“Och, lass. Dinnae fash. We will find a way tae get ye home.”
“’Tis not home that I weep for.” Amelia shook her head in denial. She was feeling vulnerable and a bit trapped between the two burly men. They were of average height for a man, but as broad as anyone she had ever seen. They had dark brown hair down to the tops of their shoulders, with full beards, and dark brown eyes. They were as solidly built as two immovable walls. There was very little difference between them, but for the variance in the grey streaks in their beards.
“Why do ye weep then, lass?”
She decided to tell them the truth, feeling as though she had little choice but to be truthful with the men if she ever wished to garner their aid in returning to her search for Grace and the men who took her. She felt somewhat reassured as she remembered the man who had killed the healer saying that it was all about the ransom money and not about murdering Grace or Amelia herself. She felt as if the distinction gave her a bit of leeway in her pursuit of the truth, but she did not wish to push Grace’s captors into making a desperate move.
“I weep for my sister, Grace. She was taken from us and I have been searching for her. I thought I had found one of the men who took her and was following him through the forest in hopes that he would lead me to her but lost him.”
“How did ye come tae fall from yer horse?”
“I was poisoned.”
“Poisoned!?” Both brothers exclaimed in unison.
“Who would want tae poison a wee lass like ye?” Malcolm asked angrily. His fists were clenched as if he were ready to beat anyone responsible for such a devious action.
“The men who took Grace paid an old healer for camphor and used it to poison me. It is unclear whether they intended to kill me or simply to make me sick to warn me off of my search.”
“Och, lass,” Alasdair shook his head in sympathy of her plight.
“Well nae one will find ye here if ye wish tae restore yer health afore ye continue yer search for yer sister,” Malcolm offered.
“Should we nae send word tae yer family that ye are alive and well?” Alasdair pointed out.
“Would that nae risk her bein’ found out by the brigands who took her sister?” Malcolm pointed out to his brother.
“Aye, I suppose it would, but were she my daughter I would want tae ken that she was safe.”
“Aye, as would I.”
Amelia looked at each man in turn, then smiled slightly. The two brothers had gone from something that she feared and distrusted, to two protective guardians. The anger and indignation on their faces for all that she had been through was quite real and brought her a great deal of reassurance that she had not fallen into the hands of bad men.
“There is no need to notify my family, I honestly doubt that my father would care other than what it would do to his reputation.”
Amelia knew that she should send word to Tristan on her whereabouts, but if she had then he would have come for her demanding that she return to Canterley for her own safety. Returning to Canterley felt as if it were a defeat. She had been so close to discovering the identity of the man who had killed the old healer. She did not wish to go back home, under her father’s thumb, to sit and do nothing. If she could return to the place where she had lost the trail of the killer, then perhaps she could continue her search.
“I cannae imagine a faither nae wishin’ tae ken that his daughter is safe.”
“He does not even know that I am missing.”
The brothers wore identical expressions of amazement. “How is such a thing possible?” Alasdair asked.
“It is possible,” Amelia did not wish to go into the details. “Perhaps you can help me.”
“What is it, lass?”
Amelia went on to describe the man that she was chasing through the forest. She told them of his voice, what little of his appearance she could make out peering through the veil of her eyelashes, and the path she last knew he was taking. “Have you seen such a man around here before?”
“Nae, lass. We dinnae get many people here, and tae be honest we prefer it that way,” Alasdair answered.
Malcolm nodded. “Aye, we do at that.”
“I am sorry to have disturbed your peace.” Amelia could understand why they would feel the way that they did. If she lived in such a beautiful setting, she too would wish to keep it untarnished by other people’s presence.
“Och, nae. Think nothin’ o’ it, lass. We are happy tae be o’ aid. It sounds as if it were better that we found ye rather than the man ye were followin’. I hate tae think what would have happened tae ye had it been him that hurt ye with the camphor.” Alasdair smiled reassuringly at her. “Ye are welcome here with us for as long as ye need.”
“I cannot stay here for long, but if you could return me to the place where I lost the trail of the man upon the morn, I would be most grateful. I would happily pay you for the inconvenience once I have returned home. Unfortunately, when I lost my horse, I lost all of my possessions.”
“Ye need nae fash o’er such a thing. We dinnae need yer money, lass. What I am concerned for is ye goin’ after that man alone. I ken that we are nae o’ yer family, but I cannae in good faith allow ye tae do so. Were ye tae fall tae harm by another’s hand I would nae be able tae look at myself as an honorable man.”
“Aye,” Malcolm agreed with his brother.
Amelia smiled at their kindness. “You are most kind, both of you.”
“Remain here for the night, then one o’ us will go with ye upon the morn. We would both go with ye, but someone must remain here with Maither,” Alasdair explained.
