By God's Grace (14 page)

****

Lyall listened to Grant and Bryce conversing. “Sori, they must believe I'm deaf.”

“Nay, they believe ye are dumb.”

“Humph,” she said, before rolling over and going back to sleep.

During the night, Lyall woke with a full bladder. She struggled out of the tent and went to relieve herself in the surrounding wood. On the way back she spotted a patch of wisteria, jasmine, foxglove, and lily-of-the-valley. She picked a few sprigs of each and placed them in a fold of her dress. These might be of some help later.

Thick foliage and undergrowth grabbed at her skirt. The wind whistled between the leaves and caused the limbs to shift. Stars winked in and out, lighting her path back to the tent. Shuffling her feet to keep from stubbing her toe, she was startled by a rustling sound. Turning on her heel she noticed Grant Cameron propped against a tree watching her under veiled eyes.

A piece of grass dangled from his mouth. His arched his brow and asked, “Mistress Lyall, did ye need something?”

Gulping, she said, “Nay, just relief.”

Grant nodded. Lyall wondered how much he had seen. Could he have seen her holding her stomach when she bent over to pluck the plants?

Scurrying away like a tiny mouse, Lyall headed back to camp. She settled under the covers.

Sori asked, “Did anyone see ye?”

Lyall was afraid to answer. Sori was adamant the babe remain a secret. The answer came in a worried whisper, “Nay, no one.”

Lyall's throat constricted. Pressure applied to her throat kept her from breathing.

“Do not lie to me,” came the hoarse tone.

“Grant. He — he saw me.”

“Will he tell?”

Struggling past the constriction, Lyall said, “I don't see why he would. He knows it canna possibly be Cainneach's child. Telling would only bring dishonor to his laird.”

The pressure relaxed as Sori added, “Ye will not be seen in public without binding yerself. Do ye understand?”

“Aye,” whimpered Lyall. When normal breathing returned, she snuggled deep beneath the covers. It took time, but finally she was able to settle down and go back to sleep.

****

The morning dawned early, but it was hardly bright and clear. The fog was so thick Grant could barely see but a few feet in front of his horse. Against Lyall's wishes, he took the lead and had the other men surround her.

They traveled all day in silence, only stopping to eat or relieve themselves. The mist and fog followed them throughout the day, lending an eerie feel to the already unusual journey. Bryce fidgeted, and Grant threatened to whip him if he didn't straighten up. Grant was frightened enough without Bryce adding to it.

Lyall rode in sullen silence. Grant rehashed her strange behavior from the night before. As the lady plucked plants from the ground, she held a hand under her rounded belly as if cradling something precious. Later when she entered the shelter, he was certain he'd heard voices. Knowing such wasn't possible had kept him from wasting time investigating.

But what about the way she'd held her stomach? Lyall was probably pregnant. If this was the case, it didn't belong to the old laird, Cainneach. Therefore he didn't care. If this was the case, then going home to her family was the best for all concerned. If they were lucky when they reached the Burns's keep, she would stay and allow the Sinclair men to return home without her. Duncan would disapprove, but Grant would respect Lyall's wishes, especially if they matched his own.

For all Lyall's pressuring to rest the day before, she remained oddly silent about their fast pace. As they continued to travel, the Sinclair men started to look a little anxious when they passed Aberdeen without stopping. Most of them hoped to take an extended rest at the local pub before getting stuck at the Burns's keep, but Grant pushed on.

Some of the men sent sneers his way. Whispered jeers were heard. “The little Cameron lad must be afraid we Sinclairs might get more attention than he. So instead of being shown up, he is going to take all our merriment away.”

Bryce was angry on Grant's behalf. He leaned over in the saddle and whispered, “Aren't ye going to say anything to defend yerself?”

“Nay, I'm not.”

Unsatisfied with Grant's answer, he said, “But, they shouldna be allowed to speak to ye that way! One day ye will be
the
Cameron!”

Between clenched teeth, Grant said, “Bryce, hold yer tongue. Ye must learn not to be so concerned about what others think of ye, if ye are to be a decent warrior.”

Bryce shook his head. “Grant, I don't understand ye. Ye will be the laird of the Cameron clan. Ye will have lands and power, and yet ye let these men treat ye like a child.”

Grant snickered. “Sometimes I don't understand meself.”

The silence resumed. The horses rode on. Days and days of travel were catching up to them. Then like a boat on the ocean in search of land, a keep was spotted in the distance. Lyall's self-imposed silence ended. “Home,” she moaned.

Men rode ahead to warn the keep of their coming arrival. After Lyall's one word exclamation, she became quiet again. When the group arrived inside the gates, Lyall slid to the ground unassisted. Running in a staggered zigzagged motion to the doors, she yelled frantically at one of the servants and disappeared inside.

