Page 53 of Romancing the Scot
Men like her father formed the backbone of every army. It hurt her knowing these men enabled the perpetual wars between nations to be fought. It was in their self-interest to obey the commands of politicians and kings as they drew a line in the sand and declared one side good and the other side evil.
Standing before the portrait in that nursery, she’d felt sorrow twist her insides as years of guilt-tinged memories were dredged up. Reliving those moments had devastated her, filled her once again with anguish at the fate of so many victims, Amelia and Cameron included.
Yes, she’d spoken what was in her heart to Hugh, spewed out the wreckage of her life, told him of her sorrow at what she could not undo, but it tore her apart.
Suddenly, there was not enough air within the walls of Baronsford, and Grace felt faint. Staggering down a back staircase, she stepped outside and gasped, desperate to fill her lungs.
As she started to walk, the needle-like rain did not pierce her skin but stabbed at her soul. She wanted to be free of these memories she’d been burdened with for so many years. Grace, whose mind never forgot anything. But something had changed. Now she understood. Bravery and honor were too easily used by “righteous” men who called the young to die for king and country. Victims deserved to be mourned, regardless of their allegiance.
“Can I help, mistress?”
The man’s voice startled her, and she stabbed away her tears. A worker stood over his hoe, staring with concern at her. Grace looked around her, realizing she was crossing through the kitchen gardens. In the distance, she saw the long lane winding out of Baronsford.
“No, thank you. I’m fine,” she said, never pausing.
Pulling her shawl up over her head, she hurried on. The urge to put distance between herself and Baronsford grew with each step she took.
Melrose Village. Fear of exposure no longer propelled her steps. She simply needed to get away. Grace wasn’t worried about Hugh or Jo knowing who she was. She wasn’t concerned about any chastisement regarding her lies. She knew her words had ripped at Hugh’s wounded heart and she had to walk away. Seeing him again was not an option. Revisiting those moments in Amelia’s rooms was out of question. She had to immediately leave Baronsford. Leave Scotland.
The lane was slick with the rain. Grace half ran, half walked through the gray morning, picking her way between wagon ruts filled with muddy water. She was sure this was the way to the village; it was the road Jo pointed out on one of their walks.
Quite a distance from Baronsford, she entered a dense forest. As the dark woods surrounded her, a feeling of desperation washed through her, mingling with the chill of the rain. She had no money, no friends or connections to turn to, nowhere to take shelter. The only wisp of hope she had to hold on to was that Mrs. Douglas’s letter was an offer of assistance . . .old foes are now the closest of allies.Grace needed financial help to get to Antwerp, and she prayed that the woman, familiar with her past, would be willing.
Beneath the dark green canopy of branches overhead, huge drops of water continued to splash down on her. The rain had slowed to a mist. The forest showed no sign of ending, and as she rounded a line of trees and hurried down a hill, she wondered how far the village could be. A fog had settled in the low areas, and the visibility was poor. As Grace walked, she passed two cottages tucked into glens along the lane. But there’d been no people, no green gardens, no chickens or goats in the pens, no smoke coming from the chimneys.
She pulled the wrap around her shoulders. Her foot slipped into a rut, and her ankle rolled painfully. Grace was thrown off balance and barely caught herself from falling. Cursing inwardly, she crouched and felt her ankle. The pain was sharp.
“Why now?” she murmured, fighting back angry tears.
She froze at the rustle of leaves, and the hairs rose on the back of her neck. There to her left. Something moved. She listened. An eternity passed. Again. A footfall amid the dense thickets. She hadn’t imagined it.
Grace looked over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. Alarm prickled through her. She stared at the unfamiliar landscape of trees, rocks. A hill dropped off into a foggy glen and she could hear only the rain dripping from the trees and the distant burbling of a stream.
She saw nothing. Still, she knew she was being watched.
Her father’s voice immediately came into her head.Always fight. Never allow yourself to become the passive prey. Fight.
Her gaze swept the area around her for a weapon. A broken branch drew her eye.
Pain shot up her leg as she tried to walk. Stepping into the hole had done some damage. She limped over and picked up the branch, yanking off twigs and leaves. Leaning on it for a walking stick, Grace started off again.
A few steps farther, a shadow moved in the mist by a large rock a dozen paces off the path. She stopped, staring into the forest gloom.
A trampled twig cracked on her right. She whirled, looking in that direction. No one that she could see. Only the dripping rain and the fog. But now she knew at least two were stalking her. She turned at the sound of another footstep to her left. More than two. Perhaps three. Or more. And they were closing in on her.
The sound of her beating heart pounded in her ears. A woman walking alone in this murky wood. An easy target to rob. Her dress and shawl, ruined with rain as they were, spoke of wealth. But what would they do to her once they realized she had no coins to give them?
She looked at the lane ahead, not knowing how far she had to go. With the pain in her ankle, there would be no running back to Baronsford, either. She’d come too far.
The grief she’d battled earlier, the uncertainty of what was to become of her once she reached the village, meant nothing now. She was frightened and alone, but she wasn’t going to give in to them without a fight.
She moved forward a few steps and then stopped and turned, looking in every direction, trying to see through the mists.
“Show yourselves.”
No answer. She could see nothing. The fog and the woods around her hid them.
“What do you want?”
