Chapter 12 #2
Asking her to accompany them back to Keep Bryden might be too much, however. She’d likely refuse, and then what? Would he chase her down?
Without thinking twice, he reached into his pocket and took out his coin purse. The woman brightened at the clink of gold.
“For yer troubles,” he said, handing over the coins. She accepted them with a smile.
“Thank ye, sir. Ye can find the cabin north of town. Follow the path lined with red berries, ye will get there in a couple of miles. And it was good to see ye again, Lady Moira. Uh… Skye, I am glad that ye are…” She fumbled for the right word. “… recovered.”
Abruptly, she turned on her heel and scuttled away, leaving Skye and Evander staring after her.
“Well,” Skye said, her voice shaking just a little. “That was… unexpected. I wish ye hadnae let her go.”
“I could hardly wrestle her along with us in this crowd,” Evander pointed out. “What would ye prefer, that I tied her up and threw her over me saddle?”
She sagged. “Nay, of course nae. But this is a solid lead, is it nae?”
“Aye, it is. Ye were with a man, one who tried to take care of ye, including bringing a healer to see to ye. Her information is good. I will investigate that cabin as soon as I can. For now, we had better find ye a new dress and then go home, aye?”
“Aye,” she echoed, still staring in the direction in which Annabelle had disappeared.
They hadn’t made it more than a couple of steps through the crowd before someone shouted Skye’s name. Both of them flinched, spinning around.
A tall, blond-haired man of about thirty plunged through the throng toward them. A heavy gray kilt hung around his knees, his shirt tight around his muscular frame. A single blue eye gleamed in his ruddy face, the other eye hidden behind a battered old eyepatch.
Evander recognized him at once, and his stomach tightened. A quick glance down at Skye showed that she recognized him, too.
She let out a disbelieving laugh. “Mason? Mason, it’s ye!”
The man skidded to a halt inches away from her, beaming. His arms twitched, as though he wanted to draw her into a tight embrace, but he kept them resolutely by his sides.
“I cannae believe I have found ye,” he breathed. “I heard that ye had been found at the Leanan Festival. I went to the place where it was held as soon as I heard, but of course ye were gone. I followed yer trail, and here I am. Here ye are!”
Skye turned to Evander, her face shining. “Evander, ye remember Mason Langton? He is one of me braither’s most trusted warriors, and he was going to come with me to Keep Bryden, I’m sure of it.”
“He did come with ye, aye,” Evander responded brusquely.
He cast a long look at Mason. The man was already staring back, his smile wavering. They hadn’t gotten on well at Keep Bryden, despite Skye’s attempts to bring them closer.
Mason’s single good eye flashed with dislike, the expression only lasting for a moment before he turned back to Skye. Real happiness softened his features.
“I cannae believe ye are alive and well,” he whispered. “We all feared that ye were dead.”
“Well, I am nae dead,” she laughed. “Tell me, are ye still pursuing that pretty wee Bryden healer?”
As soon as she’d spoken, she blinked, jerking back.
“Wait, I remember that. It’s just a fragment, just a piece of knowledge… Mason, did ye flirt with a Bryden healer?”
Mason reddened a little. “Aye, I did. The rumors are true, then? Ye have lost yer memory?”
“I—”
“Enough,” Evander interrupted, stepping forward. Mason shot him a look of heavy dislike but said nothing. “Where did ye hear this rumor?”
Mason scowled. “I cannae recall.”
Evander wanted to roll his eyes.
Daenae be childish, man.
“Lady Bryden and I will go on our way,” he stated firmly, holding Mason’s gaze. “Ye are to stay here and make enquiries. We believe she was taken through this place. Ask around. See what ye can find out. Then, meet us back at Keep Bryden. Or go back to Keep MacCrimmon—I daenae much care.”
“I’ll nae be separated from Lady Bryden’s side,” Mason snapped hotly.
Skye placed a hand on his forearm, as if to calm him. Evander clenched his jaw, swallowing back his fury.
Stop touching him, he wanted to snap. But such an outburst would only alienate her from him and would make her draw back. Staying calm was the only solution here.
“Do as I ask,” he said coolly.
Mason hesitated for a moment, glancing down at Skye as if hoping she would counteract Evander’s command. But she only stared at him, frowning.
At last, he sighed.
“Very well, Laird Bryden,” he muttered, spitting out the title like a curse. “I will come to Keep Bryden. It’s me duty to watch Lady Bryden.”
“As ye like.”
Mason smiled at Skye once more, before taking his leave. He inched reluctantly into the crowd, and she watched him go.
There was a brief silence after he had left.
“Can I assume he still thinks of ye as Lady Skye of Keep MacCrimmon, then?” Evander heard himself say, his voice tight with fury.
In his mind, he raced after Mason, sword drawn, ready to fight. Mason was strong enough to hold his own in a duel, certainly, but would he win? No, Evander didn’t think so.
Skye blinked. “What?”
“He teases ye like a sister. Ye arenae his sister. Ye are above him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ye are too harsh.”
“Am I? He kens ye are Lady Bryden, so he should treat ye as such. I am nae pleased with his disrespect.”
“Oh, please, Evander. Leave him be.”
“I’ll have a word with him. Ye are me wife, nae his friend.”
“I can have friends.”
“Nae that friend.”
“Mason is just relieved to see me,” she said firmly. “I’ll tell him to address me as Lady Bryden. He must have forgotten. Besides, we were barely married.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine, very well. Come on, lass, let’s get going. I daenae see any stalls here that sell ready-made clothing, and ye ken what that means.”
She trotted after him, all interest in the marketplace seemingly gone. She didn’t look at the stalls anymore or smile at passers-by. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set, her lips pressed tight together.
Angry.
Evander bit his lower lip. He didn’t like how the joy had been crushed out of her.
Well then, I’ll just have to figure out how to put it back.
“What does it mean?” she prompted.
“It means that we’ll need to take ye to a proper seamstress,” he explained brusquely.
“What for?”
“Ye will see,” he responded, with an enigmatic grin.
She didn’t smile back. Instead, she folded her arms. “Really? Ye think that I will forgive ye for insulting me friend and me with a wee trip to the seamstress?”
Evander blinked, taken aback. “What?”
“Ye heard me. Ye got angry because me friend was too familiar with me. I daenae ken what kind of marriage I had agreed to, but I’ll nae have ye telling me who I can and cannae be friends with, Evander.
I daenae want me friends to be in danger of yer temper.
I need ye to promise me now that ye willnae try to control me life in that way. ”
“I am only trying to protect ye.”
“I didnae say that ye had bad motives. I said that I couldnae accept it.”
There was a long pause between them. Evander stared at her, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Very well,” he relented. “I jumped to conclusions, and I ken that Mason thinks highly of ye. It’ll nae happen again.”
She eyed him for a long moment, as if waiting for him to roll his eyes or mutter something else. When he held her gaze evenly, she sighed and shook her head.
“Thank ye,” she murmured. “See? We can get on just fine, ye and I. All will be well if we just work at it.”