Page 104 of The Forest Bride
“You saw him with John Menteith?”
“Aye. Sir John has our knights too, but they took them to a castle called Dunbarton. I heard them say so. Sir Hugh, Sir Quentin, and others are there.”
“Excellent lass! Get her out of here, Lennox.”
“Come, love. Sir Duncan will see to Lady Margaret and I will take you to safety,” Lennox said. “And I will head back with asmany men as we can muster. Duncan!” he called. “Is that your brother there?”
Turning, Duncan shaded his eyes. “Iain! And Andrew Murray behind him! They must have come out to find us. Take the lass and Andrew too, and send Iain to me. We will see to Margaret—and De Soulis.”
He watched them go, the slight tousled-haired girl and the giant of a man who cradled her as he walked over the rocks.
Turning, Duncan moved carefully, stealthily, then hunkered down behind a cluster of boulders and saplings. Beyond the gorge and the trees, he saw Margaret pause to wait as De Soulis rode toward her.
What did she intend by this? He knew in his deepest heart that she was his, part of him now as he was part of her. There was no going back from that, no betrayal ever possible.
And yet she waited for De Soulis. The knight stopped, spoke to her from the height of his saddle. As Margaret stepped to the side, he angled his horse to face her, his back to the falls.
Ah.Duncan understood. She realized that he, Malcolm, and Lilias were nearby, and she meant to distract De Soulis from seeing them. She was giving them a chance to escape. Brave, wild, impulsive lass. His own wild, powerful need to protect her surged within him.
Wary and watchful, he set a hand to the dagger sheathed at his belt and shifted the bow on his shoulder. Hunched, he edged over the rocks, behind trees, closer to the moor. The air was chill, moist, filled with the pounding roar of the falls behind him. He watched the bright-haired lass and judged what next to do.
Hearing a low whistle, he glanced back. His brother crouched and came toward him.
“Sir William,” Margaretsaid, “I have a message for you.”But not the one you want, she thought, sliding a glance behind De Soulisover the rumpled moor to the gorge. Where crooked trees thrust upward, she saw movement, a man crouched and dropping down behind the rocks.
She smiled, keeping the knight’s attention on her. Dropping back her hood, she showed him her braided hair with the maiden’s ribbon adorning it. She had to mislead him to help Duncan and the others get Lilias to safety.
“You bring news to treasure, I hope.”
She craned her head, uncomfortably aware of the huge white charger, too aware the man could pluck her up like a rag doll and carry her off. “Treasure! You did promise to return my brooch.” She saw it winking blue and silver on his cloak.
He covered it with a leather-gloved hand. “First, your promise to me. You want the pin, I want our betrothal fixed again. A mistake we can correct.”
“But I am betrothed to Sir Duncan.”
He waved a hand. “You will benefit more marrying a De Soulis than a Campbell. Edward punishes those who support Bruce, as I suspect he does. I mean to prove it. But now, I want to know why this gewgaw is so important to you.” He tapped the pin.
“It was a gift from my grandfather.”
“Thomas the Rhymer.” He nodded. “I know he willed some valuable items to his Keith kin. So this is one of those things.”
“Kin often leave valuables to their heirs. But how did you know?”
“Your father listed some of your inheritance in our letter of betrothal. I went to the sheriff of Selkirk to confirm it, since he retains copies of local wills. You were given a pin and a pendant. Small things. But their real worth was in belonging to True Thomas. Is it enchanted, this thing? It looks like a seeing-stone.”
Her heart pounded. “It is only precious to me and my family. Nothing more.”
“Was it a gift from the queen of faery? Some would think it foolish or even of the devil. But I find it intriguing.”
She had a terrible sense, a twisting in her gut that told her to flee. She stood firm. “Why would that interest you?”
“My own kin dabble in such things. My uncle, Walter de Soulis, whom I greatly admired, was interested in dark and magical matters. Last year, Walter was slain by treacherous Scots. I inherited some of his property. Magical armor, for one. But he did not have this,” he said, tapping the brooch again. “Now I do.”
She tried to laugh. “It is just a simple reminder of my Grandda. Give it back.”
“It does look like a seeing-stone. I looked through it but it would not show me anything. I have a feeling you can do that.” He leaned down. “Surely he taught you.”
“Give it to me—and I will show you.” She said it on impulse. That would put it in her hands. Then perhaps she could run from him, get away with the others.
