Fraser 02 - Highland Quest (11 page)

Fallon watched his retreat, more confused than ever.

“There you are,” Bryce shouted. “It is time to leave.”

As she watched Bryce approach, her heart plummeted. He was determined to send her away and she had no option but to comply with his wishes.

“The horses are saddled and ready. We have a long ride so best we be on our way.” He placed his hand in the small of her back and pressed lightly. “We must be off.”

“Aye. We would not want you to be away from the camp and the war for too long.” She didn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice as she moved toward the horses, then mounted her palfrey.

As Bryce secured a sack of provisions on the back of his saddle, she silently prayed he would reconsider and allow her to stay. But she knew once he’d made up his mind to something there was little or no chance of swaying him. It was perhaps the one trait she found infuriating.

Robert approached and stood beside her. “I’m grateful to you for risking your life to warn me of the proposed attacked. For a woman to make the journey on her own shows a great measure of bravery. I also offer my condolences. Your uncle was a true hero. All of Scotland is indebted to him as well.” His hand rested on her horse’s neck. “You’ll be safe in Turnberry. I’d trust my friend Fergus with my life. He and his wife will treat you well.”

“I’m grateful to you, Your Majesty.” She spoke to Robert, but her eyes remained on Bryce as he climbed atop his destrier out of earshot.

“Dinna
fash
over young Fraser. He may be a wee bit headstrong and unreasonable at times, but he is a fearless warrior and invaluable to the cause. Alasdair will guard his back.”

The ball of emotion rising in Fallon’s throat made it impossible to speak. She could not help wondering if they would be forever parted. The premonition she’d had at her uncle’s croft flashed in her mind. She’d seen Bryce’s death. If only she could convince him to stay with her when they reached the village and not venture into battle.

“Are you ready?” Bryce rode up beside her.

Her heart raced at the sight of him. He sat proud atop a black destrier, his back poker straight, his eyes flashing, and his chin held high.

Bryce was magnificent. No wonder she found him impossible to resist. A breeze ruffled his shoulder-length hair and she caught his intoxicating scent. Her body reacted immediately, with longing so strong, she could hardly stand it. “Best we depart. The sooner we reach our destination, the better.” She dug her heels into the horse’s flank, urging the animal into a trot.

Bryce caught up and grabbed the bridle of her palfrey, slowing the horse. “You’ll run the beast into the ground at this speed. That or she’ll stumble and break a leg on this uneven path. I know you are anxious to reach Turnberry, but we need to pace ourselves.”

“This wasn’t my idea. You are the one sending me away.” She bit back a sob and tears ran down her cheeks. With a sweep of her hand, she brushed them away. She wanted Bryce to stay with her by choice, not out of pity.

He reined in his horse, and tugged on the palfrey’s bridle again, this time bringing both animals to a halt. He quickly dismounted and wrapped his large hands around her waist. Before she could protest, he lifted her from the saddle.

Fallon’s breath lodged in her throat as Bryce let her body slide down the broad plain of his chest. Her knees buckled the second her feet touched the ground, and she inhaled sharply when he enveloped her in his arms.

“I dinna want to push you away. I care for you, Fallon, but I canna rest until you’re safe.” He brushed her ear with a kiss.

The rasp in his voice and the caress of warm, moist breath against her skin sent a shiver of desire skittering down her spine. She pulled away, and turned her back to him. “You have an odd way of showing you care.” She stared into the woods, all the while hoping he’d make a move and declare his love.

“This war with England is bigger than both of us. In a few days, we will confront Aymer de Valance, and I have no idea the outcome.”

“You’re going to die in battle.” Unable to contain herself any longer, she threw herself into his arms and sobbed, soaking the front of his tunic.

Bryce pried her away and tucked his finger under her chin. “All men die. To give your life on the battlefield, fighting for something you believe in, is what a warrior hopes for.”

