Page 38 of The Scottish Bride
“Just so.” He looked away. She could capture him like a fish in a net. But he knew better than to let that happen.
He glanced out the window. Dalrinnie was well in the distance, yet no matter how far away, his castle pulled at his heart. And no matter what it took, or who claimed it now, he would regain his home.
As much as he disliked the idea, there was one way to do that.
Get the book from her,Edward had said.It does not matter how ’tis done.
Chapter Eleven
Gilchrist and Finleyplayed dice while Liam closed his eyes and began to doze. Beside him, Lady Tamsin laid her head on her folded arms and rested too. After a while, he opened his eyes, feeling lulled and enchanted, as if the Queen of Faery, as in the old ballads, sat with him. He absorbed warmth from the hearth, listened to the crackle of flames and sleet pelting the windows, and lost his sense of urgency. Tamsin raised her head, spoke to the dog in a soft voice. Gentleness emanated from her like a glow.
It felt like love, he thought, just to watch her. She had talked of what she loved, books and reading, dogs and Dalrinnie, yet never mentioned her famed great-grandfather. The thought was a dash of cold water to his spirit. Some matters needed his attention, and he felt lulled, too relaxed.
He sat up, looked around, heard the rain against the parchment-covered windows—and then Roc lurched to his feet with a low ruff.
A torrent of noise erupted outside. Hoofbeats. Liam stood, and at Lady Tamsin’s quick anxious look, set a hand on her shoulder.
“Let me see,” he said, and went to a window. A commotion of riders and horses hurtled into the yard—three, four, now five, the inn’s young groom running to assist.
King’s men, certainly. Malise’s men, likely. He turned as Gilchrist joined him at the window. “Comyn?”
“Perhaps. We should leave. But if they recognize the lass, we cannot risk a chase in these conditions.”
“Finley and I could go another way to distract them.”
“For now, we watch. Here they come.” He stepped back, looking around, judging how quickly he could whisk the lady outside and onto his horse. He went back to the table, pausing to speak to the innkeeper’s wife.
“Dame, if you please,” he said, “do not let these men know we are traveling to Holyoak. I must protect my lady. You understand.” Reaching into the pouch at his belt, he produced a few silver groats. “For our meal—and your kindness.”
“Generous, sir. I dinna want trouble here, especially for your lady wife.”
Wife.He let that go with a smile and headed back, pausing to pluck up Tamsin’s dry cloak along with his own, glancing to be sure her satchels were within easy reach. Their swords were by the door, daggers sheathed in belts, all at the ready. Good.
Tamsin Keith gave him a concerned frown as he sat again. “Soldiers?”
He nodded. The door burst open then and several men crowded inside, sweeping in a draft of cold, wet air. Liam drank from his ale cup, watching, wary. The men stomped sleet on the floorboards, shook rain from cloaks, and dropped their hoods.
Three wore red surcoats, two dark tunics, all were in mail. They removed their swords to prop them by the door, too near the swords Liam and the others had left there. Seeing the weapons, the men glanced around, then nodded toward Liam and his kinsmen.
The innkeeper’s wife came forward to seat them at a table near the window, bringing ale and remarking on the weather.
Liam caught Finley’s somber glance, Gilchrist’s too as they sat and picked up the dice again. Lady Tamsin watched, eyes gray as storm clouds. Liam draped her warmed cloak over hershoulders and closed her brooch deftly. She lifted her chin to allow it, eyes questioning.
“Should we leave?” she whispered.
“Perhaps,” he murmured. “Follow my lead. All will be well.” He touched her arm, lightly and away.
The innkeeper grabbed his cloak from a wall peg and went outside to help the stable boy with the horses while Dame Brown brought soup bowls and oatcakes to the new guests. She chuckled as the knights groused about being seated away from the warm hearth on such a day.
“We have other guests driven in by the weather,” she said. When one man asked a question, tipping his head toward Liam and the rest, she nodded. “Och, aye,” she said. “A lord and his lady wife, traveling with their escort. I think they are new married. So nice to provide a hot meal for a happy couple on such a dreary day.”
Tamsin’s eyebrows shot high. Finley huffed a laugh and lifted his ale cup.
“My lord, my lady, congratulations.” He saluted and drank.
“But—” Tamsin protested.
“Hush, this may be just what we need,” Liam whispered.
