Chapter 28
They remained silent during the ride to the castle.
Brice listened intently for sounds of the English.
Only once did they encounter a few, and they hid in the trees until the soldiers passed.
Brice watched helplessly, hating that he had to cower in his own country when they were the intruders, not he.
He hated that a woman had to give birth in the forest, stifling her cries of pain for fear of being caught.
He hated that he had to hide the family in the healer’s home for fear of being arrested.
This was their land, the land they’d all lived on for centuries.
But not anymore. Now everyone had reason to fear the English.
Even Eleanor. How horrible to have to run from your own countrymen.
As soon as they entered the bailey and the portcullis slammed down, Brice breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe for now. Until the next time they had to go out riding. Yet there were many, many out there who weren’t safe, and it was up to him and his men to help them.
Eleanor was standing beside her mount, stretching her neck. Brice grabbed her hand and dragged her around the side of the castle and into the deep shadows. He pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard. When he pulled away, they were both breathless.
“What was that for?” she asked.
He shrugged, unable to put into words his fear and his sadness and his love for this woman who had brought a babe into the world in the worst of circumstances.
She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. “Well, you can do that any time you please, even if you don’t know why you’re doing it.” He grinned down at her, but her smile slipped away and her brows furrowed in a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He looked away because he knew she could see all of the unspoken words in his eyes.
Gently she held his chin and turned his face back to her. “It’s not nothing.”
“I love ye, Eleanor.”
Her gaze softened and tears welled in her eyes. “I love you, too, Brice.”
He hugged her tightly to him. “I’ll no’ know what to do without ye,” he whispered into her hair.
Her arms came around him and they held each other tightly, hearts breaking.
Until she pulled away and wiped her wet cheeks.
They looked at each other, but there were no words to make this right, so they took each other’s hand and walked back to the front of the castle and into the great hall, where Hannah had a hot meal waiting for them.
“Come,” Brice said, standing and holding a hand out after Eleanor had eaten most of her meal. “Ye’re falling asleep in yer soup. ’Tis time for bed.”
She stood and put her hand in his, practically stumbling up the steps. “Do you think they are doing well?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Morna and the baby.”
“Cait is a fine healer, even if she is a Campbell.”
“But by marriage, so that makes it better,” Eleanor said, and Brice smiled.
“Apparently I’ve said that before.”
“A few times.”
They entered his chambers, not even holding to the farce that Eleanor was residing in the lady’s chambers.
They had too little time left to mince about.
If he could, he would wed her now, but that was impossible for many reasons.
First of all, he couldn’t reveal that she was residing here, so he couldn’t tell a priest her real name.
Second of all, he wasn’t about to tie her down when they had to be separated in six days.
So he would take what he could get and hold everything in his memory.
She shed her clothes and climbed into the bed naked.
She was fast asleep before Brice managed to get his boots off.
He curled his body around hers and pulled the blankets up, but it was a long while before he fell asleep.
He lay there watching her, running his hand down the silk of her hair and fighting the panic rising every time he thought about saying goodbye to her.
—
Eleanor woke before Brice but lay still, her body tucked up in his arms. He slept deeply, his chest rising and falling, his breathing not quite a snore but edging close to it.
From what she could tell, it was light outside, maybe close to the noon hour. They’d stayed up until nearly dawn.
She thought back to the events of the night, still overwhelmed and awed by what she had done.
She’d delivered a baby, brought a little life into the world.
Of course, the mother had something to do with it, but it had been Eleanor’s hands that the babe had slithered into, and it had been the most miraculous thing she’d ever seen.
Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.
She hoped that someday she could bring a child into this world, but she wanted it to be Brice’s. No one else’s. She wanted a son with dark blond hair and sky blue eyes.
Reality came crashing back when she realized they could never be the family she longed for. She loved him so much, and he loved her. How tragic that nothing could come of their love.
He opened his eyes and smiled at her, and she smiled back.
“Heavy thoughts,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.
“Just thinking about last night.”
“The babe was lucky ye were there.” His expression turned stern. “Although ye disobeyed my orders and were no’ at my side like ye were supposed to be.”
“Good thing I wasn’t.”
He grunted, but she could tell he wasn’t as upset as he pretended to be.
“How do you do it?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“How do you see all of these people enter and leave your life forever and not feel something?”
“I can’t let myself feel anything. If I did, then I would forever be torn up, and I have too much to do to allow that.”
“It seems so sad.”
“No’ sad. Ye have to think of it as a happy occasion. They’re given a chance to start over, to create a whole new life. They have no future here, but in Canada they can create whatever they want.”
“Don’t you want to rail at the English for all they’ve done and everything they’ve taken away?”
“Aye. There are times when it becomes overwhelming, but what good would it do to let it overtake me? Anger wastes the energy I need for more productive pursuits. Do ye think the English will stop just because I rail and gnash my teeth?”
“But it makes me so angry, Brice. I want to do something about it.”