Bryce looked at Grant. “What now?”

“Now, we wait.”

****

Lyall ran to her old rooms. Fortune shone on her as they were empty. With one motion the coverlet was ripped back, and the bed was stripped bare. Stripping herself of all clothing, she had just laid out on the bed when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she said, between clenched teeth.

A woman walked into the room. “One of the girls said ye had need of a midwife.” The aged lady glanced down at Lyall's spread legs. “I see she was correct.”

Lyall ignored the midwife. “Oh, thank Sori. Did she send for ye?”

“Sori?”

“Aye, she always knows what I need before I ask for it.”

“Well, lass, I don't know any servant in the keep named Sori, but it seems correct that ye have need of my services. And I am here.”

The midwife ambled to the bedside. Stooped in stature, she just made it into the correct position to check on Lyall's progress when Lyall gave one final grunt, and the babe was pushed out, landing on the bed.

The midwife picked up and examined the little baby girl. She watched the wrinkled hands of the woman as she rubbed the babe's chest. Lyall took a deep breath. Pleasure filled her now that the pressure was gone from her lungs.

“I thought that thing was never going to come out of me,” she said, readjusting herself on the bed. Lyall frowned. The blue lumpy mass didn't seem to be making any noise. “What's wrong with it?”

The midwife cleaned the child's mouth and nose, briskly rubbing its soft, blue skin. “It doesna seem to be breathin', miss.”

“Well, whyever not?” asked Lyall, in an insufferable tone.

“I don't know.”

Lyall jerked the babe from the midwife's hands, causing the midwife to cringe.

“What's wrong with ye?” Lyall said, staring at the babe and shaking it. “Wake up, I say. I didn't carry ye all this time just for ye not to even breathe.”

The midwife's hands were out reaching for the babe when the child let out a piercing wail.

“Good. That is much better,” said Lyall, thrusting the babe toward the stunned midwife. “Find someone to nurse the child for me. I will see ye later.”

Without a backward glance, Lyall rose from the bed, dressed, and went in search of her father.

****

Duncan was never happier to make certain someone was appropriately attired. His eyes lowered to her covered feet. The lass was wearing a type of boot. The toes a tad too pointed for his taste, but he was certain they would do. The dress she wore was a deep blue. Moving inch by inch up her clothed body, he imagined the shapely legs hidden beneath. When his eyes reached her chest, he went ahead and moved his gaze to her lips. Unconsciously, his tongue darted out. He gulped. His eyes found hers. “Aye, ye will suit.”

“Just let me inform Tamara and grab my cloak.”

“Aye, I will wait on ye.”

Today one of the Sinclair men stood guard. While waiting on Arbella, he gave him instructions. “If Tamara requests to leave her rooms, then ye may escort the maid where she wishes.”

“Aye, my laird,” the guard responded. In a relaxed fashion, the man leaned against the wall, lazily doing his duty. Duncan was set to chasten him when he jumped to an erect position and puffed out his massive chest.

“My lady,” said the Sinclair guard, with a perceptible nod in Arbella's direction.

“Good morning to you, Blaan. Did you sleep well?”

“Aye, my lady. And thank ye for the use of the covering.”

Arbella nodded. “You're welcome to its use any time.” Duncan displayed a disapproving stare as she added, “Take excellent care of Tamara, and we will see you soon.”

“Aye, my lady. It would be my pleasure.”

Once they were out of earshot, Duncan said, “Blaan? Since when are ye so friendly with my men? And what, pray tell, did he mean when he thanked ye for the use of yer coverlet?”

Arbella kept moving toward the stables. She spoke not at all as they walked. Duncan worried perhaps she was trying to find a way to release him from marriage so she would be free to marry another. Maybe even Blaan.

As they approached the open stable doors, she leaned into his side and whispered, “Jealous?”

Without waiting for an answer, she entered the open doors. “Good morning, Filib.”

Filib jumped a foot off the ground at the mention of his name. “My lady,” he said startled.

A hand was placed on his arm to steady him. The touch caused Duncan to see red. What was it with all his men and his soon-to-be bride? Anger assailed him at Arbella's friendliness.

Arbella said, “Filib, I am sorry I startled you.”

“Aye, it is all right, my lady. When Duncan said he was taking ye ridin', I saddled yer usual mare. She is waitin' on ye.”

Arbella bounded away to the waiting horse, stroking its nose and whispering endearing words.

Duncan spoke in hushed tones to Filib while Arbella was occupied. “Since when does she have a regular mare?”

“Aye, Duncan. I did some inquiring about the horse she rode in the tournament, that's all.”

