Page 102 of The Forest Bride
A maiden’s ribbon, for she had no veil or wimple yet. But she had become a bride in a passionate sense, and soon would be wife to the only man she had ever wanted. She sighed, smiled, feeling loved, trusted, treasured, and trusting. It felt like more than enough.
And today she hoped for the best news to come when Duncan returned with Lilias. Then she could truly plan for the future.
Yet worry tapped at her as she took up her green cloak against the morning chill and headed down to the bailey. The fear grew as she crossed the yard to see her brother, Agatha, and several others gathered there, including Sir Liam, Constantine, the bishop, Andrew, Bran, and a cluster of knights. She hurried over to Henry.
“Has something happened?” she asked.
Henry smiled. “All is well. Bran is about to take the bishop and a few others out with the birds for hawking and hunting. Sir Constantine is putting together a patrol. Would you like to go hawking this morning?”
“Not today. I was worried, seeing everyone here—I thought something had happened to Duncan.”
Henry lifted a brow. “Duncan? Constantine said he and Lennox went out early.”
“No need for concern, my lady,” Constantine said. “When the patrol is organized, we will go out and meet them.
“I will go with the hawking party, to make sure they have an extra guard,” Liam Seton said. “We cannot be too cautious,” he added.
“I would liketo take a morning ride, but I will not go far,” Margaret said. If she could ride toward the waterfall, she might find Duncan and Lennox on their way back.
“You will need an escort,” Henry cautioned.
“I can go with her,” Andrew spoke up.
“I will take them out. I know the area,” Iain Campbell offered. His glance toward Margaret was calm but keen, reminding her of his brother. She sensed that he was concerned about Duncan too.
“Aye then,” Bran said. “I will have the grooms saddle additional horses for the hawking party, the patrol, and those taking fresh air.” He gave her a sidelong glance, curious and wondering. Feeling tension in the air, Margaret wondered if some of Duncan’s friends harbored a concern they did not voice.
While the horses and hawks were being readied, Effie came toward them. “If you would like to break your fast before you leave, there is food set out in the hall.”
Impatient to ride out, but knowing the delay was necessary, Margaret went with the rest to the great hall, where Effie and the servants had provided a spread of dishes on a trestle table, including porridge, bacon, cheese, and more. In time they returned to the bailey, where Bran gave Margaret a sturdy pony with a sidesaddle, the same garron she had ridden before when she’d visited the falls with Duncan.
Finally they all filed through the gate, Bran leading the hawking party west and away, while Margaret, with Andrew and Sir Iain, went north toward the river.
“There is a pretty waterfall ahead if you would like to see it,” Sir Iain said.
“Your brother took me there. I would love to see it again.”
“No farther, though. Duncan would be displeased if you were out too long today.”
“Let him take that up with me,” she said, urging her pony ahead.
Iain did not protest; silence, she noticed, was his natural preference. They rode the few miles toward the waterfall quietly, and soon she heard the rumble of the falls as they approachedthe deep gorge that contained the falls, the pool, and part of the river.
Her concern deepened with every mile, every slope and stretch of moor and woodland. When they stopped to watch the thundering white downpour and the wide pool from afar, she turned to Iain.
“Can we leave the horses here and walk toward the falls?”
He grimaced, clearly thinking it was not a good idea, but finally agreed. “As you wish. We can leave the horses over that way.”
As they entered the strip of woodland that edged along the river, she saw two horses quietly grazing, reined to trees. “Duncan and Lennox are here!” she said.
“So it seems,” Iain said, frowning. Once they dismounted and tied their horses securely, Iain directed them toward a natural path slick with moisture. Margaret remembered going that way with Duncan to see the waterfall. She hurried ahead.
Andrew and Iain were slightly behind her as she followed an angled path toward the gorge. Rocks piled like high barriers in places, and trees filled the gaps with curtains of leafy branches. Soon the waterfall was closer, larger, louder as water rushed over the cliff, white and frothy and swirling, powered by the force of the drop.
“There is a pretty glen past here, as I recall,” Margaret said. “Perhaps Duncan and Lennox went that way.”
“Possibly,” Iain said. “These are all Brechlinn lands, but few live here now. My brother wants to bring the glen folk back. He wants them to feel safe again.”
