The Highlander's Brave Baroness (Blood 0f Duncliffe Series Book 10)

by Emilia Ferguson

  “I asked you here to dine with me for two reasons,” he said, as Brogan, grinning and red-faced with pride, placed a plate in front of her and another before the abbot. “First, because I wished you to sample the finer fare the abbey has to offer,” he grinned, “and second,” he added, as Brogan left, shutting the door behind him, “because I wished you to be able to talk with me alone. There is much I want to say.”

  “Oh?” Adeline frowned, laying the linen napkin over her lap carefully. While the abbot said grace, she glanced about the office again, trying to calm her racing thoughts. What was it he wanted to say? “I understand that my stay here cannot be made too long,” she began carefully.

  “Oh, no, daughter,” he interrupted, flapping a friendly hand at her. “That wasn’t it at all! No, you may stay as long as you see fit. The reason I wished to speak with you was to discuss relations with the manor, when you leave.” He lifted his fork to his lips, laden with a generous helping of potato.

  Adeline, her fork poised to her own lips, frowned at him. “Father, that’s just the matter. I am not sure whether I will be leaving.”

  “I know,” he said gently. “And I wished to discuss that with you. This place was not meant as a refuge, Lady Adeline, though many use it as one. And I think you, of all people, have very little to run from in the outside world.” He raised a brow, regarding her with those colorless eyes.

  Adeline laid her fork beside her plate, very carefully. She bought herself time, straightening her napkin, letting herself consider the best response. The comment angered her and she did not wish to offend the abbot. He knew nothing of her, and had no right to judge her choice.

  “I think that it is very hard to say, from the outside, what hardships another person has,” she said carefully.

  He smiled. “Well said, milady. And indeed, it is so. We cannot know the pain another feels, and so we should always be kind.”

  Adeline nodded. Fleetingly, she was reminded of Alexander – that gentle smile, and those eyes that spoke of so much hidden pain. She wished, wistfully, then, that she could have heard more of his story.

  “Milady, I do not seek to judge. Only to remind you that you have a son, and a duty, and a thousand reasons to live.”

  Adeline swallowed. As much as his comment stung, she felt that he was right. She had no desire to hide herself here behind these walls, or any others. She wanted to see her son grow into manhood, to watch him bring prosperity to the estate. She wanted to see Alexander again, and hear his story.

  “I know,” she whispered. “But, Father, how can I go back?”

  “You can always go back.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “To go back to where you were, yes,” he nodded. “But mayhap there is another place?”

  “No,” she said. “There is no other place that’s safe for me. My uncle would find me, and then it would be worse for whoever had helped me. Only here am I safe.”

  “I see,” he said.

  For a while, there was silence at the table. Adeline took up her knife and fork again. She was hungry. She sampled the potatoes. They were surprisingly good, fried with butter from the abbey’s cattle. She closed her eyes and chewed, tasting the rich flavor of Highland butter and salt.

  “I will stay here for a week,” Adeline said as she thought. “And then? Mayhap I can lodge with the holy sisters at the abbey in Bracemure?”

  “Mayhap,” was all he said.

  Adeline finished the neaps, reaching for a slice of fresh-baked bread to go with it. She was very hungry, she realized. She’d barely eaten since the ride.

  “I will see to it that the abbey is well compensated for its care of me,” she began. He shook his head.

  “I do not seek repayment, daughter,” he said. “I counsel you sincerely. There must be something grand on the horizon, or why is it that you made it through the woods? If you were meant to leave this world, you could have left it then.”

  Adeline nodded. “You are right.”

  “Well, then?” the gaunt priest smiled. “Think you not that there might be something wonderful, just for you, just waiting for you to discover it?”

  Adeline gave him a small smile in return. “Mayhap,” she said gently.

  They finished the meal in silence.

  Afterward, Adeline went back to her chamber. She tried to rest, but a strange restlessness had possessed her. She stood and walked briskly through to the tiny garden. It was dusk outside, an evening fragrant with damp and the scent of herbs. She closed her eyes and leaned on a sun-warmed wall, melting in a sea of birdsong.