She raised her head with an imploring gaze. “You must listen to me. I witnessed your demise in a vision. Please dinna go with Robert.” Her nails dug into his arms.

“I set no store in dreams.” He kissed her brow. “You’re mistaken. I will be fine.”

“Dinna make light of this. I am never mistaken. In my vision, you were walking toward a red-haired woman, a shroud wrapped about your head and body—an omen of death.” She dragged her palm across damp cheeks.

“I’ve heard those legends since I was a lad and never believed them to be true.”

“I saw the corpse candles lighting the path to your grave and heard the banshee lamenting. Dinna try to discount my vision, Bryce Fraser. This is going to happen. You will die at the hand of your enemy. If not in this next battle, soon after. I know this to be true.”

Bryce held her against his chest. “I promise to be careful and will try and keep my head. Robert needs me . . . Scotland needs me.”

“I need you.” She nibbled on her lower lip to stop it from quivering.

“You’re an amazing woman and deserve more than I can offer. I want you to be happy, Fallon. Some day, you’ll forgive me and meet someone who will stay by your side. Love and marriage are not in my future, but when the right man comes along, you will make a wonderful wife and mother.”

“I dinna think I will ever marry.” She sniffled.

“You will,
Leannan
, and when you do, you will be very happy and forget the heartache from the past. I dinna have to possess your gift of second sight to know this to be true.”

Bryce kissed her brow then lifted her into the saddle. “Best we are on our way, before I forget myself and take you here, on a bed of moss.” He stroked his finger across the back of her hand, then moved to his horse and mounted quickly.

The thought of making love to Bryce again caused her blood to heat and her heart to hammer in her chest. Nothing would make her happier, but she’d not beg for any man’s affection. Bryce had made it clear he was dedicated to the cause. If what Alasdair alluded to was true, he also harbored a painful secret from his past, one that she suspected made it impossible for him to fall in love.

They finished the last hour of their journey in silence and relief washed over her when they finally reached the outskirts of the village.

Bryce slowed his mount and leaned in the saddle toward her. “We need to be as discrete as possible. You never know who might be lurking in the shadows. I will escort you to the inn and make the arrangement before I leave. The less attention we draw the better.”

They approached The Skull and Bucket from the back. Bryce dismounted and helped her from her horse. “I’ll go inside and make sure everything is safe. Once I’ve spoken to Fergus, I’ll usher you in.” He kissed the tip of her nose and disappeared into the shadows.

Heart pounding, she huddled near some barrels, waiting for the signal from Bryce. Fear tugged at her gut. What if someone recognized him and he were arrested?

“Fallon.” Bryce whispered her name and motioned with a wave of his hand for her to join him. “Fergus and Maeve are waiting for you inside.” When she moved past him, he caught her arm, enveloped her in a tight embrace, and kissed her with a passion that made her chest ache and the parting more difficult. “I willna forget you, Fallon, or our time together. I will carry you with me always. Here.” He thumped his breast above his heart and entered the inn.

Chapter 11

“Come with me and I’ll show you to your room. After raising six sons, having a lass around will be quite a pleasure. I prayed for a daughter, but the Almighty blessed me with lads.” Maeve prattled on cheerfully as she led Fallon down a narrow hall. She halted before a large oak door and slid the key into the lock. “The room is not grand, but the mattress is stuffed with fresh straw, and there is a brazier to take off the morning chill.”

Maeve lit several tallow candles, brightening their surroundings. Fresh rushes covered the floor and a bouquet of heather occupied the center of a small wooden table.

Fallon inhaled deeply. The sweet floral fragrance reminded her of the lowland moors outside the walls of Laird Scott’s castle. Many a day she’d wandered those fields, picking the delicate blossoms and other assorted wild flowers to use in her healing potions or to scent her bathwater.

She missed her life at Buccleuch. Laird and Lady Scott had accepted her into their home and always made her feel welcome. Now that the last of her family were gone, mayhap she’d return to their stronghold and resume her duties as the clan healer.

