Chapter 11
Far as the eye could see, everything looked gray and grumpy, nothing but miles and miles of bleak landscape and angry gray clouds that were determined to drop their wet burden on anyone foolish enough to be out on such a drizzly day. Well, what is a little rain after all I’ve been through? wondered Meleri.
After leaving the smithy’s shop, Meleri found she was having more difficulty walking through the deep mire than she did when they arrived. She was relieved when Hugh appeared beside her and took her arm. “Hurry along, lass. The sooner we are off, the sooner we will arrive.”
A deep and insightful thought, she decided, trying her best not to laugh, but there was no way to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up. She continued to walk beside him through the puddles and muck, holding on to his arm, praying she did not fall, as she trudged along. By this point, she did not bother trying to hold up her skirts. As wet as they were, they were far too heavy and her arms too tired for her to care about a little more mud. Her lovely new riding habit was ruined, but as Robert said, not her spirits. She glanced down at the ragged edge of her hem and the torn piping that banded it, unable to tell that it had once been shiny and gold.
Pomp and circumstance! What she would not give for a hot bath and one of the lovely dresses she had at home. While she was wishing, she might as well add the rest of her desires—a warm meal, the wet shoes and stockings off her feet and a soft, sweet-smelling nightgown to roll up in before she went to sleep.
Ahead of her, Robert walked through mire and over puddles, as easily as if he were crossing dry ground. She studied the way he moved, deciding she liked the fluid way the parts of his body were inclined to cooperate with one another. He looked every bit as good from the back as he did from the front. In fact, he was equally pleasing to the eye from any direction. He was a striking figure, tall, strong, imposing, and she was suddenly reminded that she was more than a little angry with him for charging off and leaving her to Hugh, once again.
She saw her horse waiting patiently just ahead and dreaded, more than she could ever imagine, the very thought of having to mount and ride endlessly over more rough, inhospitable terrain. She was tired, sore, and she felt horribly unattractive, none of which did anything for her disposition. How she wished they would stop at an inn, where she could do more than simply flex the tired muscles in her cramped legs.
She said nothing, of course. After all, Robert thought she had mettle, moral strength and a host of other fine attributes, and she did not want to do anything to change his opinion of her.
Unable to help herself, she stole one more furtive look in Robert’s direction and found him watching her. Their gazes locked and she could feel the searing intensity of attraction that ran between them.
“Where do you plan to meet up with us?” Hugh asked.
“I haven’t decided.”
“How far is it to your home, to Beloyn Castle?” Meleri asked.
“We could make it in less than four hours,” Hugh answered. “But, with you along, it will take closer to five.”
She stopped stiffly and said to Hugh, “Don’t alter your pace for me. I can ride hard and fast, if need be. Proceed as you normally would and don’t be surprised if I pass you by. My father always said I could ride as well as any man.”
“A statement that had you overflowing with confidence, I would imagine.”
She glanced around at the sound of Robert’s voice. It was a surprise when he appeared quite suddenly beside her and took her by the arm. When they reached their horses, he turned her toward him and put his hands at her waist. When he was about to lift her into the saddle, she placed a detaining hand against his chest. “I would ask a favor of you before you depart.”
Robert searched her face for a moment. She thought him far too arrogant and self-assured. She knew he was aware he made her uncomfortable, and still he would not look away. At last, when she did not think she could stand another minute of his scrutiny, he said, “And what favor would that be, lass?”
“I would like to stop by the home of my former nanny, Agnes Milbank. She is a widow and it is my hope to convince her to accompany me to Scotland.”
Hugh whistled. “A lass with her own reinforcements. I like the sound of that. Ought to make things more interesting.”
“No,” Robert said.
“Aw, Robbie, don’t be so quick to decide. Can’t you see your lass is in need of a little moral support? I think she is afraid of you.”
The vivid blue eyes darkened and narrowed on her. “As she should be.”
Meleri swallowed hard and, with a defiant lift of her head, returned his stare with a narrow one of her own, which brought a hearty chuckle from Hugh, who said, “A lass who gives as good as she gets. Bless my weary bones, but I am actually beginning to enjoy this little jaunt of ours.”
Without further comment, Robert lifted her high in the air and placed her on her horse. While she settled herself, he mounted his great black beast, who showed no signs of tiring after so long a ride.
