“What of the lass?”
“I’ll keep her by me, of course.”
“You cannot.”
“And why not?” His friend had situated himself by the fire, and James stepped closer to stand towering over him. “The lass has a sound seat on a horse. She’ll make the journey just fine.”
“Aye, the lass has a pretty seat indeed,” he said, and James’s glare was deadly in return. “Listen to reason, man.” Tom rose to face him. “It’s been pure good fortune that nothing has befallen her thus far. Think you, what would’ve happened had today’s battle gone the other way? Who would’ve protected her?”
Tom let the thought hang heavy in the air before continuing, “The battle in Aberdeen has opened a Pandora’s box. Traveling as a stranger, and on the road to England? Men will be on the lookout, and with hatred in their eyes, for any sign of a Covenanter. Others will want vengeance against any Royalist they can find. And then there are those who’ll merely be suspicious of everyone.” He met his friend’s eye with uncharacteristic challenge. “And what of you now, James? What of your Covenant now? How would you choose, if you were forced to pick a side?”
He placed his hand on James’s shoulder. “I know you’ll want the lass by your side,” he added quietly. “But for her safety, you must part.”
“Aye,” James said finally, his voice ragged. He flinched his shoulder from beneath Tom’s hand. “I’ll return to Montrose and gather Will Rollo. I’ll need another man at my side.” Turning his back, he spoke, staring into the fire. “I must leave at once. If I ride through the night, I can be there by dawn. I’ll gather some provisions and head to the land of our king.”
“She’s not here, lad,” Napier said, perplexed. James had finally found his brother-in-law in the crofter’s cabin, all its other inhabitants gone to the soldiers’ camp to celebrate the Covenanters’ victory. “We thought surely you’d be raising a toast to your great triumph by now. She went off and about with the cook. Magda has no shortage of questions for her. I don’t know what manner of missionaries her parents were, but it seems your lass wouldn’t know the difference between sustenance and certain death when it comes to living off the land.”
James only nodded absently, so Napier elaborated, amused by his own story, “Cook only just stopped her from poisoning us all with a basket full of spindle berries. She finally decided simply to take Magda on one of her foraging walks. I’ve not done wrong to let her alone?” he asked, sudden panic seizing his voice.
“No, no,” James replied, his tone distant. His eyes scanned the room once more, as if Magda might somehow magically appear. The single cookpot. A lone cot. Grit and dirt on the cold stone floor. She didn’t belong there, in such an untamed land. How would she survive it? She’d want her museums and grand baths, not spindle berries. She’d want to return to her home.
“You did well.” James’s voice was rough. He raked a hand through his hair and began again. “These past days. You did well, tended Magda well. You’ve my thanks. It’s been a great relief to me. But . . .” He clasped his hand to Napier’s shoulder. “I’ve one more favor to ask of you.”
“You know you have only to ask.”
“I need to be off. And soon.”
“Can you not wait for Magda’s return? It can’t be more than a matter of hours.”
“I have no choice.” James paused, blinking his eyes shut tight. When he opened them, his gaze was sharp on his brother-in-law. “I need to leave for Montrose at once. You were right about the Covenanters. It appears we’ve created a many-headed beast. Even now, Campbell razes the town, and the king has lost London to Parliament.”
“Civil war?” Napier asked incredulously.
“That is the question, aye? I’m off to Oxford to treat with Charles. Gather what I might about the situation. But Magda . . .”
Napier nodded, knowing.
“I’d wanted to see her once more . . .” His voice trailed off, remembering the vivid green of Magda’s eyes. In them he’d seen the promise of something greater than just a man and a woman lying tangled together. But whatever potential he might feel with this strange, wayward woman, he knew she had to return home. That England was on the brink of civil war only confirmed it. To keep her in his world would only put her life in jeopardy.
James inhaled deeply, gathering himself, then focused once more. “The lass needs help. Return her to Montrose for me, offer her my every hospitality.” He added somberly, “Help her find the way home.”
“Anything, James, of course.”
“Ask her story. And Napier?”
“Yes, lad?”
“I would that you believed her.”
Ignoring the other man’s confusion, James continued, “Take her to the monastery. My hope is the Black Friars might lend assistance.”
“Where exactly is the lass from?” Napier asked uneasily.
“In good time, man, in good time . . . Ah, one last thing.” James reached down, and extracting a small knife from the cuff of his boot, he sliced a navy and gold enameled button from his coat. “Give her this from me,” he said, pressing the button into Napier’s hand.
“A trifle to remember me. When she finds herself home, I’ll be long dead.”
Chapter 16
