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“Yes, I know. I am sorry. There was no means of sending a message asking his permission.” She tried smiling, achieving only a wane grin.
Duncan looked mildly annoyed at the gesture. They all stood silent and uneasy for a few moments. “Now then, on a usual day we’d be chasing the lot of ye off our land—and not real politely, either. But today is a lucky day fer ye, Lady Fiona. The earl told us to bring ye to him. So, ye’d best be getting on yer horse.”
Lord be praised.Releasing the breath she had been holding, Fiona scrambled to obey. One of Sir George’s men boosted her onto her mount and she quickly gathered the reins. The others started toward their horses, but Duncan’s voice halted their movements.
“Only the lady comes with us. The rest of ye will wait here.”
Sir George and his knights exchanged glances. “My men will stay behind, but I will accompany Lady Fiona,” Sir George insisted.
“Nay.” Duncan’s voice boomed.
Fiona flinched. Several of her knights became more vocal in their protests, shifting restlessly on their feet. Out of the corner of her eye, Fiona saw one of the Scotsmen reach for his sword.
No!They had come too far to risk failure now.
“Silence!” Fiona held up her hand. “We are guests of the earl and as such must act accordingly.”
“I’ll not allow—”
“Since he is the earl’s man, I trust Duncan’s honor implicitly,” Fiona shouted, interrupting Sir George’s protest. “I’m sure he will gladly guarantee my safety.”
Everyone’s attention shifted to Duncan. There was no mistaking the annoyance in his eyes, but there was something else there, too. Integrity. His word, once given, would not be broken.
“She’ll not be harmed on my watch,” he said grudgingly.
“Thank you.” Fiona felt her belly tighten. The last thing she wanted was to ride into the earl’s castle without her knights at her side, but there appeared to be no other way. “I entrust you with Spencer’s safety, Sir George.”
Somewhat mollified, the knight nodded his head.
“I’ll be leaving some of my men to keep ye company, Sir George,” Duncan announced as he swung himself effortlessly onto his saddle. “Just to make sure ye dinnae get lonely.”
There was barely any time for Sir George to argue. Within seconds Fiona could feel the press of horses and men as the Scots formed two columns around her. The moment they began to move, her startled horse meekly followed the surge.
The brisk pace left Fiona breathless. She resisted the urge to turn and look back upon the camp. Instead, she concentrated on keeping her seat, determined to show the Scotsmen that she was able to keep to their grueling pace.
They rode through a large meadow, covered with sweet-smelling green grass and tiny lavender flowers, then entered a dense forest. Here they were forced to ride single file, with Fiona placed firmly in the center of the pack. They eventually emerged from the dense woods into a valley with a picturesque stream meandering through the center of it.
Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead to shield the newly emerged sun, Fiona gasped as she caught her first glimpse of the earl’s castle. Dominated by four massive gray stone towers, it was perched at the top of a large hill, looming over the landscape below and allowing for sweeping views of the countryside from all directions.
Stone walkways on the ramparts connected each of the towers, and Fiona could see the heads of the men who patrolled them. As she and the riders drew closer, she realized that there was a second curtain wall of stone surrounding the entire complex. Here, the battlements were numerous, allowing for even greater protection against attack. Her mind whirled as she tried to calculate the time and expense required to design and construct such an elaborate stone structure.
Though clearly built for warfare and defense, there was an unmistakable beauty surrounding the fortress. The stone shimmered when hit by sunlight and the water in the wide moat sparkled like gemstones.
Surrounding the great castle was a sizable village of thatched-roofed homes, cooking smoke rising from many of them. As they rode down the main path through the village, the sounds of laboring hands and bustling activity filled the air. Hammering, sawing, nailing. Children’s laughter and mothers’ scolding, braying livestock and clucking hens.
Word quickly spread of their presence. People abandoned their work, emerging from their dwellings to stare openly as they passed. Several of the children waved, and a few of the young women simpered and cast appreciative, flirting eyes toward the men.
Fiona could not help but notice how healthy they all looked, with round cheeks and sparkling eyes. There were barely any holes in their clothing and most had shoes upon their feet. It was a sharp contrast to the thin, dirty rags and gaunt faces of the peasants on her brother’s land. It buoyed Fiona’s sprits to see the common folk so well cared for by their lord and bespoke of the earl’s compassion and generosity.
Pray God, that giving spirit would extend to her and Spencer.
“She’s English.”
The accusation was hurled from a faceless voice. A chill crept inside her, reminding Fiona that here she was considered the enemy, an unwelcome and unwanted intruder. Word quickly spread among the villagers and the friendly smiles turned to harsh glares. She braced herself for any verbal taunts, but a glowering stare from Duncan silenced the growing crowds. Still, Fiona could clearly see that the villagers’ simple curiosity had given way to mistrust.
Quiet surrounded them. Fiona nudged her mount closer to Duncan. Another dark scowl twisted the young man’s face and a feeling of gratitude swept through her. He had given his word to keep her safe and was now intent on keeping his promise.
Still, a pang of loneliness dug into her heart. If only she had Sir George or Spencer by her side to give her courage.
