They’d been living in a dream pretending they didn’t have anything to fear, when he knew the English were searching for Mari. It wouldn’t be long before they showed up at Dunardry and the war would begin.
She’d killed a duke. The crown would demand justice. Especially when it was a Scottish lass who was to hang for it.
It was long past time for Cam to take her away to safety. He needed to find a new place for them to live. She’d been a duchess, so he wanted to offer her some luxury. Living in the rough, constantly moving, was not an option if they planned to have a family someday.
He’d need to gain a piece of land and build a house. Unfortunately, his soldier’s pay didn’t allow for much. His wife had once lived a life of opulence. While she’d adjusted without complaint to castle life, he couldn’t have his wife living out of a cave.
He frowned up at the sun when it occurred to him that living out of a cave would be far preferable to being hanged.
If she was ever caught, she would be killed.
He must make sure that never happened.
…
Mari dressed quickly and hurried down to the hall as soon as Cam had left. She found Lachlan pacing in front of the fire.
“Are they coming?” she asked after checking the room to make sure Kenna wasn’t there.
“Aye. I got word late last night. I sent Cam away as you asked of me, but I don’t think I can see through on the rest of the plan. Kenna—”
“My sister will be angry, to be sure, but she and your children will be safe, along with the rest of the clan you’re responsible for.” She swallowed, hoping she wouldn’t embarrass herself by being sick again. Her stomach was a knotted mess of worry and fear. “Would you see me out to meet them so they don’t get close to the castle? If you’d rather not, I can go by myself. But I promised Cam I’d not venture beyond the castle walls unescorted by a warrior.”
Lachlan gave a humorless bark of laughter. “I doubt he’ll appreciate your attempt at following his orders, but I’ll not have you face them alone. I will escort you. It’s the very least I can do.”
She nodded and reached into the satchel she’d packed long ago for this eventuality. Pulling out the letters she’d written to everyone, she handed them to her brother-by-marriage. “Will you see that everyone gets my letters?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m ready.”
That was a bald-faced lie. No amount of planning could prepare her for this moment. She had looked at Cam for the last time. She only wished she’d realized how she felt about him before it was too late. Somehow, never saying the words “I love you” seemed her greatest betrayal.
Lachlan bit his lip and shook his head. “I’m not sure I’m ready. You have become my sister in heart, and I truly don’t want to lose you. My children will only remember you from stories, and I fear I will always feel responsible for that loss.”
She hadn’t expected this from the normally practical and hardhearted laird. But she’d known there must be something under his shell that her sister had found appealing and worthy of her love.
Mari gave Lachlan a quick hug and stepped back. “Let us be off.” Before we are not strong enough to go.
…
The English were in the process of breaking camp when Mari and Lachlan arrived.
She wasn’t sure her legs would hold her as he helped her down from the horse.
Sir Ridley came forward with a sly smile on his face. “Didn’t I tell you this would be easy, Felix?” He turned toward a large man. “The Scots claim to be fearless warriors, but they would turn over their own mother if it meant avoiding unpleasantness and claiming a reward.”
The men laughed, and Lachlan released her to take a step forward, his hand on his sword.
She looped her hand through his arm to hold him back. “Don’t. They’re trying to rile you,” she whispered.
“Your Grace,” Sir Ridley said, bowing formally. “We meet again.”
She gave him a single aristocratic nod. Since she wasn’t certain she was calm enough to speak, she handed over her satchel and turned to the laird as Ridley stowed her bag in a waiting carriage.
“I wrote a letter for you as well, my laird,” she said, holding it out to Lachlan.
He scowled at the letter, then snatched it from her fingers. “I don’t think you understand the wrath I’ll face back at Dunardry when your husband and sister find out what I’ve done this morning. This is so wrong. The duke deserved his death for mistreating you so badly.”
“Thank you for your escort, Lachlan. The situation is not fair, but you are doing the right thing as laird. I know what this will cost you, and I’m sorry for it. In time, they will forgive you. I truly believe that.”
He handed over a bag of food. “For your trip. I doubt the bastards will provide for you.” He gave her a fierce hug and stepped back with a firm nod. “It was a pleasure knowing you, my lady. I will tell my children what a brave woman you were.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “Far braver than I.”
With that, he walked back to the horses and mounted. She watched as he rode away with her horse following behind him.
“Your Grace, we are ready to leave for home,” Ridley said, holding the door to the coach with his other arm held out to her, waiting.
Her feet wanted to run away. But the three pistols hanging from his belt made it clear she wouldn’t get far. With another regal nod, she accepted his offer and allowed him to help her inside her dead husband’s coach.
The sun rose as the horses were whipped into movement. She looked back toward the castle and saw the grove of trees and