  There might be something wonderful, just for you, just waiting for you to discover it.

  She smiled. In her mind’s eye, she knew exactly what she wished for. She could see a small cottage, one almost like the cell at the abbey, but a little bigger, and more nicely furnished. It had trailing briars around the windows, and looked out onto a garden, much like this one, which was fragrant with herbs and summer evening.

  Somewhere close by, Tam would take care of the manor, and grow to be a fine man. In the cottage, sitting in the sitting room, working on some project or other, was a weathered scarred soldier with a smile like sunshine.

  “Stop it right there, Adeline,” she said, smiling in spite of her strict tone. “That’s too far, imagining Alexander in it.”

  That was a dream that would never come true.

  Standing, she walked back into the abbey.

  “Brogan?” she called.

  “Yes, milady?” He appeared almost at once as she reached her doorway, looking up at her with a small frown.

  “Can you find a needle and thread for me?” she asked. “I must mend a hole in my riding clothes.”

  “Of course, milady,” he said, and hurried off.

  While the light lasted, she sewed shut the hole in her riding dress, where a twig had caught it. Then she packed it away and changed into her nightgown, ready for sleep. The next morning, she was woken by the sonorous ring of the bell and the sound of the monks, barely awake, heading to morning prayers. She had no more answers on waking than she’d had before.

  “Come on, Adeline. Go and find some breakfast.”

  The day passed, and another. They each seemed to be filled with a growing hopelessness.

  On the third day, she went to the abbot, desperate.

  “Give me something to do?” she begged. “I am going to go mad! The peace here is all very well, but I must have something to think about.”

  The abbot nodded. “How are you at gathering strawberries?”

  Adeline stared at him. “Um, well…I can’t say I know much about it,” she demurred. She’d never gathered strawberries in her life.

  “Well, Brogan can instruct you in the basics,” the abbot said carefully. “But it would be a mighty good thing to have them harvested.”

  Adeline beamed and, feeling slightly better than she had in a while, went to find Brogan.

  Working outside was a pleasure. Back bent under the rising sun, she knelt on a wad of old rags in between the mounds of dirt on which the strawberry plants had been planted in orderly rows. The smell of the soil was rich and strangely bittersweet. She picked the sun-warmed fruits and listened to the drowsing of bees in the flowers.

  She was working at the back of the garden, which was separated from the front by a low hedge, the whole plot surrounded by high hedges or stone walls. The monks had come out of the chapel, and she could see some of them on the other side of the hedge, sitting on the benches under tall cypresses. If she listened carefully, she could almost hear their conversations.

  “Horsemen!” a monk called out suddenly, startling her.

  Adeline tensed. Standing, she flattened herself against the hedge and peered out.

  Horsemen were coming down the road. As she watched, she caught sight of the ears of a white horse, and, on its back, a grim-faced rider. Her heart almost stopped as she recognized him. It was McGuide.

  Stepping ba
ck, hoping that she blended with the hedge and shadows, she watched the riders stream past. McGuide was followed by a man on a chestnut horse, and then two more, each wearing the green and blue colors of his house. He was clearly on some earnest business.

  Business like following me.

  She felt almost too afraid to move. The monks had been chattering excitedly about it, but, as the horsemen disappeared and the sound of hoof beats faded into quiet, they lost interest. She saw one of them walk back past the pond and to the scriptorium. Slowly, the others followed.

  Adeline let herself go back to where she’d been. She curled up between the rows of strawberries, knees to her chest. She was shivering.

  “I didn’t think he’d come this far.”

  Surely, he would have looked at more obvious places, like Lowkirk, or Duncliffe? Of all the places he would have expected a single woman, riding alone, to travel, up this far north was surely not one of them. Crouched between the rows of strawberry plants, she hoped her trust in the abbot was not misplaced, and that he wouldn’t betray her, not even if McGuide made his customary threats.

