Jamie heard the priest's frantic call. She turned around immediately, a worried expression on her face. 'Father, you shouldn't be running until your chest is better,' she called out. The priest climbed the steps and grabbed her arm. 'Alec just saw the hole in the back wall.' She gave him a gentle smile. 'He was bound to notice, Father.'
It was clear to him that the sweet lass didn't understand her jeopardy. 'You'd best come along with me to the chapel until Alec hears all the soldiers' explanations. He'll calm down in an hour or two. Then you can-'
'Have more faith in your laird,' Jamie countered. 'He'll see the rightness in the change, once it's finished. I'm sure of it, Father. Besides, he won't yell at me. I have his promise. Please don't worry. I'll go inside and explain it all to Alec. I'm certainly not afraid.'
''Tis your lack of fear that has me most afeared,' the old man admitted. He knew Alec wouldn't touch her in anger. Still, he could destroy her delicate feelings with his shouts. Father Murdock made a hasty sign of the cross after Jamie patted his hand and walked inside. He was too weak in his knees to go after her.
Jamie braced herself against her husband's irritation and hurried on into the hall. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw what was going on. Alec was sitting at the head of the table. A soldier stood at his side, giving his accounting.
Alec didn't look overly upset. His elbow rested on the tabletop and his forehead rested in his hand. He looked more weary than angry.
All the soldiers who'd worked on dismantling the kitchen building were there, too.
Well, hell, they were standing in line, obviously waiting their turn to tell on her. Jamie gave them a good frown to let them know what she thought of their disloyalty, then walked toward her husband.
When he finally glanced up, Jamie froze. He was furious. The tic was back in his clenched jaw. His eyes were blazing with anger. The wind didn't aid her cause much either. The whistling sound coming through the large hole reminded Alec of what she'd done.
He stared at her for a long silent moment. 'I would like to explain,' she said.
'Leave this room immediately, wife.'
He hadn't raised his voice to her, but his rude command stung just the same.
'Alec, you promised me you wouldn't forget your temper,' she reminded him.
Heaven help her, she was suddenly quite terrified by the look in his eyes.
He did yell at her then. 'Get out before I… now, wife.'
Jamie nodded. She rushed over to the mantel, grabbed a coin from the box, and then walked out of the hall with as much dignity as she could muster under such humiliating circumstances.
Edith and Annie were standing near the entrance. They snickered when she passed them.
Jamie didn't start crying until she reached the stables. She ordered Donald to ready Wildfire. The stable master didn't argue with her command, and once he'd helped her mount her horse, he asked if he should prepare Alec's steed.
She shook her head, then started for the gate.
Father Murdock was standing in the courtyard, waiting for her to pass him.
Jamie leaned down and handed him her coin. 'He lied to me,' she whispered. 'This is for an indulgence for his soul.'
Murdock grabbed hold of the stirrup. 'Where are you going, lass?' he asked, pretending not to notice her tears. 'You have me worrying.'
'Out.'
'Out?'
'His order, Father, and I am ever dutiful. Which way is England?'
The priest was too stunned to point the direction. Jamie guessed it was downhill. 'Thank you for being kind to me,' she said.
She left the priest staring after her with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
Jamie knew he'd eventually go and tell on her, then decided it didn't matter.
Alec wouldn't come after her. She wasn't significant enough. He'd be happy to be rid of her.
She thought she'd have trouble at the drawbridge, yet after she'd explained that she was doing their laird's bidding, the soldiers immediately let her pass.
She let Wildfire race with the wind then. Jamie simply held on, openly weeping.
She didn't know where they were headed or how long they continued at the neck-breaking pace. In truth, she didn't care about anything but having her cry.
When the horse finally stopped in the shelter of the trees, Jamie decided it was time to regain a bit of control.
She saw the boy then. He wasn't a Kincaid, she realized, as his plaid was of a different color. Jamie didn't make a sound. She hoped the boy wouldn't notice her, for she didn't want anyone to see her in such a disgraceful condition, not even a child.
The boy was too preoccupied to look behind him. He was staring intently at the bushes to his right. Jamie wondered what held him so entranced.
He suddenly cried out and started to back away just as a giant boar let out a vile-sounding snort and charged forward.
Jamie instinctively reacted. She slapped Wildfire's flank, sending her into a full gallop. The mare flew down the slope.
Jamie clutched the reins and Wildfire's mane in her left hand and leaned to the right side.
The child saw her coming. He started running toward her, his hands outstretched.
Jamie prayed she had the strength to lift the boy. God proved merciful. With the child's eager assistance and his death grip on her right arm, she was able to haul him up high enough for him to swing one leg over Wildfire's back.
They both held on for dear life. The boar gave up his chase a few minutes later, but Wildfire was still prickly with fear. The horse suddenly turned. Jamie and the boy went tumbling to the ground.
She landed on her side. He landed on top of her. He quickly rolled to the side, then stood and tried to help her.
He was tugging on her right arm. She grimaced against the pain. 'Are you hurt?' the child asked, his fear obvious in his thick Gaelic burr.
'Just bruised,' Jamie answered in Gaelic. She slowly regained her feet, then noticed her bliaut was torn at the shoulder seam.
They were standing in the center of a narrow clearing. Jamie was shaking from head to toe. 'We've had a close call, we have,' she announced. 'Lord, I was scared. Were you?' she asked when the boy looked up at her.
The child nodded.
They both smiled then. 'We gave him what-for, didn't we?'
'Aye, we did give him what-for,' she said, thinking to herself what an adorable child he was. He had long red hair. It curled around his cherubic face. His nose was painted with large freckles. 'I'm Lady Kincaid,' she continued. 'And your name?'
'I shouldn't be telling,' the boy whispered. 'I'm not supposed to be on Kincaid land.'
'Did you get lost?'
He shook his head. 'You'll tell.'
'No, I won't tell. What are you doing here, then?'
The child lifted his shoulders in a shrug. 'I like to go hunting. My name's Lindsay.'
'And what is your clan's name?'
'Lindsay,' he repeated. 'You speak Gaelic, but you sound different. You aren't wearing the Kincaid plaid, either.'
'I'm English.'
His eyes widened.
'I'm Alec Kincaid's wife, Lindsay,' she explained. 'How old are you?'
'Nine, this summer.'
'Your mother will be looking for you, I would think.'