Meleri wondered if his slowness to respond was another test. Not that it mattered. She knew now was the time to stand her ground, to match him, meet him, or even beat him, if and whenever she could. If she did not establish this feeling of equality before they were married, she would never gain it once she said “I do.”
Hugh kept prodding his brother. “What can it hurt? It can’t be more than an hour’s ride or so to her nanny’s home.”
“I would be careful if I were you,” Robert warned his brother. “Keep applying liniment to my raw places and I’ll give her over to your care…indefinitely.”
Hugh shrugged. “Can’t see how I could do any worse than you.”
Meleri watched Robert as Hugh spoke on her behalf. A wide range of emotion showed on his face—irritation, puzzlement and frustration—they were all present, and she could not help but wonder why.
She decided to try again. With confident ease, she guided her mare to the place where he sat upon his horse like a great black hawk ready to swoop down upon the nearest thing that moved. She stopped close beside him and tilted her head back, so she could look him in the eye. “I know how you must feel, what you must be thinking.”
His eyes narrowed, and she felt the frozen shaft of accusation stab into her. “You cannot possibly know. If you did, you would hie yourself away from me and the fate that awaits you.”
A wave of loneliness swept over her at the thought of leaving, and not because she had no place to go, although that was certainly true. She was convinced now that Philip would find her before long, even if she went to stay with Agnes. Robert’s home was the only place she could hide and be safe. Besides, she reminded herself, she and this grim Scot had made a bargain, and she intended to see that they stood by it.
Both of them.
“Let her bring her nanny with her,” Hugh said, “or we will be here all night, while the two of you butt heads like two Highland sheep. If you think she is such a pain in the arse, let her have her nanny. That way, she can annoy someone of her own kind, and she won’t be getting under your feet all the time, cute as a speckled pup with a fondness for shoe-chewing.”
“You are fairly brimming with hope and confidence.”
Hugh stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and put on an innocent look that Meleri bet he worked on a great deal in order to perfect it as he had. “Hope and confidence is about all a second son is entitled to.”
Robert did not say anything. Meleri had never been more conscious of how he towered over her. He was an impressive figure of a man, the rain running down his face, the residue of doubt still apparent in his expression that looked as bleak as granite. She found it odd, but there was something sustaining about him—in the way the rain darkened his skin and ran in rivulets along the wet skeins of his hair—as a mountain is substantial: strong, solid, stable. She did not know how she knew, but she was convinced this man was everything she would ever want in a husband. And to think she had stumbled upon him…or over him, if one wanted to be precise. Well, she thought, if he won’t give way and come to me, then I will go to him. “If you don’t want to grant me a favor, how about we strike a bargain?”
“Aside from your horse and your dress, you don’t have anything to bargain with.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Hugh said. “Take away her horse and her dress, and I’d say she would have plenty.”
“Enough!” Then with a dismissing wave of his hand, Robert turned his horse away and said, “Take her to find her nanny if it pleases you. Be forewarned, however, that if you do, I hold you responsible. Once you have located the nanny, bring both of them with you, and you better pray to whatever deity you have influence with that you arrive with her in tow.”
Hugh was grinning at Meleri when he asked Robert, “Where shall we meet you?”
“I’ll make camp near the fork in the river and wait for you there.”
As he rode off, Meleri watched him go, feeling as if she had just been handed a victory.
“Come, lass, we had best be off.”
The rain was coming down harder now, pelting them with drops that seemed to come faster and harder as time progressed. It showed no signs of letting up. The sky overhead was dark, and the air carried a chill that blew down from the gaunt hills in the distance.
They stopped once to ask directions to the home of Agnes Mil-bank and discovered she lived farther away than they expected. They had to cross back over the border into England again, but thankfully, the cottage was a short ride after that. As they rode, Meleri’s mind was aflutter. She could not stop worrying. It was certainly possible that Philip could be behind them—and he would stay clear of the main roads, riding through dripping trees and along swiftly flowing streams, fed by the runoff from the rain, just as they were doing.
Meleri stroked the neck of her horse. Poor beast, she had never been ridden so hard or so far, and certainly not through terrain such as this. Both of their horses were tired from trudging forward at such a difficult pace. The soggy turf sucked at their hooves and drained what little energy that remained in overworked muscles. After going to such lengths, what if Agnes was not at home, or chose not to accompany them?
