Page 57 of A Scot's Pride
The only good thing he’d learned on this chase was that, thus far, the two had separate rooms to sleep in, which was fantastic news. If they were still sleeping in separate rooms, it meant that Campbell had yet to take her to bed. And everyone knew once he’d soiled Leila’s reputation and taken away her only bargaining chip, the baron would insist they marry, even though Campbell was a cad.
Fortune had been on Bryson’s side regarding Lucy, and Bryson hoped the same could be said for Leila. It did seem that Leila was a bit more…precocious than Lucy. Which was why Bryson only took partial blame. There were three people to blame here. Himself, Campbell and Leila. Knowing her family, Leila had been raised with the right morals and understanding of how things worked. She wasn’t even of age to be presented at court or in society, which meant this was illegal. And the young lady knew that.
Campbell, of course, had chosen her for that reason. His tastes in women tended to run young.
Hours later, Bryson came to a new town; his horse was lathered up more than he liked. He needed to rest his mount, maybe barter for boarding and another horse to keep him on his way. This type of traveling wasn’t good for his noble steed and wasn’t worth an injury.
After giving his horse to the stable hand beside the inn and telling the man to take extra good care of his horse, Bryson ducked inside the inn. It was dimly lit and smoky from the men chuffing on pipes and cigars. Bryson slid onto a hard, wooden stool.
“What’ll you be having?” the barkeep said, tapping his hand on the bar in front of Bryson.
Bryson laid more coin on the counter than was necessary. “An ale and a question.”
The barkeep grinned, taking the coin, biting it, and then pocketing it. He poured ale from a tap and slid the glass toward Bryson. “Here’s your ale. And what’s the question?”
“I’m looking for two people. A man and a young lady. They’re not yet wed, but soon to be. A bit flighty, the both of them.” Bryson took a long sip of the ale, the liquid cooling his dry throat.
“Runaways?” The man wiped the counter in front of him with a rag that had seen better days.
“You could say that.” Bryson gulped the rest of his ale and indicated he’d have another, laying more coins on the counter.
The barkeep obliged and said, “Aye, they were just here. Not an hour ago. Bought rounds for all the men—on credit—saying they’d be coming into some money soon. My fault for falling for it. Both were sotted when they left. I offered them a room, hoping to get paid, but they said the only room they needed was the grass and sky and some other malarky I didn’t have the patience for. Nor was I in the mood for a fight.”
Och. Bryson gritted his teeth. His second ale was untouched.
It would seem that if Campbell hadn’t convinced her to give up the prize, he was well on his way to making it happen.
“Thank ye.” Bryson downed his ale and put another coin on the counter, grateful to finally have a break in this ridiculous case.
“You weren’t the first person to ask about them.”
Bryson perked up at that. “What do ye mean?”
“Older woman came in looking. Had a young one with her.”
Bryson frowned. Another mother and duped daughter, no doubt.
“Thank ye for letting me know.”
“My pleasure, friend. I hope ye find them.”
Bryson nodded and then left the tavern, marching up to the stables to find his mount brushed down, fed and watered. He stroked his muzzle.
“He seems cooled down enough for me, my lord,” the stable master said, and it was true. His horse seemed calm and even a little energized. “He’s a sturdy lad. Though I suspect he’ll be glad for a good rest when you get to where you need to be tonight.”
“Thank ye for caring for him.” Bryson passed the man a coin and then mounted, slowly leaving town as he contemplated which way the two elopers might have gone.
Was it possible Campbell would convince Leila to camp out under the stars? It was nothing for a man to do it. Hell, he’d done it himself hundreds of times, and Campbell too. Bryson felt more comfortable on a bed of grass than a mattress anyhow, and there were plenty of nights he slept on the floor of his chamber rather than the bed simply because it made his back feel better.
But a lady, that was something different. Ladies didn’t camp out unless they had to. Ladies preferred the comforts of a bed, four walls, a ceiling and a door. They liked to be comfortable and safe.
Unless she thought of a night under the stars as romantic, which Campbell, trying to save coin after splurging on all the ale, might be willing to convince her of given his lighter pockets.
That thought made him wonder about Freya. Would she want to camp out under the stars? He knew she preferred to be outside, hence her propensity for early morning meanderings in the moors.
Maybe he was wrong about women.
Bryson rode slowly, checking for signs of movement on the road. There were plenty of woods around this small village. Places to camp out and hide from prying eyes. With his training, he’d be able to pick up on any clue that would show the two elopers.
