Amanda Scott (19 page)

“That did occur to me,” Rob admitted. “But I don’t know how to prevent that, Henry, and I’ve promised to be as frank with her as I can be.”

“I see. Then I’ll say no more about it.”

Rob wished he could believe him, but having a pretty clear notion of what Henry was thinking and not at all sure he was wrong, he said nothing.

Chapter 10

I
n the coach, Adela listened as the countess and her hostess chatted about the evening. Wondering if she would join the expedition the next day, she told herself it would serve Lestalric right if she feigned a headache and stayed home.

She knew she would do no such thing, though. Meeting him had made life enjoyable again, and more stimulating to her senses than it had ever been before.

As the coach drew to a halt in front of Sinclair House, the countess said, “I hope you mean to take advantage of Lestalric’s invitation, dearling. The abbey is remarkable, and Lestalric Castle boasts a fine view of the Firth and Leith Harbor.”

“I’m sure it will be an interesting day, madam,” Adela said.

“Then we’re going,” Lady Clendenen said happily. “You are making a stir, my dear. Not in town a full day yet and two eligible suitors. ’Tis an excellent start.”

Embarrassed but knowing she meant only to be kind, Adela said, “I hope you will not put that notion into either of their heads.”

“Oh, but I need not do any such thing, because—”

“Have mercy, Ealga,” Isabella said with a laugh as a gillie flung open the coach door and she prepared to descend. “Her husband is not yet buried! For now, my dear Adela, I suggest you think of nothing but getting a good night’s sleep.”

“Thank you, madam,” Adela said, sincerely grateful for the intervention.

Lady Clendenen said no more about suitors during the short drive to her house or after they went inside. But her beaming smile revealed her delight in Adela’s success, so Adela was glad to retire. The cheerful maidservant helped her prepare for bed, and once under the covers she had thoughts only for the day ahead.

It seemed as if she had no sooner shut her eyes than she was tossing on a windswept sea in a boatful of people she knew one minute who were strangers the next. As larger and larger waves crashed around them, the others vanished one by one until she was all alone in a terrifying, much smaller boat.

A distant wave seemed to grow larger and larger the nearer it came until it loomed as high as a castle’s curtain wall and began to break directly over her, certain to drown her and crush the wee boat she was in. She awoke then, sitting bolt upright and shaking, to find herself alone in the dark bedchamber.

Getting up, she went to the window, pushed the curtain aside, and gazed out at misty moonlight gleaming on the garden below until her pounding heartbeat slowed to normal. Then, returning to bed, she slept soundly until the maid woke her with a cheery demand to know what she wanted to wear for the fine day’s outing.

Not long after Adela and Lady Clendenen had broken their fast in her ladyship’s sunny solar, a gillie informed them that Sir Robert, the countess, and the Earl of Orkney had arrived. They went downstairs to the spacious hall to greet them.

Isabella had chosen a riding dress of russet kersey in a simple style similar to Adela’s moss-green one. But both men looked nearly as grand as they had at court. Henry wore an emerald-green cape trimmed with sable and Lestalric a doublet of purple so dark it looked black until a sunbeam from a nearby window struck it.

His eyes, which had looked golden in the amber glow of candles and firelight, were light brownish hazel by daylight. As he bowed to Lady Clendenen, Adela decided his dark lashes would still be the envy of any woman.

“Where is Etienne?” Lady Clendenen asked after she’d greeted her guests.

“The chevalier sent his apologies for the delay,” Henry said. “He hopes to join us at Holyrood but assures us that if he misses us, he’ll find us along the way.”

Adela, watching Lestalric, saw his lips tighten. Then he turned toward her and smiled. “’Tis a fine, bright morning, is it not?”

She agreed, and they did not tarry but went right outside, where they found their horses awaiting them, plus an escort of six men-at-arms that Henry had provided. The morning was bright but chilly, and Adela was glad the snug-fitting tunic she wore over her full skirts would keep her warm.

The horse her hostess had provided for her was a fine gray gelding bearing the plain man’s saddle that Adela and her sisters preferred. Isabella’s saddle was similar, because both women rode astride. Macleod had taught all his daughters to ride, and Adela had begun riding astride when she learned to walk.

