Authors: Patricia Potter
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Scottish
Beloved Stranger (16 page)
AUDRA was asleep when Kimbra reached the cot-tage. The fire cast flickering shadows over the room. The door to the other room was closed.
She hesitated, then looked in. He looked asleep on the bed.
She closed the door quickly, remembering how his lips had felt against hers, how wildly she had responded. Then the way she had literally run from him.
She lit a candle from the fire and put it into a lantern, then climbed the ladder up to the loft. She looked under the pallet that had been available to Will’s friends and found the crest and ring she’d hidden there. She left the ring and fingered the jeweled crest. She had but two clues to his identity. The crest. And the woman he mentioned in his dreams.
Who was Maggie? What was she to him?
And the crest? A shield, a helmet, a tower all encased in jewels. And words she could not read. Yet. Were they clues to his family? She wished once again that she could read. Never had it seemed so important.
Give it to him.
Then she would have nothing. He would leave, find his family and probably wealth, and forget all about his promises. She clutched it in her hand. Honor fought with survival.
His past against her daughter’s future.
She hid it back under the pallet. He could not have it on him now, in any event. If it were to be found, it would be a sure death warrant.
But she knew she was only justifying the unjustifiable.
Kimbra climbed down, her hand still warm from the crest, and laid down next to Audra. Audra deserved a life free from fear, from hunger.
The Scot deserved his heritage.
It was the devil’s own choice.
And she had no idea how she was going to make it.
K
IMBRA rose after yet another restless night. All her doubts and fears nagged at her. She kept seeing the jeweled crest that had fastened the Scot’s plaid and wondered whether she had the right to withhold it from him.
IMBRA rose after yet another restless night. All her doubts and fears nagged at her. She kept seeing the jeweled crest that had fastened the Scot’s plaid and wondered whether she had the right to withhold it from him.
Maggie.
No doubt a highborn lady with manners and wealth. Yet
Maggie
had an earthy, warm sound to it.
No doubt a highborn lady with manners and wealth. Yet
Maggie
had an earthy, warm sound to it.
The Scot puzzled her. She had served nobles, and none had the quiet courtesy he did. Her mother had been destroyed by the son of an earl and had taught her to be wary of anyone of noble blood.
And yet the Scot was uncommonly gentle and patient with Audra and respectful always of her. Had her father been that way until he wanted to rid himself of someone not his equal?
Bear barked, and she went outside.
Jane, leaning on a walking stick, approached.
Audra ran toward her.
Jane leaned down and gave her a big hug. “I missed my lovey,” she said.
Kimbra followed her daughter to Jane and greeted her. “’Tis good to see you. You’ve come for more bay leaves?”
“Aye, and to have a few words with ye.” She glanced down at Audra, then back to Kimbra.
Kimbra understood. “Can you go and feed Bess and Magnus? Then you can help me get Jane some fresh bread and honey.”
Audra regarded them both somberly, as if she knew something of importance was to be said when she was gone. Then she turned and walked toward the stable.
“She’s a good child,” Jane said.
“Aye, she is.”
Jane shifted on her feet, then blurted out some words. “There is talk of you and a soldier.”
“And what is being said?”
“That he is a stranger, and you are disgracing your husband’s name.”
“Could Cedric Charlton be one of the talkers?”
“Aye, but he has others talking as well.”
“The Charlton gave me permission to care for him.”
“The talk is he is well enough to leave.”
“Nay,” she said, probably louder than necessary. “He is not.”
“I just thought ye should know. Mayhap if I stayed with ye and help cared for him . . .”
“That is a generous offer,” Kimbra said, “but he will be leaving soon.”
Jane’s gaze did not leave hers. “The talk is he is a Howard.”
“Aye, but he’s been away for years. I think he has little connection with the family.”
Jane continued to stand there, and Kimbra realized she wanted to see the soldier in question.
Kimbra knew Jane would never betray her, and better now than ever to discover whether her Scot could pass as an Englishman.
“Come inside and see for yourself,” she said.
Jane hesitated as if she realized her thoughts were entirely too clear. Jane had always been blunt. Honest. And protective of those she loved.