“I hope the accommodations meet with your approval.” Maeve smiled and touched her arm.

“Aye. I appreciate your kindness, and hope my presence willna cause you any trouble.” Fallon stepped deeper into the room.

“Dinna be foolish. Having you here is a pleasure, my dear.” Maeve took Fallon’s hand, gave it a reassuring pat, then released it again. “Fergus and I are happy to help. As soon as he read the missive from King Robert, he saw the storage room converted into a chamber. My husband is always ready to do what he can for the cause.” Maeve crossed to the window then threw open the wooden shutters. “I hope you will be comfortable.”

“Everything is wonderful. This chamber is similar to the one I have at the Scott’s keep. My mother . . .” She paused and crossed herself. “God rest her soul, was a distant kin of Lady Scott. Mam died when I was ten, and Da sent me to foster at Buccleuch before he went off to battle the English.”

“Are you planning to go back?” Maeve’s expression grew sullen.

“It was my home for more than eight summers. Now that my uncle and aunt are both gone, there is no reason for me to go back to Galloway. There is naught to keep me from returning to the borderlands.”

“What about Bryce? Will you not wait here for him to return for you? A good man is a powerful motivator. You were lucky to find each other.”

“I doubt Bryce will come back for me.” Fallon lowered her eyes and gazed at the floor. Even though she wished he would.

“To leave before you’ve had a chance to test the mettle of your relationship would be a shame. Mayhap you should wait to see if he returns before you decide.”

“There is no relationship,” Fallon answered, more abruptly than she’d intended.

“Given the way Bryce looks at you, I’d say you were wrong. In fact, I’m surprised you’re not wed and expecting your first bairn.”

“We haven’t known each other very long, and the times we’ve spent together have been brief.”

“Fergus and I met at a Samhain festival, and spoke our vows after only a sennight. Eachan, my oldest son, came along nine months later.” Maeve blushed.

Maeve’s comment gave Fallon pause for thought. She absently slid her hand over her belly and nibbled on her bottom lip. After the night she and Bryce spent in the cave, she could very well be breeding. Heat rose in her cheeks. Did she carry his babe?

“Bryce has no interest in a wife and family. He is married to the cause, and his home is wherever adventure takes him.”

Maeve touched Fallon’s forearm. “I find that hard to believe. He may claim no interest, but his actions speak louder. I only spent a short time with the man, but his concern for you and your safety was evident.”

“I dinna doubt he cares about my welfare, but he is not prepared to give up his quest to save Scotland or to make a name for himself as a warrior,” Fallon replied softly.

“What drives a man can be difficult to understand. In his youth, Fergus was very much like Bryce. He rode with William Wallace and thought only of the cause. That was until he suffered an injury at Sterling. He took an arrow to the leg and was very lucky he dinna lose the limb. His recovery was slow and he could no longer fight, but every time the Scots confront the English, my husband longs to join them.”

“At least he’s here with you now, and safe,” Fallon pointed out.

“Aye, but living with a brooding warrior, a man who once lived to do battle, can be a challenge. Fergus still insists on doing his part, so he makes certain supporters of the Bruce reach their destinations and ensures his enemies are diverted. If his efforts are ever discovered, he’ll be hanged. To offer aid to the Bruce is considered a treasonable offence in Longshanks’ eyes.”

Fallon wandered to the window and peered into the village. “I know all about King Edward’s unjust laws. They are the reason my uncle was hanged. We’re in Scotland, not England. I don’t understand how this travesty of justice is allowed to take place.”

“Aye, we’re in Scotland, but the country has been under the Saxon thumb for many summers. Edward believes he is sovereign of all he desires, and he dinna gain the name ‘Hammer of the Scots’ for nothing. And we must not forget about clans like the MacDougalls. The men who supported John Comyn’s claim on the throne and oppose the Bruce are as dangerous. A country divided is an easy target for tyrants like Longshanks.”

