Amanda Forester (3 page)

Elyne needed to escape the confusion of the castle and enjoy some fresh air. Morning had brought a crisp day with a bright sun and a refreshing breeze.

“Ye can ride in the valley,” said David. “But dinna go farther.”

“Aye,” said Elyne absently, stepping onto the blocks to hoist herself up into the saddle.

“Elyne.” Her brother’s voice was low with warning, catching Elyne’s attention.

“Dinna leave the valley. We’ve heard the English are on the move. They still consider these lands part of England and will come for them someday, mark my words.”

“I understand,” said Elyne. She wanted to take a ride, not make herself an English prisoner. She took the reins in one gloved hand, and on the other arm, her falcon perched quietly. Giving her horse a click, she urged her mount forward, out of the stables.

It was a beautiful brisk day. Spring was in full bloom, and the flowers opened petals to smile back at the sun. The valley of Alnsworth Castle was a lush green, inviting exploration. Sheep grazed in the pasture. Some were freshly shorn, their pink skin showing through their new, tight haircut, while others were heavy with matted wool, waiting their turn for spring’s shearing.

Elyne gave her mount his head and let him run. She relished the wind on her face and the fresh, crisp air of a bright spring day. She was on the other side of the valley before long and reined in her horse, scanning the woods that formed the boundary of the valley. They rose majestically into the heights above. She knew the view must be something worth seeing, but she remembered her brother’s words and, with a longing glance, turned back to the valley to hunt.

Elyne rode along the edge of the forest, her falcon perched on her arm. The beautiful merlin falcon, a gift from her brother, wore a hood and bell until she should decide it was time to hunt for sustenance. With so many mouths to feed, Elyne was certain every scrap of food would be put to good use.

A splash of color caught her attention from the corner of her eye. A man on horseback was making his way through the trees, up the steep incline to the heights above. He moved into a clearing for an instant and a sudden shock coursed through her, like she had been stung by a bee. It was him. It was Tavish Grant.

He was leaving the valley. Did he not know the danger of traveling too far from the castle?

“Tavish Grant!” she yelled up to him, but he was at too great a distance to hear.

She urged her mount forward, up a little way into the trees, and called again. She heard no reply. Elyne debated within herself. He was a grown man; he could take risks if he chose. And yet he was unfamiliar with this place. Perhaps he did not know the dangers of the potential English troops. She would be remiss not to warn him.

She moved forward and found a small trail up the hill, through the trees. A small voice reminded her that she was not supposed to leave the valley, and she paused again, considering what to do. Memories of the night before flooded back. Tavish had stepped in to protect her when she needed him most. Would she now watch him leave without at least trying to warn him of the danger? If there really was an English war party coming to march on Alnsworth, they may kill him without thought.

Elyne kicked her mount forward, hoping to catch up with the man within a few minutes, but despite her haste, she could not get close enough to hail him. Finally, she reached the top of the hill overlooking the castle, but Tavish was nowhere to be found. The view was remarkable, and Elyne felt comforted that the castle was still well within sight. Even if she had broken her brother’s command, at least she could plainly see the valley, dotted with tiny white cloud-like sheep.

Elyne turned to the other side of the hill and was greeted with trees, rocks, rolling hills, and a splash of red plaid.

“Tavish!” cried Elyne. “Tavish Grant!”

Her merlin twitched and turned on her arm, but Tavish Grant never slowed. With an irritated snort, Elyne urged her mount forward, pressing after the errant Tavish Grant. Unfortunately, he chose that moment to let his horse run. She chased him over hill and vale, until she finally lost sight of him. With frustration, she pulled up short and decided she must give up the chase.

Elyne dismounted at a stream to give her mount a much-needed break and sank onto a large rock, warm with the sun. She closed her eyes to allow the sun to kiss her cheeks. Though she knew she should not be so far from the castle, she was refreshed by the exercise. The sun was hot, and the river babbled and gurgled a happy tune. How could anything go wrong?

“Good day to ye.”

Elyne jerked her eyes open and about fell off her perch. She regained her composure and her feet, scanning the trees for the man who spoke. Was this friend or foe? Her brother was right; she should never have ridden so far away.

“Who’s there?” demanded Elyne, her hand resting on the knife hanging from her belt.