Kimbra went to the door dividing the two rooms. Once the older woman was settled into a chair, Kimbra knocked twice at the door, then went into the other room.
The Scot sat on the side of the bed.
“My friend Jane Carey is here,” she said. “Jane looks after Audra when I cannot. She wants to meet you.”
He raised an eyebrow in question.
“You
are
Robert Howard,” she said softly.
are
Robert Howard,” she said softly.
He nodded as he ran his hand through his thick auburn hair, as if trying to tame the untamable. “I
am
Robert Howard,” he agreed.
am
Robert Howard,” he agreed.
“She may ask many questions.”
“I will try to answer them.”
She prayed to Mary in Heaven that he was good at it.
She went back to the door. “Jane, come in.”
In the seconds it took Jane to reach the door, the Scot was in bed, though he had his bandaged arm out from under the covers. There had not been time to prepare, and yet in those few seconds he managed to look truly ill.
He
was
ill, she reminded herself. But there was something about his will and determination that made him seem far stronger in her mind.
was
ill, she reminded herself. But there was something about his will and determination that made him seem far stronger in her mind.
Now she tried to see him through Jane’s eyes.
“Jane,” she said to him, “has offered to help care for you. Jane, this is Robert Howard.”
He focused on Jane and gave her the slow smile that always made Kimbra’s heart shift.
“That is very kind of you,” he said.
Kimbra looked at Jane who was staring down at the Scot with astonishment. Her cheeks went pink, then her stern lips stretched into a smile.
“’Tis not kind at all. Kimbra works far too hard and gives too much to everyone.”
The effort he’d made earlier to walk was thankfully showing. His cheeks were flushed, shadows around his eyes were deep, and his face looked drawn.
Embarrassed by the praise, Kimbra took a step back. “His leg was sorely injured, and his ribs bruised, along with other wounds. He also had a terrible blow to his head.”
“Kimbra knows more about herbs than anyone about here,” Jane said.
“I owe her my life,” he said.
“Then you owe her to leave,” Jane said in her direct way. “She is being hurt by gossip.”
“I will leave immediately.”
“No,” Kimbra said. “I worked too hard to save him. He cannot leave until he is well enough.” She directed her reply to Jane.
“The Charlton would welcome another soldier,” Jane said. “He could stay there.”
“He knows naught of me,” the Scot said. “Why would he take me in?”
“He is always in need of a fighting man. Ye have enough wounds to prove ye are that.” Jane’s eyes roamed over his bandaged arm.
The Scot’s eyes turned toward Kimbra, then shifted back to Jane. “I will leave here tomorrow.”
Kimbra felt a squeezing hurt. He seemed far too willing to leave and take up arms again.
She told herself it was for the best. Once he left, no blame could come to her and Audra if anyone discovered he was a Scot. He would be under another’s roof, and she would still have the crest.
The cottage would seem empty again. A surge of loneliness, of loss, swept over her with unexpected strength and poignancy.
But it was Audra who voiced her dismay. “I do not want you to go,” she said.
Kimbra turned around to see her daughter standing in the door, her mouth puckered in unusual defiance.
“I have to go soon, anyway, Miss Audra,” the Scot answered. “I have imposed on you and your mother far too long. I am eating your food and taking your father’s clothing, and using your room.”
“Bear wants you to stay,” Audra persisted.
Jane looked from Audra to the Scot with disbelief, and Kimbra suspected what she was thinking.
Audra had always been an obedient child and had been more at ease with animals than people. Part of it had been Kimbra’s doing. She had protected her daughter, never wanting her to know the fear she and her mother had once known. Now her daughter was protecting a stranger with the same passion she had for Magnus and Bess and Bear.
“I thank you and Bear,” the Scot said in a voice soft with longing. “But it is time for me to go.” He looked at Jane. “You can tell those who have interest in my whereabouts that I will move to the peel tower if the Charlton will permit it.”
Jane looked both relieved and puzzled. Kimbra feared that though the Scot had caught some of the border inflection, he was far more well spoken than most.
“Come in the other room and have some bread and honey,” Kimbra invited Jane. “I have your bay leaves ready as well.”