Painfully aware of the MacDougall’s connection to the English crown and their oppressive power over the Scottish people, Fallon shuddered at the mention of the clan name. “Did Bryce tell you that I escaped from Dungal and he may be looking for me? Mayhap I should leave before you and Fergus are punished for harboring a fugitive.”

“Dinna fash over what might happen.” Maeve wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You are welcome to stay here until Bryce comes for you. He will return. I can feel it in these old bones.”

“I hope you’re right.” Fallon was unable to hide the skepticism in her voice. “But, I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or your husband because of me.”

Maeve reached into the linen pocket attached to her skirt, pulled out a folded scrap plaid, then handed it to Fallon. “I almost forgot. Bryce asked me to give this to you. He also bid me pass along a message. He said he willna rest easy until this is in its rightful place.” She rubbed her chin. “I thought his words a bit strange.”

Fallon held the item in her hand and hesitated before unfurling the corners of the fabric. She gasped when the contents were revealed. Fighting back tears, and the sudden lump in her throat, she picked up the leather thong and let the emerald-encrusted star dangle in the air.

“How lovely.” Maeve touched the talisman and smiled. “Bryce obviously cherishes you very much to give you such a fine gift.”

“The pendant belonged to my mam. Passed down from mother to daughter for generations, she believed the star was blessed and held great power. She presented this to me on her deathbed. With her last breath, she bid me wear it for protection.” Fallon clutched the treasure to her breast. “I asked Bryce to carry it with him into battle.”

“He clearly values your safety more than his own. By wearing the talisman, you’ll show your love and support. If the power is as strong as you claim, it will guard you both with the magic binding you together.”

Fallon nodded and fastened the strand of leather around her neck. “I fear he wishes to sever any ties we share, not preserve them.” She stroked the star with her fingertips.

“I choose to believe in the power of love.” Maeve moved toward the door. “I must prepare the evening meal and will call you when the food is ready. In the meantime, think about what I’ve said, but try to get some rest.”

“Thank you again for your kindness, Maeve. I promise not to outstay my welcome.”

“You will remain with us as long as necessary.” Maeve stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her.

Fallon heaved a weary sigh. After spending the night in Bryce’s arms, then the journey to Turnberry, she was physically and emotionally drained. She lowered herself onto the mattress and closed her eyes. She’d rest, but wasn’t certain she’d sleep.

Dressed in a quilted linen gambeson beneath a chainmail tunic, Bryce’s powerful, trew-clad legs straddled his black destrier. He pressed his booted heels into the horse’s flanks, urging him forward as he led a small garrison of warriors into a thick, dense fog.

Despite his inability to see more than a few feet ahead, Bryce continued his search for the enemy. He wove his way along the narrow forest paths, completely unaware that his men dropped off one by one. He soon rode alone. When he came to a stream, he reined in his mount, startled by the wailing of an old hag with stringy red hair as she beat a shroud against a rock.

Bryce dismounted and stormed toward the woman. “Who are you, and why do you screech as if in pain?” He clasped her shoulder, spun her around, and inhaled sharply when he stared into the face of Dungal MacDougall. The blackguard carried a broadsword and his lips curled in a sinister grin.

“Prepare to die.” Dungal forced Bryce to kneel before him. He raised the blade above his head then brought it down in a sweeping motion.

“Bryce!”

Fallon shot up in bed, her hand clutching her throat. Perspiration beaded her brow. Her heart clamored in her chest like a beast was trying to claw its way out. Drawing a simple breath was impossible. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to regain her composure.

Her attempt to reassure herself fell short. She’d foreseen Bryce’s death before, but each time the images became more vivid. She heaved a deep sigh. There was no way she could warn him, and even if she could get him to listen, he’d not change his mind about joining the Bruce in battle.

“Are you ailing, lass?” A male voice, followed by a firm rap on the door, caught her attention.