  She made herself finish her task.

  By the time the ripened strawberries were all picked, her basket was full and the sun was nearing its noon height. She stood, straightening her back. As she did so, she caught sight of a movement. It was near the hedge. It could have been a blackbird, darting into the sheltering bulk of the leaves. Or it could have been a head.

  Was someone lurking there?

  Adeline, legs suddenly stiff with terror, stepped back against the concealing shade of the hedge. She watched for a minute, then took a step forward.

  She caught sight of a motion again, and this time she was sure it was a person. Somebody had climbed in over the wall, and was hiding behind the hedge. She could see the silhouetted outline of a person, pressed behind the bulk of a privet.

  Adeline stood where she was. Terror made her heart ache, but she looked round, considering her options. At the corner of the strawberry patch was a hoe, the tine gleaming where it had been used to crack stone. She considered how likely it was that she would even be able to swing it, never mind use it to defend herself.

  At least I won’t have to go out unarmed.

  She took slow steps back until she was within arm’s reach of the wooden handle – watching the bush all the while. It was definitely the outline of a person crouching there. As she watched, he came forward and she could make out the brown of his cloak. His head and hair were concealed still by the overhanging leaves.

  As she crouched there, the man turned around. She grabbed the hoe and in one smooth motion burst out of the garden, the implement swinging round before her.

  “Out of my way!” she yelled.

  As she let the weight of the hoe drag her arms back, trying to look as threatening as she could, she screamed.

  “Alexander!”

  “Milady!”

  They looked at each other. In horror, for she had almost scythed him with the hoe, she let it go.

  She gaped at him. With his red-brown hair brushed back from his face, those heavy-set eyes staring, his face a picture of surprise and amazement, he looked almost amusing.

  She started to laugh. He started laughing too.

  “Milady!” he said. “You nearly killed me.”

  “I know!” she said. She chuckled, the shock turning into mirth that had her doubled over, her hands on her knees. She couldn’t breathe, she was laughing so much. She could hear him chuckling, too. The silent garden was suddenly alive with giggles.

  “Oh,” she gasped, after what felt like a long while. “I am so, so sorry, Alexander.”

  He was crouched over too, resting his back against a wall. He looked into her eyes.

  “Dinnae fret, milady,” he said, a slight grin twisting his thin-lipped mouth. “I’m just glad I was nae too fast. Ye almost hit me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. She felt guilty. She wouldn’t have defended herself, if she’d known it was him! “I thought it was somebody from the manor.”

  “I know,” he said, and she saw his concern in the sudden frown he gave. “It could have been. I saw them. I’m right glad ye can defend yourself.”

  “Thanks,” Adeline said, with her own grim smile. “I’m glad you know, now.”

  “You’re a strong woman,” he said.

  “Don’t remind me,” Adeline said with some bitterness. Her husband had always said she was unwomanly, too strong and overly willful for her own good. Uncle Alec said it, too. It wasn’t fair of him, to say the same!

  “What, lass?” he said after a long silence. “It’s a grand thing. I wish all women were like you.”

  Adeline stared at him. “Really?”

  The thought was so impossible, it barely made any sense. Her own father had suggested, albeit with some care, that she was too capable and too brusque. That she would be better off being weaker, and less blunt. Now this man said he liked it?

  He smiled. “Aye, lass. “I wouldn’t say it, else,” he chuckled. “Really. I knew a woman who was very like you, and…well…never mind.” His face closed up.

  Adeline frowned. There was something important here, some story from his past. She could see the lines sadness had etched on his face, and she knew there was a story there.

  “What?” she asked gently.

  “Nothing,” he said tightly. He stood up, shaking off his cloak where the mud thrown up by their run had sullied it. “We should go now,” he added.

  Adeline stood up, wiping dirt off her hands.

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “We should. It’s time I went to the kitchen. Brogan will be waiting for the strawberries.”

  “Who is Brogan?” he said at once.

