his leather-studded armor and weapons strapped about his hips. The hilt of his claymore jutted above his shoulder.
“What are ye doing down here? Did my aunt not tell ye to remain in your chamber?”
Eva nodded. “She did, but I had to find you. We have to talk, it will only take a moment.”
“Come, lass. ’Tis dangerous.” He gently gripped her elbow and started to tug her back toward the stairs, but Eva dug in her heels.
“Please, Strath, I have to know that you forgive me for not telling you my whole story upfront.”
He paused a moment, cupped her cheek. “Princess, I understand, and ye have nothing to forgive. I would have done the same thing.”
Relief flooded her and she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his middle and hugging him tight. He kissed her swiftly, and then said, “Come, it is not safe.”
“Where are Lorna and Isobel?” If they’d been in the solar to wait out the battle, Lorna would not have requested Eva remain in her chamber alone.
He frowned. “As mistress of the castle, my aunt has duties to attend to when we’re at war. And so does my cousin.”
“I want to be a part of those duties. I can help them. And there is something else.”
The muscle in the side of Strath’s jaw ticked. He knew her well enough to know she would put up a fight. No doubt he was trying to come up with a resolution that would suit them both.
“What is it?” he asked.
This was the hard part. And she’d not realized just how difficult it would be. “I…I’m going to surrender myself.”
“What?” Hardness glittered in his eyes, and she realized what those very words would indicate to him. That she’d used him. That all this time, she’d been a liar.
Eva was quick to recover before he could draw more conclusions. “I love you, Magnus, but my life is not worth the lives of all your men. If I go with Belfinch, there will be no battle.”
“Is that what ye want? To go with him?” Coldness infused every word. Already he was hardening his heart to her.
She reached for him, but he backed up a step. “That is not what I want.”
“Then why would ye willingly go?”
“To save your men.”
“Ye think I’m not capable of saving my own men?”
“That is not what I meant.”
“Tell me, Princess, exactly when did ye decide ye’d go with Belfinch when he came for ye? Was it in the chapel, or when I had ye spread out beneath me?”
Eva gasped at the anger in his words. How quickly he’d changed from that morning. She blinked back tears. “You’re cruel.”
“I’m cruel?” He let out a sharp, disdainful laugh and backed up a few paces. “And what would ye call what ye’ve just accomplished?”
The pain in Eva’s heart broke it apart piece by piece. “You’re twisting my words. You think because I aim to help you avoid a battle that I’m somehow the same as Jean Guinn. I thought you knew me better than that, but it would appear all I was to you was a body to slake your lust on. And I told you that I love you. I opened my heart to you, and you have broken it.”
Strath looked as though she’d slapped him, and she felt the pain of every metaphorical blow.
When next he spoke, his voice was calmer. “If there was a way to avoid battle and keep ye here, would ye choose to stay?”
“Aye,” she answered without hesitation. “I thought you were smart enough to understand that. But is that possible?”
“I can try.”
Eva bit her lip, the tears she’d been trying not to shed slipping out. “I cannot believe you thought I would betray you.”
“I’m sorry, lass, I do know you better than that. It was a gut reaction.” He came closer and gathered her into his arms.
At first, she resisted, but then she sank against his warmth. “I don’t want to be the cause of your people getting hurt.”
“Ye willna be the cause, Princess. Belfinch is wanted by my king for his crimes against our country. Whether or not ye were there or here, my duty has always been to take him.”
Knowing that made her feel a little better.
“I canna allow ye to leave with him. I want to marry ye, Eva.” He tipped her chin and kissed her gently. “I want to spend the rest of my days with ye.”
“And I want to spend mine with you, too.”
“So stop this nonsense about giving yourself over to that monster.”
Eva nodded, swallowing hard. He was right. It was foolish to think that giving herself over would do anything but break both their hearts. Knowing Belfinch, as soon as he had her in his grasp, he’d attack anyway, just because he loved bloodshed.
“I want ye in your chamber, protected, because if for some reason the man breaks through our ranks, your barred door will be an added protection. Would ye like Isobel to stay with ye? I can make it so.”
Eva nodded. “Aye. I don’t want to wait alone.”
