Page 22 of Highlander's Escaped Prisoner
“Do you know where they went?” he asked, his heart beating frantically.
“They didnae tell me,” she said regretfully. “But I saw them ridin’ doon the road tae Tarbeck.” She pointed to a road that snaked down the hill and off into the distance. “There is an inn on the road, the Black Sheep, an’ ye can ask there.”
Logan thanked Catriona and dropped a few coins into her hand. Now he was absolutely penniless, but at least he had an idea of where to go.
Tarbeck was only a short ride of about half a mile from Wallaceneuk, and they rode along in almost total silence. Nessa was trying desperately to wonder why anyone would say that her father was a killer. It was not true; it could not possibly be. She knew that her father was a gentle man, a fair and honest laird, and a friend to all his tenants. Killing was not in his nature.
“Do you believe what Andrew Henderson said?” she asked suddenly.
She heard Bryce sighing behind her. “As I told you before, Nessa, I do not know what to think. I only know what I heard, but I want to believe that it is not in your father’s character to do such a thing.”
“So you do not believe him?” Her voice was desperately eager.
“I am inclined not to,” Bryce replied evasively.
Andrew’s words sat at the back of her mind as she ambled down the road to the next village with Bryce sitting behind her, his arms wrapped around her as he held the reins.
It was strange that he had suddenly assumed the role of the one controlling the horse, and Jo seemed to have no objections. It felt natural to let him take charge, and Nessa was comfortable with it. She felt sheltered and protected, as though he was a wall around her, keeping all danger away. She had never experiencedthis sensation before, and it came to her that she was beginning to believe the best of this man who had leaped into her life so suddenly.
“There is the inn,” he said, pointing.
The building was a sturdy stone structure with a slate roof, and as they drew near, they could see that it had a barn attached to the side that was doing double duty as a stable. A little girl was sitting on the grass outside playing with a doll, but she looked up as she saw them approaching, took one look at Jo, and hurried inside, terrified.
“I am afraid my Jo has that effect on many people,” Nessa said sadly. “If only they knew how gentle he is inside.”
“I share his pain,” Bryce grumbled as he dismounted. “People feel the same way about me.”
Nessa looked him up and down. He was a magnificently man, powerful, formidable-looking man, and she could see how his appearance could scare people, but she knew the truth about him. Like Jo, he was not what he appeared to be on the outside, and in a way, she felt sorry for him.
There were a few men sitting in the main room drinking ale, talking and singing bawdy songs as they went in, but all the noise stopped as soon as Nessa and Bryce walked in. All the patrons stopped to look at the slender, beautiful woman and the tall, threatening man. They were a very odd couple indeed. Presently, they all went back to their drinks, although a few male eyes lingered on Nessa. It was very seldom that they were treated to the sight of such a beautiful woman.
“What can I dae for ye this fine day?” The landlord was a beefy, cheery man with florid cheeks and a pleasant manner. “Ale?Whiskey? Beef stew?”
“Beef stew sounds wonderful!” Nessa said eagerly. “And do you have rooms for the night?”
“Only one left, hen,” the man said regretfully. “There was a market in Wallaceneuk an’ we are fu’ up.”
Nessa and Bryce exchanged glances. “Should we take it?’’ she whispered. She did not want the whole room knowing their business, especially the fact that they were not married.
“You are the lady. You decide,” he replied. “We will only be here for one night, so I can sleep on the floor.”
“You are injured,” she pointed out. “You cannot lie on a hard wooden floor.”
“Let us take the room and argue about it upstairs,” he suggested.
“If you wish,” she replied, frowning at him. She turned back to the landlord. “We will take the room,” she said firmly, then she lowered her voice. “And please give us one extra mattress to put on the bed. My husband has problems with his back.”
The landlord smiled at them amiably. “Of course. Come this way.”
13
The room was spartan but spotlessly clean, and Nessa smiled when she saw it. “This is perfect,” she said happily. “We will be very comfortable here, Master...?” She raised her eyebrows inquiringly.
“Donaldson, mistress,” he replied. “Jack Donaldson.” He was a little in awe of her, she could see. Likely he did not hear upper-class accents like hers very often, but he softened as she smiled at him.
“Thank you, Jack,” Bryce agreed, smiling. “We will have two flagons of ale too, and please send them to our room.”
Donaldson had to tilt his head back to look at him and was obviously slightly awestruck. “Aye, sir,” he said, and hurried out.
