Chapter Seven #2
Eva caught up to him and called out. He noticed her overlarge satchel and eyed her skeptically but decided he would allow her to bring whatever she’d put in the baggage.
His wife tested his patience but since she was leaving her home, he’d give in to her, if only to show her that he could be reasonable.
“Breckin, can my maid come? She has looked after me since I was young and I cannot do without her. Her name is Luella and she is—”
He shook his head.
“But why? Surely you will not refuse my need for a maid. Will you please cease shaking your head? Surely, a maid will not inconvenience you.”
“Outsiders are not permitted on my land.” It was all the answer he would give.
Breckin busied himself with tying her packs to her horse, a cream-colored mount with brown speckles.
The horse was unlike any he’d ever seen and its kind had to come from across the channel.
But then, Lord Scott was a trader and probably had acquired the horse from a breeder.
Its value must be high given its confirmation and coloring.
“I am an outsider,” she said, softly. “Perhaps I should stay here and…”
Her words trailed off when he shook his head again.
“Nay, Eva, ye are my wife, not an outsider. Now, here, take the reins of your horse. I hope to make good ground before it gets too dark to travel.” Breckin handed her the horse’s reins and mounted his own horse.
He rode ahead and didn’t look back. Once he was through the gate, he slowed his progress so she could catch up to him.
She kept a slow pace behind him and he gave a side glance to ensure she followed.
Eva was irked, given the daggers in her eyes and the pout of her bonny lips.
He felt the hotness of her stare on him and though he wanted to chuckle, he kept his expression devoid of his mirth.
Breckin did not know how to abate her ire.
She’d release her anger once they were well enough away from her home.
*
His wife was furious with him. Throughout the ride to the Highlands, she spoke not a word, not even to make a complaint.
Breckin tried to make small talk with her, but she wasn’t having it.
When he asked her if she needed to rest, she’d either nod or shake her head.
He hadn’t heard her bonny voice for days.
With a sigh, he stopped earlier that evening so they could rest and make an early start on the morrow.
By nightfall next, they would reach his land and he was never so happy to be close to home.
There, he’d part ways with his surly wife and allow her to be for a time.
Sooner or later, she would accept her fate and then, perhaps, him.
He set a tartan on the ground in front of a large crag that would shelter them from the strong winds.
The day grew chillier but at least it hadn’t rained.
As soon as he set the cover for her, she sat wearily upon it and rummaged through her satchel.
She pulled out a small loaf of wheat bread and tore a piece off for herself.
He could hope that she’d offer him some but he wouldn’t hold his breath.
Breckin scrounged the area for small logs and twigs so he might light a fire.
Even though they were on Stewart land, he wasn’t too worried about being attacked.
His relations with the Stewart clan wasn’t close at the moment but there was no cause for them to attack him.
He would have kept riding but Eva appeared tired and besides, he wanted to spend a little time with her before they arrived at his keep.
Somehow, he would get her to talk to him… and then a notion came to him.
After he set the logs and kindling, he retrieved the flint from his satchel and within a moment, had the dried grass lit with flame. The fire took hold and brightened the area where they had made camp. She shifted closer to the warmth.
“There is a small stream yonder if ye wish to wash,” he said and motioned in the direction of the water.
She knelt and then rose. “I do. Have you a flask? I will get us some water.”
He handed her his empty flask and turned back to his horse. Breckin found a good spot where new grass sprouts covered a small area and began to hobble them so they’d stay close by. The horses immediately lowered their heads and nibbled on the shoots.
“If you want some bread, help yourself,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away.
His head snapped around to watch her leave.
Breckin grinned at hearing her voice. She did care about him and wouldn’t let him go hungry.
At least, there was hope for them yet. While he waited for her return, he retrieved his small bow and a handful of arrows.
He’d do a little hunting and perhaps kill something for their supper.
She returned and sat down upon his tartan. With her eyes on him, she clasped her bent legs and held her knees. “Are you going to…”
He nodded, surmising what she was going to ask. “Aye, I will not go far. If ye need me, just call out. I hope to hunt something for our supper. Ye are hungry?”