In contrast, Lady Clendenen’s liver-colored mare sported a large, boxy, sheepskin-lined lady’s saddle. “My Gussy is a good, trustworthy lass, and her gait is as smooth as a mare’s can be,” she said, eyeing the flat leather saddles with strong disapproval. “But I want more than a mane and a rein to cling to when I ride.”

Lestalric rode a spirited bay with dark mane and stockings, and Henry a black.

Adela soon discovered that Lady Clendenen’s notion of riding was more like a stately royal progress than any-thing akin to exercise for horse or rider. But the public road was no place for exercise, and it was only a short ride to the abbey.

“Do you know the origin of the name Holyrood?” Henry asked Adela.

“It relates to the cross on which Christ died, does it not?”

“Aye, but David I, who built the abbey, named it to honor a piece of the Holy Rood contained in a small, ebony-inlaid, golden casket that his mother brought to Scotland when she married his father. ’Twas called the Black Rood of Scotland, and it became the most sacred of our nation’s emblems.”

“Until it was snatched from David II by his English captors at the battle of Neville’s Cross,” Lestalric said lightly as they rode into the abbey kirkyard.

Henry chuckled. “One does wonder why any sensible King of Scots would carry so valued a relic into battle.”

The imposing abbey façade with its deeply recessed doorway loomed ahead of them. On its north side, its great square tower stretched skyward.

“It’s beautiful,” Adela said, certain it was the largest kirk she’d ever seen.

“Would you like to see the interior?” Lestalric asked.

She hesitated, wondering if he thought they could talk privately there. It did not seem a proper place for it if he truly did mean to confide in her.

Lady Clendenen settled the matter, saying indignantly, “Mercy, sir, would you have us dismount when we’ve just got settled?”

“’Tis too splendid a morning to waste indoors,” Isabella said. “There are at least two fine stretches of country on the track to Lestalric and Leith village.”

Lestalric guided his horse alongside Adela’s as they rode along the rounded arcade on the kirkyard’s north wall.

She said, “Is Leith where your home lies?”

“The castle sits yonder on that hilltop, a mile north of the abbey,” he said with a smile. “Leith village lies another mile beyond.”

“Aye, and ’tis a quaint place,” Henry said. “How much of Lestalric do you want to see today, Rob? As I recall, it extends east from Leith to Portobello.”

Lestalric protested that he had no intention of dragging everyone over the whole estate, but Lady Clendenen looked perplexed. “Does the land beyond the abbey not belong to the Kirk? I thought they owned even the village of Leith.”

Henry said, “They don’t own it, but they draw their rents from North Leith, the portion across the river. The fishermen there provide fish for the Kirk’s many fast days and maintain the abbey’s fishing boats and other vessels. South Leith and the land east of it comprise the barony of Lestalric.”

Isabella said curiously, “Other vessels?”

Lestalric chuckled. “The abbot’s ferry was my favorite. I warrant it’s still the only practical way to get from this side of the river to North Leith.”

“Aye,” Henry said with a grimace. “The abbot makes a fine living from that ferry, too, because Edinburgh’s only safe harbor is the one at North Leith. All merchants’ ships and others, including mine, harbor there.”

Isabella declaring that she thought Adela had seen enough of the abbey for one day, they rode through the gates and turned north. In minutes they were in open country, and soon the castle they sought loomed ahead on a craggy outcropping that overlooked a long oval loch just east of it.

Tilled fields, lush woodland, and open moors spread in every direction. Adela sighed with pleasure at the sight.

“Shall we let these beasts stretch their legs, mayhap as far as the woods hugging the base of the outcropping?” Lestalric murmured beside her.

She glanced at him hopefully. “Dare we? Won’t they object?”

“I doubt it,” he said. “Henry is enjoying himself, and he knows the way. With luck, the countess will keep her ladyship entertained as they plod along.”

She glanced back to find the countess watching her as she chatted with Henry and Lady Clendenen. When their eyes met, Isabella nodded.

Rob saw the exchange and heaped blessings on the countess. He could do nothing to slow the pace of the group as a whole, but if he had not misread the signs, Isabella would exert herself as much as Henry would to let him try to explain himself to Adela. He’d feared at any moment to see de Gredin bearing down on them, but they’d seen no sign of him yet, and Rob hoped he would stay away.

