Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
His anger fading somewhat at the reminder of her terrible predicament, Malcolm locked eyes with Catriona’s. Strain showed in her pale, dirt-smeared face as well as in her gaze. But he was sure he detected a hint of approval in her look as well, which surprised him.
“Thank ye fer savin’ me.”
Her small and raw voice touched something deep inside him, though he could not have said what exactly. The feeling made him uneasy, so he brushed it aside, along with her words. Determined not to be appeased, he grunted.
“I promised Duncan I’d fetch ye and bring ye back safe, whatever it takes.”
She shot him an odd look, then nodded. “Aye, well, thank ye anyway.”
“Let’s go.”
He quickly checked the way was clear before leading her steadily yet stealthily along the winding pathways, heading for the orchard.
They reached the corner of a hedge bordering a field of cows. Malcolm stopped and dropped into a crouch among the tangled grass and wildflowers. Now, the light of the almost full moon was more visible, as the smoke had cleared.
“Try and keep yer head down, will ye?” he whispered, pulling her down next to him. “If Sinclair’s men spot us, we’re done fer.”
“I’m tryin’ me best,” she murmured, her hand still gripping his tightly as if she would never let go.
It mollified him slightly because it suggested that she might trust him a bit after all.
Nonetheless, he had not forgotten how she had insulted him by joining in the fight and he did not intend to let her get away with it.
But right now, getting her away safely was the vital thing. “The hedge will give us some cover while we move, but we still havetae be careful. Stick close tae me.”
Without waiting for a response, keeping low and close to the hedge, he began moving them forward, relieved she was following his instructions.
That’s an improvement. But still...
“Ye disobeyed me orders back there. I told ye tae run tae the orchard until I came tae get ye,” he said gruffly, not looking at her. “By daein’ that, ye risked both our lives and me friendship with yer braither. I could have finished that soldier off much quicker if ye hadnae interfered.”
“I was tryin’ tae help ye,” she hissed back indignantly.
“Have ye forgotten Sinclair’s men are searchin’ fer ye? If ye’d obeyed me orders in the first place, we could have been out of here by now,” he countered.
“I doubt it,” she muttered. “Dinnae blame me for yer mistakes. Ye should have killed him sooner. Then ye would nae have needed me help.”
Malcolm gasped at her ingratitude, his masculine pride smarting. He glared back at her, a storm of rebuke on the tip of his tongue. She glared back at him defiantly with large green eyes. By a supreme effort of will, he bit it back the angry words.
It daesnae matter what she says or thinks of me, he thought, firmly pushing the turmoil she stirred in him down. I’m daein’ this fer Duncan’s sake. I only havetae spend a short time with her, so I shouldnae let her get under me skin.
Hardening his resolve not to be provoked and to focus on the mission in hand, he merely said, “Let’s move.”
Soon, they came to a section where the hedge thinned slightly, and Malcom caught sight of a man walking down the track that ran horizontally across their path.
“Get down,” he whispered urgently to Catriona, flattening himself against the ground and waving his hand for her to follow suit. Thankfully, she threw herself down beside him without argument.
“Is it a soldier?” she whispered, her voice edged with fear.
“Nay,” Malcolm said, breathing in inward sigh of relief. “’tis a farm hand by the looks of him. But he’s comin’ down the track up ahead. If he looks this way he might see us. I cannae trust that he willnae give us away. Stay very, very still until he’s gone.”
They both held their breath as they watched the farm hand strolling down the track.
Tense moments passed slowly, with Malcolm’s heart thumping in his chest, the only other sounds the lowing of the cows, birdsong, and Catriona’s low panting near his ear.
He became aware that her warm breath was softly tickling his ear.
For some reason, the sensation was more unsettling than any Sinclair soldier.
He moved his head slightly away and focused on the farmhand.
Luckily, it seemed the fellow was too engrossed in his own thoughts to even glance in their direction and made his way further down the track, putting them behind him. Malcolm let out a long breath of relief.
“He’s gone. Come on, we need tae hurry.” He levered himself up into a crouch, and gently tugged on Catriona’s hand to help her up, until they were both hunkered down against the hedge.
After making sure no one else was about, he continued moving them steadily forwards through the undergrowth, towards the far corner of the field.
With every step, he felt Sinclair’s men breathing down their necks like slavering wolves.