Her chin bobbed slowly. “Then I will rest whilst you are gone. Is it safe here?”
“Aye, safe enough.” Breckin left her and walked quickly toward a copse of trees in the distance, not too far away.
As he crouched down in wait for a rabbit or small creature, he grinned to himself.
She could not stay angry with him. Likewise, he couldn’t stay angry with her.
Somehow, Breckin needed to think of a way to make amends and call a truce betwixt them.
He didn’t want her anger, he wanted the coy and sweet gazes she’d given him on their wedding night.
A rabbit emerged from a thicket to nibble on grasses near the base of a tree.
He quickly positioned an arrow and let it loose.
The arrow pierced the animal and it fell where it had stood.
The rabbit was large enough to feed him and Eva, so he decided to forego hunting and hastened back to camp.
As he neared, the sound of a horse alerted him that riders approached, and as they crested the rise and emerged from the woods, Breckin looked to see that his wife was still sleeping under the rocky outcropping before he recognized his one-time ally.
“William, ’tis ye there,” he greeted the leader of the Stewart clan.
“Breckin, my sentry reported riders and so I thought to ensure no marauders intended to attack us. Ye are usually surrounded by a sentry of Buchanan warriors. Do ye travel alone?” William removed his helmet and fanned back the strands of his brown hair.
Breckin shook his head and pointed at Eva who lay upon the cover. She seemed to be sleeping and had her eyes closed. He set down his kill and bow and walked to William.
“Who is she?” William asked when his dark eyes shifted to Eva.
“My wife.” Breckin wasn’t about to say more. “I will not linger on your land and will be gone early on the morrow. We are just passing through.”
William dismounted from his horse and stood nearby.
“Naught to worry about, my friend. It has been some time since we last met. I wanted to tell ye how sorry I was about Marian’s death and should have attended her burial but clan matters kept me away.
I still hurt from the loss, as I am sure ye do. ”
The loss? The man presumed to be his comrade but on the day of his sister’s burial, he’d proved what a good friend he’d been. That he hadn’t shown for her entombment told him all he needed to know about William Stewart.
“My clan continues to mourn her.”
“As ye should.” William settled his hands on his waist and peered at him.
Breckin kept his expression from showing his temper at the man’s admission.
His now-rival had been betrothed to his sister when she’d died.
Reverently, he should have come to pay his respects to a woman he supposedly loved, but he hadn’t.
Apparently, William hadn’t considered Marian important enough to forgo his duty to his clan.
Now, Breckin had no wish to be neighborly and he certainly didn’t want to talk about his sister.
William motioned to his men to stay back. “Whilst I have ye here, I should tell ye that I married Danella MacLaren. Her brother approached me about an alliance. Danella coveted the union and so we took our vows last year.”
Breckin tried not to react to William’s news.
He’d married Breckin’s former betrothed last year?
The MacLarens had only just rescinded their pact when they made their offer to the Stewarts then.
Rage shot through him like hot fire. Not that he begrudged the man any happiness, but Danella was supposed to have married him.
That her clan called off the marriage infuriated him because there had been no cause to do so.
Even though, at the time, Breckin had considered the matter insignificant, it now made him wonder what caused the MacLarens to change their minds and why they’d offered Danella to William Stewart instead.
Their alliance gave him a slight concern but really, the Buchanans could handle any hostility from either clan.
“I do not want animosity betwixt our clans, Breckin, which is why I tell ye of this now. I should have come sooner and met with ye and told ye long ago. Och, Danella wanted to keep the news quiet for a while. Laird MacLaren’s son came to me with the offer and ye know that I needed to form an alliance.
We are allied now but that does not mean that we are against ye. ”
Bollocks, Breckin thought. The day the MacLarens called off his betrothal to their daughter was the day they became rivals.
And if the Stewarts thought the Buchanans feared them, William had to be dimwitted.
The Buchanan warriors could easily crush their forces, both the Stewarts and the MacLarens.
He certainly didn’t need them as allies and wouldn’t even consider such an offer if one was put to him.