“’Tis naught but I,” said Tavish, stepping out into the clearing. “What are ye doing here all alone, m’lady? I do find ye in the oddest places.”

“I was trying to find ye to warn ye!” spurted Elyne. “My brother asked that we all stay within the castle valley.”

“Ah, well I should thank ye for yer concern, I warrant.” Tavish stepped closer, his red, black, and green plaid a contrast to the lush green leaves of spring around him. The plaid was wrapped around his waist and thrown over a broad shoulder. His shirt was untied at the top and hung open, revealing the top of a muscular chest. His well-defined legs were bare, as was the Highlander custom, except for a pair of black leather boots.

Growing up in the Highlands surrounded by well-built, muscular men, Elyne was not unaccustomed to the current fashion before her. Yet nobody made her breath catch or her heart stutter the way Tavish did.

“Aye, well, aye, ye should.” Elyne coughed. She should get away from him before he caused her to fall into a fit of apoplexy. “What are ye doing out here?”

“Ne’er been good at sitting still.” Tavish shrugged with a smile. “Heard there’s an abandoned tower around here. An old motte and bailey castle by the sound of it. Thought to take a look.”

“Aye, it should be close,” said Elyne. She had heard Isabelle speak of the old tower that was on Alnsworth lands. “I believe this stream becomes the spring that feeds it.”

“Ah, then if I follow the stream…” Tavish gazed down the streambed, trying to see beyond the bushes and trees. “There now, is that the top of the tower there above that tree?”

Elyne squinted into the distance and could just make a tower spire. “It must be. Isabelle told me the old castle has been abandoned for years.”

“It shall be an enjoyment to explore. But I should see ye home first.”

“I can see myself home, thank ye.”

“A lady ought not t’be riding alone. Ye ne’er know what dangerous men ye may meet.” Tavish gave her a wide grin and wagged his eyebrows up and down.

He meant to tease, but he was more dangerous to her than she cared to show. She needed to divest herself of his company and get back to where she should be. “I am not alone. I have Fred wi’ me.”

“Fred?” Tavish glanced around, confused.

“Winifred, my hawk.” Elyne lifted her wrist to allow Tavish a better look at her merlin falcon.

“Ah, she’s a lovely little thing at that. No doubt she can tear coveys to pieces. Is she a good hunter?”

Elyne had a pang as she always did when talking about her precious Fred. She was more than just a hunter; she was Elyne’s companion. “She is a great hunter.” That was true. “She always brings back her kill.” Also true.

“I should love to see a demonstration sometime.”

That might be a problem. “She is a great hunter, but she has this wee little quirk. She likes to return to her mews. She usually brings me her kill then flies back home.”

Tavish raised his eyebrows. “What a clever little thing. Though I suppose she’s not much use on a hunt.”

“She is good on a hunt,” Elyne protested. “She just doesna care to hunt more than once a day. And she is a fine companion, so please enjoy the rest of yer day exploring the castle.”

“Aye, I warrant Fred here makes a lovely companion, but I’ll be serving as yer guide just the same.”

“But yer trip to the tower?”

“Some other day perhaps.” Tavish shrugged.

Elyne had a pang of guilt. Tavish had not needed rescuing, and now she was preventing him from his excursion. She was doing a poor job of rewarding him for his kindness. “I insist ye continue on yer way and I shall see myself back to the castle.”

“Then I regret I will make an unwelcome guest to escort ye home. Perhaps if I ride behind ye wi’out speaking, ye could try to find it in yer heart to tolerate my presence.” Behind Tavish’s easy smile, steely determination flashed in his eyes.

Elyne knew at once he would not be convinced to let her go. His chivalry made her wish to reciprocate. She had come this far, she could go a little farther to see the abandoned castle. Its tower was within sight after all; it would not take long and then she could return to the valley where, hopefully, no one had noted her absence.

“Follow me if ye will, Master Grant, but I have decided to see this crumbling tower for myself.” Elyne clicked to her horse, who trudged obligingly to where she stood on the boulder so she could mount.

“Yer horse is a well-trained beast,” commented Tavish.

“He is a Campbell,” said Elyne, which naturally explained all. Her brother was very particular in training both men and beasts. No horse in his stables would dream of being ill behaved. David’s luck with sisters was less assured.