“For yer information,” she suddenly said, her voice breaking into his thoughts, “the reason I didnae run away back there when ye ordered me tae was because I thought I might be able tae help.”
“Help?” He repeated, shooting her an incredulous glance over his shoulder.
She was looking at him, eyes clear and guileless.
He looked away, not knowing why his voice came out a little softer than before when he asked, “How d’ye think ye could have helped unless the nuns have been teachin’ ye how tae fight that is. ”
“I see yer sense of humor hasnae improved,” she observed tartly. “Nay, ye great amadan. They trained me as a healer. I didnae run because I wanted tae be there tae help if ye got hurt.”
“Hurt?” he protested, ignoring the strange skip in his heartbeat her admission produced. He chuckled to cover his discomfiture. “Why, I could slay ten like him before breakfast without breakin’ a sweat. Mind that rabbit hole.”
“Aye, thank ye. Well, I’m sorry fer wantin’ tae aid ye,” she replied with sarcasm. “I’ll ken better next time and let ye bleed out. I notice ye havenae given up yer boastin’.”
He almost smiled, forced to admire her for being so feisty despite the terrible danger surrounding her.
“Come on,” he whispered. They both stayed quiet while they ploughed through the last few yards of greenery and finally reached the far corner of the field.
About fifty yards ahead of them, on the other side, behind a split-rail fence, lay the orchard. The trees offered complete cover from prying eyes.
“Now, when I say run, run as fast as ye can and get under the fence intae the long grass. Dinnae stop fer anythin’. I’ll be right behind ye,” he told Catriona, still scanning the track left and right.
She nodded.
Once more, he made sure the coast was clear before saying, “All right. Go!”
Staying low, he helped her to her feet as best he could and watched, his heart in his mouth, as she picked up her now filthy skirts. Unwittingly flashing him a neat pair of ankles covered in sturdy woolen stockings, she took off at a surprisingly sprightly pace towards the fence.
Malcolm dived after her, pushed her down, and shoved her beneath the fence. They rolled together into the orchard’s long wet grass and lay panting amid the fallen fruit for a few moments, invisible to the world.
When Malcolm turned his head, he was surprised to find Catriona looking back at him.
“We made it,” she whispered.
Keeping his head down still, he pulled himself up and squatted beside her. “Aye. But Sinclair’s men are still behind us and there’s a way tae go before we reach the place where I left me horse, so let’s get goin’.” He reached out a hand to help her rise.
She took it without hesitation, which pleased him. It was a sign she was cooperating at last.
“So, ye’re really a healer?” he said.
“Is it so hard tae believe?” she replied sharply, brushing down her damp, rusty skirts and following him without demur as he led her deeper into the sheltering forest of fruit trees.
“How did ye get interested in that?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“D’ye nae recall? It was Elaina who got me interested in it before I even went tae the priory.” Elaina was Duncan’s wife and her dear friend.
“Aye, I remember,” he replied, recalling that the two women were good friends. Or rather, they had been until Torcall Sinclair had upended Catriona’s life and she had been forced to flee to the priory to hide from him.
“She’s a wonderful lassie, Elaina,” he added with a fond chuckle, thinking of Duncan’s lively wife and her sometimes tiresome habit of fussing over her husband. “She loves tae torment poor Duncan with her potions and poultices if he gets so much as a scratch durin’ trainin’,” he added jokingly.
“Ye can laugh, but it shows how much she cares about him,” Catriona staunchly defended her friend.
Malcolm shrugged, secretly impressed by her loyalty. “Enough talk, let’s get goin’.”
He picked up the pace, heading for the perimeter wall, grunting his grudging approval when she jogged along to keep up with him.
“Is that why ye didnae flinch when I killed that soldier back there?” he asked, scanning the surroundings as the perimeter wall came into view between a line of apple trees. No one was about.
“I’m nae scared of blood because I’ve seen it every day in the infirmary. Death too,” she added. Her voice was far too sad for one so young and lovely, in Malcolm’s opinion.
They reached the wall, which was a good eight feet high.
“How will I get over that?” she asked, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she looked it up and down.
“Lucky fer ye, ye have a knight in shinin’ armor tae help ye,” he said, amused by her gasp of surprise when he picked her up by waist and lifted her effortlessly to the top of the wall.
He waited until she got her balance, noticing that, for some unfathomable reason, her face had turned bright pink.
He figured it was because she was scared.
“Swing yer legs over tae the other side,” he instructed.