Page 86 of The Forest Bride
A light rain was tapping on the leaves overhead, misting her hair, his shoulders. He let go and stepped back. “Take that reassurance as you consider your choices.”
“Dear God, Duncan,” she said, and reached out, grabbed his cloak, and pulled him toward her. She threw her arms around him and kissed him, soundly, surely. He pulled her against him, hands at her waist, and returned kisses until he felt her sink in his grasp. His own knees shook, his body flamed as he drew back, resting his forehead on hers.
“What is this now,” he whispered.
“I am near to deciding,” she breathed, and he pressed her in a full embrace, taking her in a deep kiss, lifting her full against him as his body responded, as hers answered. Then he set her on her feet again.
“Decide soon, or I am done for, lady,” he said raggedly. “We should go. Where is that damned arrow?”
“Later,” she blurted, breathing hard, pulling at his sleeve.
About to take hold of her again, he heard a deep sound, a long resonant echo from the direction of the castle. “We must go.”
“What was that?” Holding his arm now, she peered through the trees.
“They are sounding an alarm. Mungo! Where did he—here, lad!” he beckoned, his voice oddly hoarse. The dog came toward him and Duncan ruffled the great gray head. Mungo licked Margaret’s hand for more and she petted him too, her fingers over Duncan’s. Trembling.
He took her arm. “Come. Something is going on.”
Walking swiftly out of the woodland and around the castle wall, he saw men on chargers just outside the gate, recognizing Constantine, Lennox, Henry Keith. Bran was on foot, coming over the turf toward Duncan. “Sir!” He beckoned urgently.
“What is it?” Duncan ran, Margaret hurrying after, while the hound with great long strides reached Bran first.
“The patrol just returned. They saw soldiers in the glen to the east, riding toward the falls.”
“That route could bring them here. Margaret, take the dog’s collar if you will, and lead him inside.” He turned. “Bran, I need a horse saddled—”
“Waiting by the gate, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-One
They rode outin fair silence to follow the shallow, winding river through the glen. Cutting eastward over hills and moors, the Brechlinn group slowed as a member of their patrol, having waited for them, approached on a dappled gray charger. The garrons, Duncan and the others all knew, were unsuited if the need for a chase arose.
“Alan!” Duncan rode to meet him, the others following. “What have you seen?”
“Sir, there were several riding this way, at least toward the falls. But they are gone. They turned and rode back, and just before you arrived, left the east glen.”
“Then it seems as if they are returning to Roskie. Good work, Alan. We will ride along the top of the ridge to be sure they are gone. Henry, if you will come with me, then Bran and Lennox can look elsewhere. Alan, you and the others can go back.”
“Aye, sir.” Bran rode off with Lennox, while Alan and two others who had ridden out with Duncan and the rest rode down a slope and out of sight on their way back along the river toward Brechlinn and the great loch.
Duncan turned his horse across the shoulder of the nearest hill and Henry followed. They reached the top of the ridge overlooking the east glen. Along the length of that valley, he saw no men, no horses. Only a few sheep.
“Not very much happening here now,” Henry said.
“We will watch for a little while before heading back. For now, tell me what you know of De Soulis. I only met him recently when we were out with Lady Margaret flying hawks. Falcons,” he amended. “I know something of the De Soulis family and their strong loyalty to King Edward. And I know your sister has a tie to him in the past.”
“And may it stay in the past,” Henry said.
“She told me something of the betrothals that followed…ours. We had some discussion about what happened with her—over these last years.”
“So you know some of it. You were the first to reject her, but not the only one.”
“Let me say, sir, that I have regretted that day ever since. I know I made an error. No apology can make it up to the lady or her kin.”
“I heard you thought it was the honorable thing to do.”
“I did. I was young—honor was a simple concept then. A great deal happened quickly after that. It was a while before I had time to reflect on it.”