Elyne nudged her mount forward and they crossed the stream and followed on the far bank toward the tower. It took longer to pick her way through the thick spring foliage than she had anticipated, but she had come so far, it did not seem sporting to give up.

“Are ye certain, m’lady, that I canna convince ye to return to the castle?” asked a friendly voice behind her, as if he could read her mind.

“Nay,” mumbled Elyne without conviction. She was reconsidering her position when they emerged into a large clearing, the tower rising before them. It was a nice example of a motte and bailey castle. Petite by her standards, but it no doubt had served some feudal English lord and his family well at some earlier time. It was well constructed but had clearly seen wear—the paint mostly worn off the walls, and some of the exterior stones had been removed for other building projects. Still, the tower house itself appeared untouched.

“Aye, now that’s a fair sight.” Tavish jumped down and led his mount through the open castle gate.

“Ye promised me crumbling, but it seems a fair bit better than that.”

“Aye. I wonder that no one had claimed it for their own.”

“’Tis on Alnsworth lands. I believe this old castle was used until the larger one was built.”

“English soil ye say?” Tavish gazed around the courtyard. “I could be persuaded to overlook that minor flaw.”

“’Tis more than a small thing to live under the King of England.” Elyne also dismounted and followed Tavish through the courtyard.

“I care not for politics.” Tavish secured the reins of the horses to the wall.

“Politics ye say? Do ye no’ care to serve yer king?”

Tavish shrugged. “I’ve got naught against any king, as long as he doesna trouble me. Yer brother, Laird Campbell, must have felt similar since he took an English lady to wife.”

“David married Lady Isabelle to take possession of her castle and use it to support the war against England,” defended Elyne.

Tavish walked into the tower to where the great hall once was. “I’ve had the pleasure of making Lady Campbell’s acquaintance. I am certain her holdings were not the only reason he married her.” He turned and gave her a sly smile.

“My brother has faithfully served Scotland in every possible manner,” sputtered Elyne, following Tavish into the hall. How dare this man question her brother’s loyalty?

“Now dinna take offense. I meant no harm. Besides, Laird Campbell is an inspiration for me. I hope to follow his lead.”

“How so?” Elyne folded her arms across her chest, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Tavish walked into the middle of the great hall. The floor timbers had been removed, most likely pillaged for building projects somewhere else. The roof still stood, but Elyne would not make any bets as to its ability to hold out the rain. Though most of the furniture had been removed, a few benches were scattered along the wall.

Tavish turned and cocked his head to one side, as if debating how much to share with her. “It seems a good idea to marry a beautiful English heiress.”

“David dinna wed Isabelle to fill his own coffers.” Elyne stalked up to him with one hand on her hip and the other holding out her falcon. No one challenged David Campbell—especially not before another Campbell. “Why, David has a price on his head due to ridding the English from Ettrick forest.”

Tavish put up his hands in mock surrender. “I cast no insults at the foot of David Campbell. I meant a compliment. I wish to follow his lead.”

“Ye mean to marry a rich woman,” said Elyne in disgust. The thought of him marrying in general, and an Englishwoman in particular, was not agreeable. She had learned to accept David’s bride, but Elyne was sure Isabelle was the exception to the general character of most Englishwomen.

“Aye, ’tis true. I warrant I shall marry, so it might as well be to a woman of means as well as not. What is the shame in that? I’ve got no parents to make a match for me, so I need to act on my own behalf.”

“There are no women o’ yer clan to wed?”

“I’m sure there are. And lovely women they be too. But I have a wandering spirit I fear. I wish to see more o’ this world.”

“And having a rich bride would’na hurt ye none.” Elyne raised an eyebrow, hoping he would feel some sense of chagrin.

“Aye, now ye’ve got the idea.” Tavish gave her a wide smile, utterly devoid of shame.

“Even if it means leaving yer country, being… becoming English.” Elyne spat out the word.

Tavish fingered his plaid kilt. “I doubt anyone will take me for an Englishman. But I have no quarrel with anyone. The war is over, and by my reckoning, none emerged the victor. I dinna see the sword as a means for health and happiness. Peace between our countries is what’s needed. We are, after all, sharing this island. We might as well be good neighbors.”