As it turned out, her luck had improved over the way it began the day, for Agnes was not only at home, she was elated at the prospect of going with them.
“An answer to prayer delivered in person!” she exclaimed. “Oh, milady, I cannot think of anything that would give me more pleasure. Since my husband died, ’tis been beyond dull here.”
Agnes packed up a few of her belongings to bring with her, then put the rest out to pack in her big trunk to send with a driver and wagon to Beloyn Castle. While Agnes packed, Hugh made arrangements with a neighbor, who agreed to deliver her trunk.
Once everything was in order, Agnes and Meleri waited on the small porch, while Hugh fetched a horse for Agnes to ride. He soon came trotting around the corner of the house, leading a small mare. After dismounting, he helped Agnes into the saddle.
“I assume you know how to ride.”
She nodded and took the reins. “My father was a groom. I grew up with my own pony, although that was a long time ago. Still, I think I am up to the challenge.”
Apparently, that satisfied Hugh, for he gave her a boost into the saddle. When he saw Meleri was already sitting astride her horse, he swung up onto the back of his and the three of them set off.
Meleri turned quite talkative and began to tell Agnes about everything that had happened. She did not care if Hugh listened, boring though it would be, since he already knew all the details. Once she started talking, however, Hugh appeared to have all the woman’s talk he wanted for one day, and he urged his horse forward to ride just ahead. They watched him for a moment before Meleri picked up where she left off with her story. When she reached the part about her “near marriage” at Gretna Green, she could not help asking, “Why do you suppose he felt it necessary to test me? Don’t you find that a bit odd?”
“Not at all, milady. He was simply being cautious. After all, he is taking you home with him. You can imagine, can you not, how he would feel if he discovered you never intended to marry him, that you only wanted safe passage out of England?”
“You’re right. I never thought of it that way. Of course he had to be certain. He is a very proud man.”
“I am sure he figured if you would marry him in Gretna Green, you would marry him anywhere.”
“Faith! ’Tis true, Agnes. I would gladly marry him anywhere, save Gretna. I have never seen a more wretched spot in my life—certainly no woman’s dream of the place she would choose for her wedding. The best part about it was leaving. I am truly thankful to him for sparing me the indignity of being married there.”
“He seems to be a wise and just man. He must have known such a wedding would not be every woman’s dream. However, you must admit, it would have been easiest for him.”
“I do wish I knew when he planned for us to marry.”
Agnes smiled. “So anxious to marry a stranger? He must be quite a man.”
Meleri’s face lit up. “Oh, he is that, but you know I would never be so forward if it were not for a good reason.”
“And that good reason has united us once again and we are on our way to live in Scotland.”
At that reminder, Meleri took a long, surveying look around her. “I can tell we are no longer in England. Even the land here seems harsher and more unforgiving.” She felt a chill ripple along her spine. “The closer we get to where we are supposed to meet, the less accepting I become. I am filled with both a sense of awe and horrifying dread, at the merest thought of facing him again. He is a wild Scot, you must remember. He does not have the centuries of culture and refinement bred into him as does an English lord.”
Agnes laughed. “Good! I cannot imagine you married to a stuffy English lord who dresses like a dandy and has no more difficult decisions facing him each day than the choosing of his snuffbox. However, you should be optimistic, milady. Any man can be domesticated by a zealous woman.”
“Not if she has red hair,” Meleri said woefully. “You, of all people, should remember how easily my zeal can turn to anger.” Meleri took a deep breath. “However, you will notice that I am determined to remain cheerful and optimistic.”
After a pace the Roman army would have found exhausting, they slowed the horses enough to ride, single file, across a narrow stream. Riding just ahead of her, on a much smaller mount, Agnes bounced around a bit, but it was obvious she was quite adept at riding, in spite of not having done it for some time. Once they were on the other side, she turned to see how Agnes was faring and found her nanny was smiling brightly, her head bobbing with each step, obviously enjoying herself and making the most of her adventure.
Hugh slowed his pace and they caught up to him. “We need to liven our step a bit if we are to meet Robert on schedule.”
“What will happen if we don’t?” Meleri asked.
He answered with a laugh. “Whatever happens, he will stop short of murder.”
“If you are trying to frighten me, it isn’t working.”
“You’re an independent lass, opinionated and of strong disposition.”
“I happen to like my disposition.”