“I would not wish for you to leave your dear mother all alone.” The thought of such a frail old woman being left in such an out of the way place with men such as the one who killed the healer about, caused a shiver of dread to pass along her spine.
“Nae.” Malcolm stood and helped her to her feet.
They walked back to the cottage and found Eilidh setting food out on the table. The pottage that had been simmering in the fireplace when Amelia had bathed now sat steaming in large wooden trenchers on the table, along with bread and cheese. Amelia sat down at the table and breathed in the smell of the stew. It was lamb with potatoes and carrots. It tasted fantastic. She ate as if ravenous, mopping up the remainder with bread in a most unladylike fashion.
Amelia looked up to find all three of them smiling at her. “My apologies. I appear to have forgotten my manners having spent so much time along the road.”
“Nae at all, lass. We are pleased that ye are enjoyin’ yerself. Ye were quite the sad wee thing when we found ye. ‘Tis good tae see a bit o’ light in yer eyes,” Malcolm noted, raising his tankard of ale in salute before downing its contents.
Amelia was surprised to find that he was right. For the briefest of moments, she had enjoyed herself. For the briefest of moments, she had forgotten her cares and simply savored something. She could not remember having done so in quite some time. The thought filled her with alarm. I cannot for the briefest of moments forget my purpose. Grace does not get a reprieve from her terror, so I shall not from my worry.
“Are ye well, lass? Ye have suddenly gone pale again,” Malcolm reached out as if he were going to touch her arm, but then thought better of it and pulled his hand back.
“I was thinking about my sister.”
“Ye felt guilty for findin’ a moment o’ relief while she still suffers?” Eilidh noted quietly, studying her face in sympathetic understanding.
“How do you know?”
“I remember feelin’ the same after my husband died. The first time I felt happiness after his death the guilt was verra nearly unbearable. Ye dinnae need to feel guilty for nae bein’ sad every moment o’ the day and night. Nae matter what happens with yer sister, and may God be with the poor wee lamb, ye must go on livin’, lass. If she loves ye at all, she would nae be wantin’ ye tae put yerself in danger, or tae live in such torment as ye have clearly done.”
Ame
lia marveled at the old woman’s insight. “I will not rest until Grace is found.”
“Nor should ye, but dinnae lose yerself in the doin’ o’ it.”
“Is such a thing even possible?”
“I dinnae ken, lass. Only ye can decide such a thing for yerself.”
Amelia sat looking into Eilidh’s knowing gentle brown eyes so filled with compassion and wondered at all of the years and things she had seen. She hoped that if she lived to see such years she would be as wise and caring as Eilidh. She nodded her head in acknowledgement of the older woman’s words, but in her heart, she did not care if she did lose herself as long as Grace was returned safely and the men who took her were apprehended.
“As long as Grace is found, I do not care what happens to me.”
Malcolm cleared his throat and she turned to meet his eyes. “That, lass, is the verra thing we are afraid o’.”
Chapter 18
Come the morning, Amelia and Malcolm left the cottage and headed back into the forest. She had bid Eilidh and Alasdair farewell and promised to return for a visit in the future. She would never forget her time with them as it had been the first time since Grace’s abduction that she had felt any peace. In saving Amelia, they had reminded her that not everyone was out to harm her family. She had begun to forget that after all that had transpired.
They traveled until night began to fall and made camp among the trees. Malcolm lit a fire and prepared their supper, while Amelia gathered kindling and set out their saddles and blankets. When supper was over, they talked about their lives growing up as children, each so very different from the other.
Amelia found that she envied Malcolm and Alasdair their family life, before they had lost their father. Each having lost a parent, bonded them in their mutual understanding of the pain such a loss could cause. She told him everything from her mother’s death, to Grace’s abduction, to all that had transpired afterwards. Once she started talking it was as if she could not stop. The story fell from her lips in a cascade of misery.
“Och, lass. Ye have had a difficult way o’ it. Ye ne’er married then?”
“Nay,” she shook her head. “Caring for Grace was my primary concern.”
“And what o’ this Tristan lad ye spoke o’?”
“Nay. There is nothing between us.”
Malcolm chuckled. “I dinnae believe that for one moment.”
“What of you?”
“I was married tae Sarah, a bonnie lass. She died in childbirth along with the bairn, a son.”
“I am sorry.”
Malcolm nodded. “Afterwards I returned home tae help with things durin’ faither’s illness.”
“And Alasdair?”
“He had ne’er left. He ne’er wed and had nae inclination tae do so.”
They chatted in this way sitting around the fire for some time attempting to keep the cold and darkness at bay. It had been a long time since Amelia had felt safe and she was tired of feeling frightened all of the time. Malcolm reminded her of Fergus and that made her feel safer than she had since being poisoned. “I’m sure that the young lad ye left behind is beside himself with worry for ye.”
