Chapter 20
Jostled and bounced most unpleasantly, Heather’s concerns were more concentrated upon the bruises she would have when Owen finally set her down.
Although, her pride had taken a beating, too.
She did not want to be the weak link in the chain, but Owen would not have been carrying her if he thought she could manage alone.
Should I have stayed at the castle, my love?
We should have suspected there was more to my father’s letter than met the eye.
She cursed herself inwardly for allowing her beloved to put her safety above his own.
If she had remained at Castle Dunn, she would be fine, secure behind those towering walls.
What is my father doing? That was the part she struggled with the most, for though he had always been a difficult sort of man, she did not think him capable of this sort of persecution.
How could he still believe that Owen was the culprit?
Why was he so determined to make Owen the culprit?
Moreover, why was he seeking to punish Edith in the same fashion?
It was not a woman’s fault if she fell in love.
Heather knew that, now, more than anyone.
A final, strange owl hoot cut through the darkness, bringing the group onto a narrow, winding path that seemed to lead nowhere.
It crushed what was left of Heather’s spirit, for what if Edith had decided not to trust them, after all?
What if Edith was protecting herself by leading the group in circles?
“Welcome,” Edith appeared out of nowhere, with her bow slung over her shoulder, revealing a full quiver of arrows that was strapped to her back.
Owen set Heather down, keeping his arm around her waist as she stooped to urge some breath back into her battered lungs. “Welcome to where? I daenae see aught.”
“Then I have done good work,” Edith replied, walking on down the narrow path. She stepped around a mass of tall, overgrown bushes and disappeared once more.
“I think she means for us to follow,” Heather said, rubbing her bruised side as she headed for the spot where Edith had gone. The men followed her more tentatively, with Sawyer and Owen resting their hands on the pommel of their broadswords.
They need not have worried, however, for the tangled bushes concealed a quaint, stone cottage.
Slivers of slate roof poked through a canopy of leaves and bundles of moss, which covered the top of the cottage in a rather splendid camouflage.
Meanwhile, ivy climbed up the stone walls, adding an additional layer of concealment from anyone who might get too close to the protective border of bushes.
Heather found Edith inside, rushing around and stuffing belongings into a large carpet bag.
The items she stowed away did not make much sense: a book, a few small wooden boxes, a collection of bone-handled dirks, some rolled-up papers, a stack of letters that were bound with a ribbon.
Nothing in the way of clothes or provisions, which might have been more expected.
“Apologies for runnin’ like that,” Edith said, once everyone was inside the warmth of the cottage. A fire burned cheerfully in the grate, though Heather had seen no smoke billowing from the top of the cottage. How Edith had managed that, Heather did not know.
Owen moved toward Heather and guided her toward the fireplace, so she might benefit from the heat. “Why did ye nae use the forest path?”
“Soldiers have been pesterin’ me for months, just as William said they might,” Edith explained, as she continued her mad dash to pack her things.
“It’s why we chose this cottage. It was me grandmaither’s once, from when she was cast out of the village for bein’ a witch.
Ye cannae reach it from the path. Ye have to ken where it is. ”
Heather raised her palms to the flickering flames, grateful for the warmth. “William knew you might be in danger?”
“Aye, he didnae want yer faither findin’ out about our marriage, so when I remembered this place, he kent it’d be perfect for us to start our life here.
” Edith threw a few odd-shaped jars into the carpet bag and another stack of letters.
“If ye hadnae followed me guidance, ye might’ve fallen into the countless traps I’ve set along the way. ”
“Traps?” Sawyer choked.
Edith nodded. “It’s the only way to protect meself from them pesky soldiers that keep comin’, but they’ll give up soon enough, once William is home.
” She paused what she was doing and smiled so wide, it nearly broke Heather’s heart.
“He said he’d come straight to me after the war ended, so it cannae be long now.
I heard it was over. That’s why I’ve been guardin’ the entrance to the forest, so I’ll be right there to take him in me arms when I see him, and to stop him steppin’ into any of me traps.
Och, can ye imagine? I’ve waited all this time, just for him to die in one of me traps.
” She laughed and Heather had to turn her face away.
In the fleeting silence, Heather and Owen exchanged a look, and Brandon opened his mouth as if to say something, but Heather shook her head at him. He fell silent, likely realizing it was not his place to tell William’s wife that her husband was never coming home.
Tears were already in Heather’s eyes as she glanced back at Edith, wondering how she would feel if someone told her that Owen was dead. It would devastate her, as it would surely devastate Edith.
“William… is dead, Edith,” Heather murmured, feeling the sting of her own grief. At Dunn Castle, she had tamped it down with distractions and growing sensations of love, but now it was all rising to the surface again.
A jar slipped from Edith’s hand and shattered on the floor. “Pardon?”
“He died. Not in battle but by a killer’s hand.
” Heather’s voice caught in her throat. “We have been trying to search for the culprit, but we have discovered nothing of merit or evidence. All we know is that he was killed by someone from… his own side, after the final battle was already over. They merely used it as a ruse.”
Edith looked like she was about to keel over. “What? Nay… nay, that cannae be—”
“Och, Lass.” Sawyer surged forward and took hold of Edith, helping her to a milking stool nearby. There, he urged her to sit, though he kept a defensive arm around her.
Owen cleared his throat. “Brandon here was yer husband’s dearest friend.
He hasnae rested, tryin’ to find out who did it.