“’Tis just a precaution, Eva. I will come for ye. By the time night falls, all this will be over.”
It was time.
For the first time in his life as a warrior, Strath was not ready. It wasn’t that he wasn’t ready to take on Belfinch, to lift his sword, or anything to do with that part of the battle. In those areas, he was completely confident.
What had his ballocks in a vice right now was the beautiful lass hidden in her chamber. If this didn’t work out the way he’d planned, he might never see her again.
When she’d said she was willing to sacrifice herself, his mind had first gone back to those moments with Jean Guinn. Guilt riddled him for ever comparing the two of them. He’d known from the very start that Eva was different. And he didn’t care that she’d kept her mother’s heritage secret. Aye, at first he’d been disappointed, but when it came down to it, that truth altered nothing.
Jamie came to stand beside Strath on the battlements. “The scout saw two liveries in the English garrison marching toward Glasgow, which means Belfinch and Northwyck will be here within the hour, if not sooner.”
Strath nodded. They’d had the horns blown so those in the fields and mountains would know to take themselves somewhere safe.
Only time would tell what kind of man Northwyck was. He prayed the man was kind to his daughter, that he listened when Strath told him to stand down, because he wasn’t the one he was after. Because while he was prepared to fight the man, Strath would hate to explain that to Eva. Even if she didn’t harbor the fondest memories of her father, to know the one she loved killed him would be hard. But Belfinch… He was going to have a hard time not running the man through. Eva’s bruised face had healed, but the torment she’d been put through must still be raw, for he’d felt it all the way deep in his bones when she’d spoken of the bastard’s treatment of her.
And despite what he’d told her, there was no way in hell was he going to let her leave with Belfinch.
The horns blew once more from the keep, a warning to those in the village that an enemy was near. Men, women, and children would be preparing for their arrival. The men with weapons, the women and children hiding.
As soon as the horn had been blown, Lady Lorna had taken in the villagers who needed a safe place, and he had to trust that Eva was still safely in her chamber with Isobel.
A warrior rushed up the stairs, panting. “My laird,” he said to Jamie. “We’ve gotten word, English soldiers were seen in the woods.”
“Let us prepare for battle.”
Strath followed his uncle down the stairs to the bailey. The stable master had readied Beast, and Strath leapt onto his back an
d settled in the saddle.
Flanking him on horseback was Tomaidh and Uncle Jamie. Each of them wore their armor, as he did, and though they did not have their weapons drawn yet, they were ready for anything should they be needed.
His horse’s flesh rippled beneath his thighs. The animal could feel his angst, and he loosened his grip and rubbed a gloved hand over his warhorse’s mane. Beast sidestepped, mouthed his bit, sensing battle was near.
“Are ye ready?” Uncle Jamie asked.
“Aye.”
“Is she?” Tomaidh added.
Strath shrugged, recalling how Eva had been willing to sacrifice herself. “What choice does she have?”
Immediately, he felt like a complete arse for saying it. Strath chalked it up to the cold sensation of fear that was trying to get a grip on his spine. The sensation was new, and he hated it. But dammit, he loved her and he didn’t want to lose her.
Tomaidh grunted, and Strath could feel his judgment in that one sound.
They’d not spoken since he’d given Wee Duff a lashing, and Strath was glad of it, but at the same time also disappointed. He wished he’d had more time to explain to his best mate how much he loved her, even if it made him seem weak-kneed.
He wished to hell Belfinch was out of the picture.
Why did it feel like Fate and time had messed with his head? Was this God’s way of telling him he’d not yet made up for the mistakes he’d made in his past? That in order to prove himself, he had to lose?
Because that’s what it felt like. Even if he had Belfinch’s neck beneath his blade, to lose her would be like that blade slicing into his own heart.
“I love her,” Strath said to no one in particular. “I dinna want to lose her.”
Jamie slapped him on the back and squeezed his shoulder. “I know that feeling verra well, lad. Fight like the devil, and ye’ll come back to her.”
“Thank ye, uncle.” Strath cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus on things other than love. “If it comes to battle,” he said to Tomaidh, “make certain the lass’s father is safe. Though he is a blackguard and doesna give a damn about his daughter, I would like her to see we spared his life.”