“I’m fine.” Fallon dropped her legs over the side of the bed and padded across the room. She opened the door a crack and smiled at Fergus.

“What’s all the
palver
about?” he asked. “I heard your outcry clear into the inn.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you reason for alarm. I dozed off and must have called out in my sleep.”

“Best you temper your shouting. You never know who might hear, or what they may think.” The corner of Fergus’ lip curled from a frown to a pleasant grin. “Fortunately, no harm was done. Maeve prepared a leg of venison and some turnips for the evening meal. Are you hungry?”

As if answering the question on her behalf, Fallon’s stomach growled. “Aye, it has been a while since I had anything to eat. I would welcome a hot meal. Allow me a few minutes to freshen up then I will join you in the kitchen.”

Fergus inclined his head. “Make haste. My wife doesna like to be kept waiting. I’d rather face an angry bear than to endure Maeve’s ire when her meal grows cold.”

Fallon closed the door then moved toward a small basin of water she’d spotted on the table beside the bed. She brushed her hair and straightened her gown before going in search of her hosts.

“Did you rest well?” Maeve gave the contents of an iron pot another stir then wiped her hands on her apron.

“I managed to close my eyes. Can I help?” Fallon paused in the center of the kitchen and glanced around. A platter of roasted meat sat on a shelf by the hearth, the aroma causing her stomach to gurgle in response.

“Nay. The food is ready. Sit yourself down.” Maeve pointed to a wooden table with four mismatched chairs.

“Good, I’m starving.” Fergus rubbed his belly and laughed. He sat and motioned for Fallon to take the seat beside him. “Join me, lass, so Maeve can serve the meal.”

“I canna stay here unless I am allowed to earn my keep. My proficiency in the kitchen may be limited, but I had no complaints about the fare I served my uncle. I am, however, skilled in the garden and noticed yours was overgrown with weeds. Mayhap I can be of assistance there as well.”

“I’ll simply not allow you to work. You’re our guest.” Maeve’s stern tone and determined stare bespoke her reluctance to bend.

“Then I must leave.” Fallon was equally stubborn in her beliefs.

“Let the lass help you, Maeve. You’re not so young anymore and often mentioned the chores have become a burden at times.”

Maeve’s brows knit together and she scowled at her husband. “Insulting me willna gain my favor. If you desire a younger wife, why don’t you—”

Fergus stood and rounded the table before his wife finished her tirade. He curled his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, despite her attempt to pull away. “You know that is not what I meant. You are as beautiful as ever.”

Maeve’s face flushed and she stopped struggling. “I may have a few more aches and pains than I used to, but I can still dance my way around any lass half my age.”

Fallon shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with the tension between her hosts, and searched for something to say. “I’m a healer. Mayhap I can put together a few herbs that will help to relieve some of your discomfort.”

Fergus laughed and ran a hand over his left hip. “The lass found a way to make herself useful. I could use a little of that elixir myself.”

“I will prepare the brew after we finish our meal. Speaking of which, I do intend to help with other chores as well.” Fallon picked up the platter of meat and carried it to the table. “After we’ve finished this wonderful food, we can discuss a list of things for me to do.”

“You are a
thrawn
lass—” Maeve began, but Fergus clutched her upper arm and shook his head. “You are fighting a battle of wits you have no hope of winning. There is no harm in letting the lass help you, as long as she stays out of sight. If what Bryce told me is true, she may be in danger should anyone recognize her.”

Fallon waited for Maeve to concede before taking her seat at the table. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to stay out of the way.” She poked her knife into a slice of meat and placed it on her trencher. “This looks delicious. I canna remember the last time I enjoyed such a feast.”

Bryce paced, his movements brisk, his posture rigid. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get Fallon off his mind. Despite Robert’s reassurances and his faith in Fergus, his gut told him she was in danger. Was sending her to Turnberry a mistake? Had his determination to distance himself and his emotions put her at risk?