“I can assure you that he is,” a voice sounded from the darkness behind Malcolm and the blade of a knife caught the fire’s light at his throat.
* * *
Tristan and Henry followed the trail until the two diverged one from the other. One veered off back toward the road, while the other climbed higher into the forested mountains of the Anglo-Scottish border lake country. They exchanged a look, nodded, and parted ways with the agreement to meet back at the village where they had rented the horse when they were done. Henry followed the trail back toward the road. Tristan, as the better tracker, took the trail heading up into the mountains.
Tristan traveled until night fell, rested, then come day break set out again. He traveled all the next day losing the trail here and there, but he kept going. When night fell again, he was about to set up camp when he saw what appeared to be the light of a fire in the distance. It was a fair distance and he knew that it was dangerous to ride through the mountains in the dark, but the tiny ember had sparked hope in his heart, and he could not stop.
He picked his way carefully through the trees toward the light. He moved as silently as he could so that if it was not Amelia or she was not alone and had been taken prisoner he would not alert them to his presence. When he got within range to where he could make out the silhouette of someone against the fire’s light, he dismounted and silently crept up behind them. When he heard a man’s voice speaking, he drew his hunting knife and moved directly behind him.
“I’m sure that the young lad ye left behind is beside himself with worry for ye,” the man was saying to Amelia, her face illuminated by the flames.
Tristan brought his knife up to the man’s throat in one swift motion. “I can assure you that he is,” he growled.
“Tristan!” Amelia cried out and stood up in surprise.
The man under his knife moved ever so slightly. “Do not move,” he commanded. The man stopped and sat completely still.
“I mean ye nae harm,” the man attempted to reassure him.
“The dead healer might have something to say about that.”
“Nay, Tristan. Malcolm had nothing to do with that. That was another man entirely,” Amelia cautioned him, her hands outstretched.
Tristan looked up at Amelia in surprise. “Then who is this? Has he taken you prisoner?”
“Nay, Malcolm is a friend. He and his family have been helping me. They saved me, Tristan.”
Tristan relaxed his hold and moved the knife away from the man’s throat. He moved around to the side and glared at Amelia across the flames. “What were you thinking running off like that?! Have you gone mad?!” He shouted angrily.
The man she had called Malcolm moved to stand beside Amelia as if to guard her from Tristan’s rage. “Easy now, lad,” he warned.
“You stay out of this!” Tristan commanded. He turned his attention back to Amelia. “Well? Answer me damn it or so help me I will…” Tristan never got to finish the sentence before Malcolm’s fist had jerked out and rammed into his jaw sending him flying into the dirt. He thought he heard Amelia cry out his name, but he could not be sure with the ringing in his ears.
“I warned ye nae tae speak tae the lass that way.”
“That you did,” Tristan sat up groaning. He rubbed his jaw and wiggled it about a bit to ensure that nothing was broken. The man had a fist like a boulder.
“Malcolm, you should not have hit him,” Amelia reprimanded her large friend.
“Nay, Amelia. I would have done the same if our roles had been reversed. I am glad that you found a protector in my absence.” Malcolm stepped forward and offered Tristan a hand up. Tristan accepted it and stood. He moved around to sit on a log near the fire and met Amelia’s eyes. “You could have died.”
“I know.”
“Do you not care that your actions harm not only yourself but others who care about you?”
Amelia shook her head. “My life is a small sacrifice to make.”
Tristan could have throttled her. “You are a foolish girl.”
“Mayhap, but it does not change anything.”
“I fear that your grief has driven you mad.”
“Of that I am certain.”
Tristan stared at her in silence. No matter what he said or did she was going to do as she liked. There was no way to stop her short of tying her up and hauling her home in a sack. Sighing, he rubbed his hands across his face. “You are the most infuriating noblewoman I have ever had the pleasure to meet.”
“You would know as you have met quite a lot of them, have you not.”
Tristan snorted in amusement at her quip about his social calendar. “I am not the man you think me to be with the ladies of the ton.”
Amelia made a sound of disbelief. Malcolm sat off to the side watching them with an amused glint in his eyes. Now there is a man
who sees straight through the matter. A budding respect for the man began to grow. He is a fierce protector. Fergus will like him.
“What happened, Amelia?”
Tears sprung to her eyes and she looked away for a moment before turning back to face him. She took a deep breath then told him the entire story of all that had transpired since she had run leaving him at the inn. When she was done, Tristan closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself before he said anything. “You could have been killed.”
“I know.”
“You cannot continue to do this, Amelia.”
“I know.”
The Haunted Knight 0f Lady Canterley Page 15