before, preparing for
company he’d received. Bea had yet to marry. Nell’s husband, Joseph, a worthy
Gunn warrior, died in battle only a year prior. They didn’t seem to mind
serving in the laird’s keep, which is why he’d thought of them in the first
place. He hoped they’d be amiable, because he’d be leaving the child in their
care.
Duff left whistling a cheerful tune.
“A daughter. Figures,” Grey said to
himself. The wee lass backed enough to see him and smiled, her small teeth
shiny and bright. “Well a daughter might not be so bad. You’ll be a good lass
and listen to your da.” A sudden severity came to him saying those words.
He never expected to father to a
child, and one which reminded him of Albrey at that. Though he’d been with a
few women, he’d always been careful. His responsibilities were far too time
consuming and he had no desire to wed and raise a family. At least, he hadn’t
thought of the desire since he’d been a lad, when his life was destined for a
different path. Had his heart hardened beyond repair?
He didn’t need such a hindrance in
his life, but it seemed what he wanted didn’t much matter. Grey supposed he did
have room in his heart for a daughter. Life was about to become far more
complicated.
CHAPTER FOUR
Leaving was easier than she
imagined. Bree envisioned a tearful goodbye, but for all the years she spent
with the Champlains, they sent her on her way without much fanfare. Her father
claimed he couldn’t say goodbye and went hunting with some of his men. He was
absent from the farewell, which was probably for the best. Bree would have
broken down if her father showed any emotion.
Her mother wept silently on the
steps of the manor. Bree took heart and made enough of her special sweet cakes
to last her a fortnight. Melinda cried about wanting trunks of herbs like Bree
and carried on. Her screaming could likely be heard in the village a mile from
the fief. Bree expected some comfort from them, but she should have known she’d
get none.
The only person to show sorrow was
Rhys, who hugged her for nearly five minutes before letting go. It was Cait’s
insistence which finally got him to release her. She’d miss her dear friend and
hoped one day she might return to him. If what he’d said was true, he would
have married her. Marriage to Rhys was more acceptable than marrying someone
she didn’t know. He loved her which was something she always wanted, to be
loved.
Love. Any sort of love would do, and
his was the kind of love a woman dreamt of. Until she was assured she wouldn’t
be hunted by the MacHeths, she couldn’t return and risk his safety.
For three days, Bree and Cait waited
for some sign the Gunns were coming. She began to give up hope they’d been
given the message. The friar at the Abbey didn’t take well to having women
staying within, though with a few coins were persuaded to allow them inside
overnight. Finally, they could delay no further. When the commander of the
baron’s guard insisted they depart from the Abbey, they had no choice but to
continue the journey.
The trek became wearisome and long.
Bree grew bored at watching the scenery, even though the countryside was
beautiful. The weather warmed and the nights weren’t so chilly when they made
camp. She was happy to be making the journey during summer rather than winter.
Bree rode next to Cait; each had
been given their own palfrey. Beyond them, two carts carried six small trunks
of salt, one large trunk full of her precious herbs, and one other trunk
holding their belongings. Cait insisted in bringing all their belongings,
because she had no intension of ever returning. The marriage procession wasn’t
as grand as some.
Four outriders took position, riding
alongside her and Cait for their protection. Two others rode ahead of the
procession and another two behind. In all there were eight men defending her.
Cait whispered eight men were no match for one
company he’d received. Bea had yet to marry. Nell’s husband, Joseph, a worthy
Gunn warrior, died in battle only a year prior. They didn’t seem to mind
serving in the laird’s keep, which is why he’d thought of them in the first
place. He hoped they’d be amiable, because he’d be leaving the child in their
care.
Duff left whistling a cheerful tune.
“A daughter. Figures,” Grey said to
himself. The wee lass backed enough to see him and smiled, her small teeth
shiny and bright. “Well a daughter might not be so bad. You’ll be a good lass
and listen to your da.” A sudden severity came to him saying those words.
He never expected to father to a
child, and one which reminded him of Albrey at that. Though he’d been with a
few women, he’d always been careful. His responsibilities were far too time
consuming and he had no desire to wed and raise a family. At least, he hadn’t
thought of the desire since he’d been a lad, when his life was destined for a
different path. Had his heart hardened beyond repair?
He didn’t need such a hindrance in
his life, but it seemed what he wanted didn’t much matter. Grey supposed he did
have room in his heart for a daughter. Life was about to become far more
complicated.
CHAPTER FOUR
Leaving was easier than she
imagined. Bree envisioned a tearful goodbye, but for all the years she spent
with the Champlains, they sent her on her way without much fanfare. Her father
claimed he couldn’t say goodbye and went hunting with some of his men. He was
absent from the farewell, which was probably for the best. Bree would have
broken down if her father showed any emotion.
Her mother wept silently on the
steps of the manor. Bree took heart and made enough of her special sweet cakes
to last her a fortnight. Melinda cried about wanting trunks of herbs like Bree
and carried on. Her screaming could likely be heard in the village a mile from
the fief. Bree expected some comfort from them, but she should have known she’d
get none.
The only person to show sorrow was
Rhys, who hugged her for nearly five minutes before letting go. It was Cait’s
insistence which finally got him to release her. She’d miss her dear friend and
hoped one day she might return to him. If what he’d said was true, he would
have married her. Marriage to Rhys was more acceptable than marrying someone
she didn’t know. He loved her which was something she always wanted, to be
loved.
Love. Any sort of love would do, and
his was the kind of love a woman dreamt of. Until she was assured she wouldn’t
be hunted by the MacHeths, she couldn’t return and risk his safety.
For three days, Bree and Cait waited
for some sign the Gunns were coming. She began to give up hope they’d been
given the message. The friar at the Abbey didn’t take well to having women
staying within, though with a few coins were persuaded to allow them inside
overnight. Finally, they could delay no further. When the commander of the
baron’s guard insisted they depart from the Abbey, they had no choice but to
continue the journey.
The trek became wearisome and long.
Bree grew bored at watching the scenery, even though the countryside was
beautiful. The weather warmed and the nights weren’t so chilly when they made
camp. She was happy to be making the journey during summer rather than winter.
Bree rode next to Cait; each had
been given their own palfrey. Beyond them, two carts carried six small trunks
of salt, one large trunk full of her precious herbs, and one other trunk
holding their belongings. Cait insisted in bringing all their belongings,
because she had no intension of ever returning. The marriage procession wasn’t
as grand as some.
Four outriders took position, riding
alongside her and Cait for their protection. Two others rode ahead of the
procession and another two behind. In all there were eight men defending her.
Cait whispered eight men were no match for one
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