“I would hope so. I’d hate to think anyone went to such lengths to be stubborn when they didn’t like being that way.”
They came to a fork in the stream and her heart gave a thudding lurch, for she could see Robert had made camp a short distance away, in a glen divided by a narrow trickle that fed into the larger stream. A stand of trees crowded down to the water’s edge on the far side, but on the camp’s side it was all clear land.
The men spread plaids for the women near an outcropping of rocks. Robert had already gathered wood and built up a fire by the time they arrived. While he and Hugh talked, Agnes and Meleri went down to the stream to wash, but after poking a finger in the frigid water, they decided to forgo cleanliness for warmth.
They returned to camp, sat on their plaids and waited to see what would happen next. They were sitting a short distance away, content to observe the brothers quietly. “He is a handsome devil, milady,” Agnes said, after watching Robert for some time.
“I don’t find him terribly handsome in that slick English way, but he is very appealing to me, and all man. I have heard tell that the blood of dragons flows in their veins, and we have both heard dozens of stories about Hadrian’s Wall and why it was built to keep those barbarians out of England.”
“That was a long time ago, milady.”
“Blood will tell.”
“I find Hugh is pleasing to look upon, as well.”
“Hugh is charming and obviously fond of the ladies, but he does not have the strength of purpose or the leadership qualities that Robert possesses. You can see by Robert’s bearing that there is something different about him, something that has tempered him like the finest steel. They are both handsome, but I can fairly give Hugh the edge there. However, I believe a man’s appearance is the least part of him. I would rather have a man who understood me than one who possessed all the attributes of a Greek god. I do so despair that there will never be a man who understands me, Agnes.”
“Hmm,” Agnes said. “He reminds me a bit of my grandfather. He was a Scot, you know, and a more superstitious man never lived. His name was Seamus MacDougal. I spent many an evening on his knee, hearing tales of bogles and kelpies, monsters, ghosts and second sight.”
“That shows what a foolish lot they are,” Meleri said, and had the strangest feeling that someone, somewhere heard her say it, for she would have sworn she heard a man’s eerie laugh. The thought had no more than occurred to her when a thick, greenish mist suddenly surrounded her. She blinked, and when her eyes focused, she saw a sturdily built man of medium height, with dark hair and a stern countenance. He was also very familiar. However, it was his eyes that mesmerized her, eyes that were blue—darkly, deeply, beautifully blue.
They were Robert’s eyes.
However, this man was not Robert. Who are you, she wanted to ask, but the words jammed in her throat and she could not make herself speak. Her heart began to hammer and she felt herself growing warm. She was afraid she was going to faint, and she closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them the man, and the mist, were gone.
“Milady? Are you all right?”
“What? Yes, I am fine. I had a spell of dizziness, nothing more. What were we talking about?”
“Monsters, kelpies and ghosts, milady.”
“Ghosts,” she repeated, feeling a sudden chill of drafty cold blow over her. She dismissed it. She was tired. That is all it was. She rubbed her head, feeling quite dazed. For some strange reason, she felt as if someone were watching her. “Yes, I remember I said the Scots were foolish for believing in such…”
“Not so foolish. It is not only the Scots who believe. Don’t be forgetting that there are many in Northumberland who still believe in brownies.”
“Yes,” she said slowly, “and a lot of good it did me to believe in brownies, or anything else.”
Agnes smiled. “Your life is far from over milady. You are still quite young. Your life is only beginning.”
“Oh, Agnes, I have never felt so old, so old and weary—truly I feel as if my life is over,” Meleri said, not caring that she was the picture of abject misery.
“It is understandable. Your life is changing in a multitude of ways. You are apprehensive and uncertain. I think you will be much better when you reach your new home. You will feel more secure. I, for one, am looking forward to our new life. And I cannot thank you enough for bringing me along with you.”
Meleri barely heard. Inside, she was at sixes and sevens, terrified to go through with everything that was happening, yet at the same time, just as terrified to set foot on English soil, ever again. She saw the look of apprehension on Agnes’s face and she forced a smile. “Don’t worry, Agnes. Everything will be fine, I am certain.”
Agnes cast a glance in Robert’s direction. “If you were going to marry a stranger, you certainly lucked upon a good one. However did you find him?”
“We ran into each other.”
Agnes smiled. “Knowing you, milady, I imagine that means you ran him down.”