Accordingly, when Adela turned back to him with her eyes shining and her smooth cheeks pink from the chilly fresh air, he gave his horse a touch of spur. As the bay increased its pace, Adela’s gray kept up easily. When she leaned forward, clearly intending to push ahead of him, he let her extend her lead for a minute or two before urging the bay to catch up with her.

The track was firm, the footing for the horses excellent, and he soon saw that her skill matched that of any other horsewoman he knew. He had expected no less, for he had seen two of her sisters ride and knew both to be fine horsewomen, too.

He exerted himself then, thundering after her to let the horses decide the race. When his pulled ahead, he grinned at her and slowed again, delighted to see her smile as she reined in beside him. The woods still lay some distance ahead.

“May we talk now, sir?” she asked, sobering.

He nearly told her to keep smiling, that she possessed a beautiful, warm smile that she ought to share often. But memory of her condemnation of fulsome compliments the previous night stopped the words before they left his tongue. Instead he said, “I am willing to talk, but do not be surprised if that fellow de Gredin should suddenly pop up from behind a bush to interrupt us.”

“He is a kind, charming man,” she said, giving him a look. Disconcertingly, she added, “I must remind myself of that often, because if I do not, I tend to think of
him
as the one who deceived me. And that is unfair, as
he
did nothing of the sort.”

He gave her a look of his own then and saw her lips twitch, which nearly undid him. He had not suspected that she even had a sense of humor, let alone that it could surface at such a time. Before, she had stirred only a strong desire in him to protect her and another, more intense but elusive emotion that he had not defined.

There was lust, of course. He could not deny that, not after his body had responded instantly and so unexpectedly to her nearness in the chapel and again the first time he’d walked with her at the royal court. It fairly hummed now in simple enjoyment of being alone with her. But there was more, a new and different hunger that he wanted to explore.

First, he had to respond sensibly to her questions and still leave his honor and his oath to the Order intact. Hoping he sounded only as if he were remembering his promise to be frank, he said, “What would you like to know?”

“First, about Einar. You admitted that he is your kinsman, and he did me a significant service. I want to know what has become of him.”

“He has risen above his proper station in life,” Rob said, suddenly fearful of what she would say when he told her the truth but knowing he had to tell her. It was not a matter of trusting her not to tell anyone else, the cynical voice in his mind muttered. She could tell the world if she chose. What mattered was what she would think of the choice he had made and the fact that he had deceived her.

He wanted to trust her to understand what he had done and to learn to trust him again despite his deception, because she had touched him as no one had before. She answered that unexpected, indefinable hunger in him that he had forgotten he could feel until their meeting on Roslin’s ramparts had brought it to life again.

She remained silent, regarding him soberly.

He had the distinct impression that had she been standing, instead of on horseback, she would have tapped her foot with impatience. He met her gaze.

“Do you mean to explain that odd remark about Einar, sir?”

He sighed. “I’ve imagined this moment, my lady, over and over. But in my imagining, I am always more adept at explaining myself.”

“You need only speak the truth,” she said. “Where is he?”

“He stands—that is, he sits astride the horse next to yours.”

Wide-eyed, she gaped at him but recovered swiftly. “What are you saying?” she demanded. “Do you take me for a dafty? You cannot mean
you
are
he
!”

“That is exactly what I mean.”

“But how can you be? Einar Logan is a simple man-at-arms.”

“Nay, lass, a serving knight,” Rob said with a wry smile. “’Tis a small difference, I grant you, but an important one. It was a nonetheless humbling experience, but in the beginning, I thought I needed humbling.”

“Why?”

“Because, despite all my training, I’d let them goad me into losing my temper. It was always unpredictable, but I thought I’d mastered it.”

“Have you mastered it now?”

“I hope so.”

“And you have risen to be captain of Hugo’s fighting tail now.”

He smiled. “Aye, I rose quickly. I’m proud of that.”

She did not respond to his smile. Her cheeks and eyes were brighter than ever. “You are very glib, sir,” she said. “But I simply don’t believe you. Einar Logan is a rough Borderer who speaks like a ruffian. I’ve heard him.”