“Ye are. Ye’re thwarting them even if they don’t know it. They can’t torture and arrest if they have no one to torture and arrest.”
“It still doesn’t seem right.”
“Because it’s no’ right. I never said it was.”
She smiled at him. “Last night was exhilarating.”
He groaned and threw a hand over his eyes. “I knew ye would think so. This does no’ bode well for me.”
She punched him playfully in the arm. “Now that I have a taste for excitement, you won’t be able to stop me.”
“That’s my fear.”
She rested her fist on his chest and put her chin on her fist to look at him. “I wish I could stay and help you with the Staran. I’d be good at it. I know how to deliver a baby now.”
“Good God, I hope that never happens again.”
Eleanor chuckled. “Oh, Brice, it was so exhilarating and miraculous. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“I would no’ be lying if I told ye that I’m glad it was ye who was there for it and no’ me. I’m no’ sure I could have done what needed to be done.”
“You would have been fine. I was scared to death, but I did it.”
He rolled to his side so they were face-to-face. “Ye are miraculous yerself, Eleanor.” She tried to wave his words away, but he captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “I mean it. Ye’ve changed so much since ye first came here. I’m proud of ye, lass.”
His words warmed her. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“I thank ye for yer help last night. I must admit that having a woman on the trail with us was beneficial.”
“You need a woman on the trail with you all the time.”
“Ach, but I think ye want to kill me.”
She laughed and propped her head up on her hand, suddenly serious. “I would stay and help you.”
The laughter faded from his eyes. “And forever be looking over yer shoulder for Blackwood?”
“He has to leave Scotland at some point.”
“No’ necessarily.” He paused, and she could tell he wanted to say something more. “I don’t understand that man. Why is he so intent on finding ye?”
Just the thought of Blackwood made Eleanor’s stomach churn. “Because I know the ‘proof’ he has of Charles’s treason charges is false. And because, for some strange reason, he wants to marry me.”
Brice thought for a moment. “After Charles’s death, what happened to Blackwood?”
“He was promoted to Charles’s position…” She looked at him in surprise. “You don’t think he created the false documents and accused Charles so he could be promoted, do you?”
“I think there is more to this Blackwood than we believe.”
Eleanor sat up to stare at Brice. She was as naked as the day she was born, and he couldn’t help but look at her beautiful breasts. Now was not the time, but they were powerfully magnificent.
“What are you saying?” she asked breathlessly.
“Ye know the accusations were false. Why do ye think he went to all that trouble?”
“I…” Her eyes lost focus, and he could tell she was thinking back to that terrible time. “I guess I always thought that he wanted me, so he took Charles out of the picture.”
“I believe ye’re right, but I also believe that his mission was two-pronged. Tell me about yer family.”
She focused on him. “My family? What does that have to do with it?”
“Tell me about them. Is yer father a powerful man?”
She wrinkled her nose in an altogether adorable way that made him want to lean forward and kiss it. “He’s a marquis,” she said.
“Would Blackwood’s marriage to ye elevate him socially?”
She considered before nodding. “Yes. Blackwood is the fourth son. He has no title as yet, but I’m sure after Culloden, he will be awarded one.
” Her lips twisted, and he could tell she didn’t like that thought any more than he did.
Was it possible that he was turning this Sasannach into a Highlander?
“But his new title would no’ open doors that yer father could open for him?”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “The bastard,” she whispered. “He killed Charles and thought I would fall into his arms in grief, and he would then marry me to get to my father.”
Brice took her hand again. “I’m sorry, lass.”
She pulled her hand away and clutched it in her lap. He could practically see her mind working; she looked furious.
“Eleanor—”
She shook her head, a quick jerk that told him she didn’t want his touch at the moment. “Charles was an innocent in all of this. Just an obstacle in Blackwood’s path to get to me.”
“And ultimately yer father.”
“And now I don’t have a husband or a home or my family to go to, all because Blackwood is greedy.”
“Ye can go home and tell yer father what he is about.” The words nearly killed him, but he far preferred she go to England than Canada.
“I have no proof. He could deny all of it and call me a grieving widow who is touched in the head.”
Brice lightly ran his fingers over the scars on her wrist. “Ye have this proof.”
She quickly covered her scars, like she did every time he brought attention to them. “I know he has people watching my family. You don’t understand how powerful he is. How do I approach them without his men taking me?”
Brice highly doubted that Blackwood was as powerful as Eleanor feared, but he wasn’t completely certain.
Maybe she was right. Maybe he did have men watching her family, ready to take her if need be.
Blackwood was driven by greed. There was a dark part inside of him.
Nothing else could explain why a man would imprison a woman the way Blackwood had imprisoned Eleanor.
Yet he could see the hope in her eyes. Hope that she was afraid to feel. Either way, Brice lost in this. Eleanor would return to England and the protection of her powerful family, or she would go to Canada. In each instance she would be far out of his reach. But also far out of Blackwood’s reach.