“What did ye do that for?”

“Duncan, don't go gettin' yerself all twisted into a knot. The Kincade lass has been so nice to Tamara, I thought this might be a small way to repay her for her kindness.”

Some of the tension left Duncan's frame. “At this point, yer sister and Arbella are best friends.”

“Aye, Tamara seems to feel the same way.”

Arbella grasped the bridle and led the horse to the door, bringing the men's conversation to a sudden close. “Are you ready to depart?”

“Are ye in a hurry to leave?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well not leave, but I am excited to see a bit more of the land that is to become my home.”

Duncan swelled with pride. “Aye, then we shall be off. Filib, is Damon saddled?”

“Aye, my laird, he is ready and waiting.”

Duncan led his own horse outside and secured the food basket to the back of the animal. The couple mounted and set out. They rode in relative silence for some time. Arbella no doubt was having trouble taking it all in. The land was dotted with large stones that they had to ride around. Once around those obstacles, they rode through a huge, open field filled with tall grass. Finally, they arrived at the edge of the woods, and Duncan dismounted. The horses were secured to a tree; the basket was untied and sat on the ground away from the horse's shuffling hooves. When all this was finished, Duncan came and stood at Arbella's side, hands lifted upward to help her dismount.

“From here we walk.”

Arbella allowed him to grasp her waist and lift her from the saddle. When her feet touched the ground, she was sandwiched between him and the horse. She cleared her throat, pushed him away, and stepped out of the tempting situation. Reaching the edge of the woods, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”

Duncan raised his eyes to the sky in frustration. He'd been sure Arbella was about to break the no kissing rule, but then she pushed past him. But he wasn't giving up. He'd said she would beg for kisses before the two days were up, and he fully intended to be correct.

With long strides he came up from behind and slipped in front, taking the lead. He led her through a forest of knotted and twisted trees. The trees they passed had wrapped themselves in special ways to gather enough light to survive. Duncan understood how they felt. At times he felt as if he'd moved to reach the sun, changing things about his existence, whether he wished to do so or not, just to survive.

The floor of the forest was dotted with thick ferns. Duncan went ahead, making sure to hold back limbs, allowing Arbella to pass safely through. No words escaped from the lass's mouth until they came to a clearing. In front of them was a small pond. It was fed by a beautiful sparkling waterfall.

Arbella clasped her hands together and exclaimed, “It is amazing!”

The expression lining her face was one of wonderment, causing chills to race down his spine. “Aye, it is.”

He meant her, of course. Maybe she didn't feel amazing, beautiful, radiant, or any of those other things he had called her. Her carefully arranged hair had started coming loose. Little tendrils stuck to her neck. Her large bosom strained against the corset as she worked to breathe deeply after the exhilarating hike. Dirt was smeared down one side of the blue gown, and small rips and tears lined the edge. But what Duncan saw was amazing.

A large, smooth boulder next to the pond's edge was found, and she sat upon it. A handful of water was scooped up and allowed to dribble down her sweat-drenched face and onto her neck. She had no idea the tantalizing picture she presented. Perhaps for all his boasting, it would be him begging for affections and not Arbella.

While she faced the water, he laid out a cloth and all the food items.

“I do hope it is time to eat. I'm famished,” she said, as she finished studying the water.

All Duncan could say was, “Aye.”

They ate about the same way they had ridden, in silence. Indeterminable time passed, and Arbella said quite forcefully, “We must have speech.”

“Aye. What about?”

“Oh I don't care. Anything! The silence is maddening!”

Duncan laughed. “Agreed.”

“Besides,” she said. “How will we ever get to know one another if we never speak of that which we want to know?”

Duncan exploded in riotous laughter. “Ye do have a point. Even if I am not exactly sure I understood what ye said. Go ahead with yer learning endeavors.”

Arbella straightened, shifting around until she presented a prim and proper type of pose. “Laird Sinclair,” she began, “what have you been doing since I saw you ten years ago?”

The crystal blue sky spread out above him. A type of wistfulness filled him. He whispered, “Runnin' from my destiny.”

Curious, she asked, “What do you mean?”

Duncan settled in for an extended conversation. Laying back on the cover and placing folded hands behind his head, he was just about to speak when Arbella interrupted him. “Oh, forget I asked that question. What I really want to know is why you didn't leave with those girls while you were loading the wagon the day of my last visit.”

Duncan debated about whether to tell her. After a little healthy stalling, he decided to just tell her the truth. “That's what ye want to know, is it?”

“Aye, Duncan. That is what I have always wanted to know,” said Arbella, lowering her gaze.

Duncan decided to answer. “I knew ye were watching me.”

“Oh,” she said, her disappointment evident.

