Page 83 of The Scottish Bride
Shifting, she felt his arm snug her close, his breath over her brow as he slept. Sighing, she closed her eyes.
She stood on the slope of a hill. Dalrinnie soared above her and behind her the forest was a spreading filigree of dark branches against a red-gold sunset. She looked about for the knight, the one who had been there when she had left this castle. This time she did not sway precariously but rather stood on solid ground. Waiting.
The knight did not come. She stood alone, her hair long and loose, blowing back in the breeze. She had no shoes, no cloak, and stood shivering in the cold, wrapping her arms about her, waiting—for what? She was not sure.
Then, suddenly, without warning, horses were upon her—giant beasts, their legs strong and rapid, their forms huge, powerful. Then she saw knights on their backs, chain mail sparking like fire in the sunset—
An arm, stout and strong and cased in chain mail, swooped out and down to pluck her up as if she weighed nothing. The man tossed her over the saddle pommel.
The sunlight went out like a candle flame and the world went black.
Then she saw an iron frame, black and cold under her gripping hands. A dungeon door. A cage.
Tamsin,the knight called from far off.Tamsin—
But he would not find her in the darkness, would not see her trapped inside the iron bars. She cried out—
Startled awake, she caught back a sob. “Where are you—?”
“Here. Just here,” Liam said, his arm braced around her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“The sheriff’s deputywill meet us at Aikwood Tower, a few miles from here,” Liam said, riding beside Tamsin. As they left the makeshift forest stable behind, he led the way along another path that skirted the encampment. Well behind them, Finley rode alongside Lindsay’s man, Iain Campbell—two guards, one amiable and one dour, securely at their backs.
Tamsin had seen the leather bags they carried on their saddles, covered with blankets so as not to attract attention. Something important was to be delivered to the man they were to meet. She knew it had to do with Bruce, something Liam was part of arranging. She would wait—when the time was right, he would tell her. She felt more sure of him every day. Glancing back, she saw Finley lift a hand, and waved in response.
Brawny and silent, Iain Campbell also gave her a begrudging flicker of the hand. Inordinately pleased, she turned back.
“Is Aikwood held by the English?” she asked Liam.
“No one holds it just now. Fire damaged it beyond use, but it suits for private meetings, as no one goes there now. Though if I feel this fellow is not one I want to deal with, I will entrust the goods to James Lindsay, and we will all leave quick as we can.
“What goods are those?”
“Meant for Bruce,” he said simply.
“So you truly need to trust this sheriff’s deputy.”
“Aye. If all is well, you and I will travel onward.”
“On to Selkirk,” she affirmed.
“It is another five miles or so from the tower. Then you will be content, hey?” His glance held a twinkle.
She smiled faintly, anticipating the hours ahead. What would she do with the book once it was in her hands? Originally, her plan was to take it to Kincraig, for it should belong to her family. But King Edward still wanted it—and Liam wanted Bruce to have it. But the book was hers to decide, not his. She frowned, determination growing.
In the quiet as they rode, she felt the wind stir her white veil, the simple everyday linen piece that loosely covered the top and sides of her head tied around her brow with a cord, leaving her long braids to hang down. She had crammed the veil in her bag when she had left Dalrinnie—departing a widow, now riding a wife again, at least for now. She smoothed her gray skirts, shabby now but brushed clean, and adjusted her blue-and-green plaid cloak, its generous width draped over the back of the horse.
When she sought better purchase on the iron stirrups with her booted feet, her recent dream came back. Why had she dreamed of standing on a hill, waiting for the knight? The first dream about him had proven true; escaping, she had met Liam again. But this dream felt dangerous, hopeless, for she had been confined behind iron bars as if in a prison. It haunted her.
Where the forest path narrowed, she followed on the dappled horse behind Liam as they passed a pool and waterfall. Finley and Iain came behind at a distance. She slowed, wanting to linger in that pretty place.
“The air is so refreshing here,” she said over the sound of the waterfall as Liam turned, questioning. “I wish we could stay.”
“Another time.” His simple reply brought a spark of hope; his casual certainty about the future made her feel good in the moment. They moved on, leaving the rushing falls and the narrow path behind. Liam rode beside her again.
“We should not stop anywhere we might meet soldiers,” he said. “The closer we come to Selkirk, the more chance there is of seeing them. We must keep alert.” He glanced back. “Even with an armed escort, we could meet trouble.”