As Jane went out the door, Kimbra turned and glanced back at the Scot. She’d never seen such stark loneliness before. But as he saw her glance, his expression changed to blankness, and she wondered whether she had seen it at all or whether it had merely been a figment of her imagination.
Once in the kitchen, Jane turned to her. “Ye did not tell me how handsome he was.”
“I have not really noticed,” Kimbra lied.
“Or how well spoken.”
“I think he was the bastard son of one of the nobles,” she said. Which would, she hoped, explain why the Howards wouldn’t know about him. “He does not talk much.”
“Audra is much taken with him.”
“Probably because Bear is,” she said.
“I see why Cedric is not happy with his presence.”
“I worry he will appear any minute,” Kimbra confessed.
“Mayhap ye should think about his suit.”
A shudder ran through her body. “Never. Audra does not like him, and he is cruel to his animals. You get along well enough without a husband.”
“I had one fer many years.”
“Do you still miss him?”
“Aye. He was a rough sort, but he cared for me in his way. He stayed though I had no children.”
Kimbra knew how Jane’s childlessness had always hurt her. Jane had transferred her love to all the children in the village and beyond.
“Is Cedric still at the peel tower?”
“The Charlton has been pressed to send out men to search for Scots. The king wants no more uprisings and has posted a high bounty. Since Will died, Cedric is trying to take his place as Thomas Charlton’s favorite. It would be a fine achievement if he could produce a Scot noble for the crown.”
Kimbra wondered whether Jane suspected something and was giving her a subtle warning. Yet there was usually nothing subtle about Jane.
“I am just grateful he’s busy elsewhere.”
Jane ate the bread and honey contentedly. Kimbra added a hunk of cheese and a cup of ale to accompany it, and Jane took her time eating, obviously happy with the rare companionship.
Kimbra did not begrudge it, though her heart had pounded ever since Jane’s latest revelation about a bounty. The Scot was right in leaving, but now he could not go to the peel tower.
Though it would break her heart, she would loan him Magnus and urge him to hurry over the border. If he wore Will’s clothing, it was unlikely he would be stopped.
Loan?
Most likely it would not be a loan at all, but a gift. He would find his way, and someone would recognize him, and he would forget about a cottage on the border and a widow.
That eased her guilt in keeping the brooch. It would be little repayment for loss of the hobbler.
Jane finally left, and Kimbra went into the Scot’s room. He was sitting up.
“You cannot go to the peel tower,” she said. “They are hunting for Scots. There is a bounty for any who are found.”
“You taught me to blend in.”
“A small mistake, and they will discover you. I think Jane is a little suspicious, but she will not say anything.”
“The more important then that I leave.”
“You cannot walk far.”
“I will rest often.”
“They are combing the border area.”
“I will not put you in any more danger.”
“You can take Magnus.”
He stared at her. “You cannot mean that. You—and Audra—love that horse.”
“She will agree with me.”
“I will not,” he said.
“You will put us in far more danger by staying here or going to the peel tower,” she said. “Having Magnus would not save our lives. You taking him will.”
It was the one argument she thought would work with this man.
She saw the torture in his eyes, then surrender. “I will get him back to you. I swear it.”
She remembered when a man had sworn love to her mother, only to betray her. Men with power made their own rules. She’d seen Thomas Charlton do it. Even her husband.
But she only nodded.
“Tonight,” she said. “After dark. I can tell you how best to reach the border.”
She left him then. She had made her decision. She would not rethink it, or question it or regret it. But a huge lump was in her throat, and she didn’t think it would go away.
T
HE day crawled along. He did not want to leave this place of comfort, of peace, of belonging.
Yet he had no choice. He could no longer risk their lives by staying here, and he wasn’t well enough to walk long distances. His last attempt proved that.
He wondered whether he should save his strength by staying still, or try to build it by moving around.
He finally rose and used the crutch. He again felt the weakness in his left arm. A scar ran along the upper length of it, and he wondered how it had been inflicted. Did it have anything to do with the flashes of violence, of panic, of an emotion so heavy he could hardly bear it?
Family. Something to do with family.
Family. Something to do with family.
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