  She felt her lips twitch in a smile. Was he feeling threatened? “He works here,” she said.

  “I see.”

  Was it her imagination, or did he sound relieved? She tried to hide her smile.

  “We should go back,” she reiterated, though, oddly, she felt reluctant to do it. Here in the evening, with the scent of earth and silence all around them, she felt at peace, and strangely contented.

  “I reckon, aye.”

  Neither of them moved. Adeline was close enough to him to see his eyelashes, and the one that had fallen onto his cheek. She could see the wrinkles on his cheeks and forehead, the marks of whatever it was that had distressed him so.

  He seemed to realize at about the same time as she did that they were alone together. He looked into her eyes. She looked back. She felt as though there were some strange compulsion pulling her forward, the way she had heard a lodestone drew iron. She wanted to keep looking into those dark brown eyes. She wanted to kiss him.

  In his eyes, she could see an eager longing. He was staring back at her, and she sensed that he wanted what she wanted as he leaned forward.

  Their lips met.

  Adeline closed her eyes as her body exploded into a sweet chorus of wonder. She could feel the touch of his lips rushing right down inside her, setting glowing embers in her belly, making her want to lean forward, to push her body against his.

  He seemed to feel it too, for he made a small growling sound in his throat and suddenly he was kneeling beside her on the loam, his arms wrapped tight around her.

  Adeline gasped, and felt an overwhelming urge to stay where she was, wrapped tight against his chest, his arms clasping her to him, his hands stroking her, filling her with a sweet urgency as he drew her close and she held him and her own fingers felt his shoulders and her nostrils filled with the spicy scent of his hair…

  “No,” she gasped, leaning back. Her eyes took a moment to focus as they opened, her heart still throbbing. “We mustn’t.”

  He grunted, his own eyes open and seemingly dazed, as if he, too, had to take time to come back from the distant time and space where the kiss had driven him. However, he stood, hastily, nodding.

  “Och, you’re right, milady,” he nodded, hastily dusting off his trouser
leg as he reached a hand across toward her, helping her upright.

  “It’s not right, when I am Tam’s mother,” she said carefully. “I can’t let anybody say…”

  “I understand,” he said, cutting her words. His voice was cold, distant. “I ken.”

  Adeline felt her own heart ache. She wasn’t trying to say he wasn’t suitable for her! Well, yes…he wasn’t. However, that wasn’t what she wished him to think. Not now.

  “It isn’t that,” she said, not knowing what to say further.

  He looked sad. “Well, we’ll say nothing of it,” he said carefully. “I should go. You’re safe here, aren’t you, lass?”

  She looked into his eyes and nodded. A thought occurred to her. “Did you come here, looking for me?”

  He nodded. “I did, milady. When you…when you disappeared…we were worried, like. Tam…” he stopped, frowning.

  “My son knows where I am?” her heart filled with sudden wonderment. She hadn’t known how much it had worried her, having to leave Tam with no clear indication of her fate. She felt weak with relief and leaned against the wall, heavily.

  “Aye, milady,” Alexander said. “He wanted to see that you came to no harm. He knew your whereabouts was somewhere close to Stoneshead, but not exactly.”

  “I see,” she said. Oddly, the fact that Tam had sent Alexander upset her, at least a little. She had been touched, thinking he’d come here himself, with the intent of tracking her down. Knowing he came on behalf of her son was good, but not quite as good as it could have been.

  Stop being stupid, Adeline. You can get word to Tam! Shouldn’t you be pleased, about that?

  She nodded to herself.

  “Is my son well? Safe?” She hadn’t known how she worried for him, too, left in the clutches of his uncle. He was in all probability safe from him – it would have been of no good to Alec to harm Tam, who was the heir and, at least until he was nineteen, was Alec’s only claim on the manor. Still, she had been concerned for him.

  Alexander nodded. His lips twisted in a mirthless grin.

  “Aye,” he agreed. “He’s fine. He was glad to know whence you had gone. I can take word to him, if you want it?”