” He glanced at Brandon, and it appeared that all former mistrust had evaporated.
With a sigh, he added what they knew about the letter that William had left with the priest, and the betrayal that had befallen Brandon, William, and that final note.
“William feared this,” Edith rasped: her shoulders shaking as she crumbled into violent sobs. Her hands came up to cover her face, though it did nothing to hold back the tide of tears.
Leaving the warmth of the fire, Heather went to her sister-in-law and crouched in front of her, placing reassuring hands upon the woman’s knees.
“That is why we must take you to Dunn Castle. You will be safe there, but you are not safe here.” She gulped.
“Come with me, Sister. Let us take care of you in your grief.”
For a long while, Edith said nothing. She sat there, hunched over, weeping into her palms until she had no more left to spill.
Though, more would come in the days that stretched ahead of her, without her husband at her side.
There would be no distractions or pleasant feelings to dispel the bitterness of her loss.
In that, Heather knew she had been lucky.
“I’ll kill him,” Edith hissed suddenly, raising her head. “I’ll kill that bastard with me bare hands!”
Misery transformed to anger in the blink of an eye, while bitter tears streamed down her cheeks.
Her hands curled into tight fists, whitening her knuckles, as she shuddered under the weight of her grief.
No fire could ease the tremble, for it came from a chill so deep that nothing but time could bring warmth again.
“Who?” Sawyer asked softly. After all, they still needed to know who had done this to William, and Edith was their last hope of finding out some detail they might have missed.
“Who do ye think?” Edith spat. “The bastard who did this to me husband. The bastard who’s broken me heart in two.”
Brandon cleared his throat. “Do you have any notion of who that might be? Forgive me for asking at such a time as this, but we have no further insight.”
“I… daenae ken.” Edith shook her head, shrinking into herself. “It could be anyone. If word reached a soul about his marriage to me, they’d call him traitor. Is treason nae reason enough to kill a man, these days?”
She made a very valid point, which chilled Heather to the bone.
Would she be called traitor, in turn, for falling in love with Owen?
Was that why her father was so incensed, in case the same thing happened to his daughter that had happened to his son?
She could not think about that now. Edith’s misery and liberty took precedence.
“Blast,” Brandon muttered, under his breath. If Edith had no knowledge to offer, then they really were at the end of the road in the search for William’s killer.
At that moment, a bell jangled. Bemused by the sound, Heather’s attention flitted toward several strings that lay in defined lines across the farthest wall. Tiny bells hung from them, and one line was stretching and bending, as if someone were pulling on it.
“Intruders. They’re here,” Edith whispered, anger and fear twisting her face into a volatile expression.
Heather would not have blamed her for wanting to go out there, to face the Englishmen who were threatening her peace, but she refused to lose a brother and her sister-in-law.
William would have wanted Edith to be safe, no matter what.
Owen jumped up, bracing for action. “Is there a way out of the forest that willnae have us crossin’ paths with those Sassenachs?”
“Aye. I’ll show ye.” Edith stood on shaky legs, supported by Sawyer. “But I’m nae comin’ with ye. I’ll stay here until I’m old and gray, like me grandmaither before me.”
Heather shook her head. “No, Edith. You must come with us. I would know more of the sister that I did not know existed until recently. I would keep you safe, in William’s stead.”
“Aye, and we daenae have time to discuss it,” Owen said, gesturing to Sawyer.
With a look of reluctance, the man-at-arms grappled Edith and threw her over his shoulder, while Owen did the same to Heather.
It was most unceremonious but, with the English practically baying at the door, Heather supposed it could not be helped.
She certainly did not want to slow down their escape, although she sensed that Edith would be more than capable of fleeing on her own two legs.
“I’ll kill ye an’ all for this,” Edith muttered, pounding on Sawyer’s back as they ran for the nearest door. Not the one they had come through, but one that led out of the back.
Sawyer grinned. “I willnae stop ye, but wait until we’ve got ye back to Dunn Castle before ye end me days, eh?”
A truce seemed to form as the party left the cottage, and Brandon—always a step ahead—remembered to swipe up the carpet bag that Edith had been packing. The poor woman must have seen, for she ceased pummeling Sawyer and, instead, began hissing directions into his ear.
Charging through the sodden forest, Heather grimaced at every bump and bounce of Owen’s shoulder, digging into her abdomen. Still, she did not complain. If Edith could be brave, then so could she.
“Do you see anyone?” a voice shouted in the dark. Unmistakably English.
“I can’t see my own hand in front of my face! No, I can’t see anyone!” someone replied, to the grumbling dissent of other voices. The soldiers were closer than Heather had realized.
Nevertheless, the unlikely band of allies raced on, following Edith’s whispers through a perilous labyrinth, peppered with unseen traps.
Everything looked the same to Heather, especially with the shadows and the rain conspiring together, yet Edith appeared to have perfect knowledge of where she was and where she was going.
“There! I see people!” a cry went up, prompting Owen, Brandon, and Sawyer to increase their pace.
Behind them came the telltale crash of soldiers in fiery pursuit. A chase had begun, and all Heather could do was cling onto her beloved and hope that a few of her father’s men fell into Edith’s carefully laid traps.
If not, they would never return to Dunn Castle. Instead, they would find themselves on a journey south, back to the castle that Heather never wished to see again… and to an executioner’s gallows that would take her beloved from her.