He lifted a shoulder. “I didna wish for ye to have a bad opinion of me. Ye were such an innocent. Like my sister in so many ways.”

Arbella sighed. “Like a sister?”

“Well, of course. Ye were tugging at my shirttails when ye were a wee lass, calling me ‘Uncan' just like Alison. Ye came for a long visit each summer. Ye were a gangly, skinny little thing that year, and I would have dearly loved to have pulled on yer braids.”

Arbella groaned.

She didn't seem pleased with his answer. The urge to comfort her assailed him. To do so would no doubt lead to currently off-limit pursuits. Relaxed in a prone position, he said, “Arbella, time does change things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I no longer have brotherly feelings toward ye.”

Arbella blushed. “It's your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Aye, to ask me a question.”

Duncan knew about her past because of the discussion with Jamus, so he didn't want to waste a question on a repeat of information, but there were some questions he wanted answers to. “Why did ye come here and compete in the tournament? Why did ye let Jamus convince ye to compete on behalf of the Kincade clan? Why did ye sneak out of yer room to have dinner with a group of rowdy Scottish men? Why—”

Before another question was asked, Arbella leaned over and pressed against his arm, placing a finger across his open lips. “Wait a minute. If you keep going, I will never be able to answer all your questions.”

When the finger was removed and she sat back, Duncan snuck in one more question. “Why aren't ye already married? Ye are twenty-three!”

Arbella's breath rushed out in an exhale. “I would have thought you would have this all figured out by now.”

“Nay. If I did, lass, I wouldn't have asked ye.”

“Very well, Duncan. You were honest with me, so I will answer as honestly as I am able with you. First of all, Jamus found me on the farm alone.”

Duncan interrupted, “Why did ye go there when ye father died? Ye should have returned to ye clan.”

Arbella's gaze cast downward. Sadness filled her expression as she whispered, “I did, but no one wanted me.”

Affected by her words, he reached out to touch her, but she didn't want comfort. Leaving his side, she returned to the water's edge alone and sat before speaking again. “Jonas and Martha had no children, and I was fourteen years old. I wanted to maintain a family setting. Besides Jonas favored father so much it was almost like still being with him.

“As for your other question, when Jamus arrived at the farm, I had been alone for almost two years, and I believe I would have jumped at the chance to leave with just about anyone. I admit I didn't particularly look forward to competing in the tournament, but Jamus assured me it was the only way to impress a certain Scottish Laird.”

“Humph.”

“As to your last question about having dinner with a bunch of rowdy Scotsmen, I must confess that was the most enjoyment I've had in a long time. In fact, I've never had so much fun. Being in a room with so many people all communicating at one time was—” she paused while looking for the right word.

“Chaotic?”

“Nay, I was going to say ‘heavenly'.”

Duncan laughed. “Ye have an odd impression of heaven, my dear.”

Arbella climbed off the rock. “The day is getting away from us. Maybe we should head back.”

“Aye, we should.”

They packed up the food stores and the blanket and headed back to the tethered horses.

Once they arrived at the wood's edge, Duncan placed the food basket on the horse's rump and tied it into place. As soon as he was finished securing the basket, he turned to help Arbella mount her horse, but she wasn't next to him. Panic rose in his throat. Before worry got the better of him, there was a high-pitched whistle. His eyes roved, landing in the middle of the field of high grass. There stood Arbella waving. A hand reached forward, picked up a flower, and brought it to an upturned nose. The blossom's fragrance was sniffed. Then Arbella peered over the rim of the petals, winked, and took off running.

Unsure what Arbella was up to, he took off after her, giving a merry chase. The spectators at the tournament claimed the lass ran like a gazelle, and Duncan agreed. Arms pumping beside him, he wondered if he was ever going to catch her. With merriment, the lass repeatedly glanced over her shoulder. The look egged him on. She was practically begging him to catch her. Finally, he caught up. Now, how could he stop her without hurting her? Lunging forward, he tackled Arbella, rolling to absorb the shock of impact.

When they landed, Arbella was under him. Her chest heaved with exertion. Their heads were inches apart. The wish to claim the soft lips overwhelmed him, but he refrained. His body was stretched full upon her own. The gown had hiked up to her knee, and his bare calf lay against hers, pinning her to the ground.

“Duncan?”

“Aye?”

“That was amusing. Can we do it again?”

Duncan rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky. He laughed while gaining control of his raging emotions. “Lass, today I think I have enough bruises from getting to know you. Maybe we should forego the chase for a different time, aye?”

Standing, he grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. With bowed head and a wink, she added, “As you wish.”

Before he finished dusting off his kilt, she had taken off at full speed toward the waiting horses.