“Yeafrighted his horse, too?”
“Aye.Why should the mon return to England in comfort? Although he may have caughtthe beast by now. He said only one thing, many times and in many colorful ways.”
“Andthis one thing he said?” she prodded when Crayton fell silent.
“Thatno wee Scottish whore is worth this trouble. His words, lass. Not mine.”
“Iken it.”
Sherelated the whole tale to Dougal, who decided he and a few men should at leastcheck to be certain the man was gone. Crayton slipped away with them, unable toresist even a small chance to frighten Treacher’s man one more time. Sorcharefilled her tankard and fought the beginning of a severe headache.
Herlife had been relatively calm until she had found Ruari Kerr on thatbattlefield. The worst of her trials had been sorting out the difficulties herfeckless relatives stumbled into. Now she had fallen in love and lost it, helda man for ransom, dealt with the English, lost her maidenhead, and had inspiredsome ferret-faced Sassenach to hunt her. It was all Ruari’s fault, she decidedcrossly. When and if she ever saw the man again, she still planned to run away,but only after she gave him a sound and very painful punch in the mouth.
Chapter Thirteen
“Thereye are,” cried Dougal, hurrying over to where Sorcha worked to ready thekitchen garden for the spring planting.
Sorchastood up, rubbing at the small of her back as she greeted him with a smile.Over the winter he had matured, and they had grown closer. He still actedbefore he thought, but he was increasingly willing to listen to advice. Sheprayed those changes were real and not simply the lulling effects of a long,cold winter.
Shebriefly glanced up at the spring sky, finding it unusually clear and bright forearly April, and smiled to herself. A dull ache of emptiness seemed to havepermanently lodged itself in her heart, yet even that sorely bruised part ofher could not fully resist the uplifting effects of spring. Sorcha could almostenvision herself living a happy life without Sir Ruari Kerr at her side.Shaking free of her musings, she centered her attention upon Dougal before hecould notice and question her distraction.
“Isthere something I can help ye with, brother?” she asked as she wiped her dirtyhands on her apron.
“Nay,ye do more than your share of work as it is. I have come to ask if ye wish togo to the market fair in Dunbum today. If we leave soon we need spend but onenight upon the road.”
“Oh,I should greatly enjoy that, but do ye think it will be safe?”
“UnlessCrayton has been keeping secrets from us, no one has caught sight of a Treachermon for nearly a month. ‘Twill be safe, lass. I will be there as will Robert,Iain, Aunts Neil, Bethia, Grizel, and Eirie and several weel-armed soldiers.And the market will be crowded. No Englishmon would dare venture close to it. Iwondered if ye could convince Margaret to go with us. It might cheer her.”
Sorchawas not sure of that, but nodded. “I will try to coax her. What of young Effie?She loves such market fairs.”
“Aye,but I told her she would have to forgo this one. The spirits are stilltroublesome.”
“Idinnae think they would follow her.”
Dougalshrugged. “I couldnae find anyone who could say for certain so I decided ‘twasbest not to risk it. I have promised her a visit to a fair as soon as thetrouble ends.”
Althoughshe felt badly for young Euphemia, Sorcha did not argue with Dougal’s decision.He was right. They could not risk Effie’s spirits starting their nonsense at acrowded fair.
Shetook only a moment to clean the dirt from her hands and discard her apronbefore searching out Margaret. It did not really surprise her to find hercousin draped on her bed, staring morosely at her ceiling, but she wasdistressed by the sight. Margaret was proving obstinate in her melancholy mood.Nothing seemed to cheer the girl, and no one had been able to talk her out ofit. Sorcha knew Margaret would not greet the idea of going to a fair with anyenthusiasm, but she was determined to drag the girl along. If nothing else,Margaret needed to get some fresh air.
“Yeare a sorry sight,” she told Margaret as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yewill certainly make yourself unweel if ye continue on like this.”
“Howcan ye be so happy?” Margaret asked, staring at Sorcha in sad-eyed curiosity. “Ithought ye loved Ruari.”
“Aye,I did, more fool I. And I am not exactly happy. ‘Tis simply that I refuse to bebrought to my knees by a mon. One doesnae have to die of love.”
“Onecannae. I have tried.”
“Margaret!”
“Oh,dinnae look so concerned. I dinnae think it can be done. My first thought wasto just let myself slip into death, but I am too healthy and I kept feelinghungry so I would eat. ‘Tis clear that one cannae waste away if one eats.”
Althoughit upset her that Margaret had even considered dying, Sorcha found her cousin’scomplaints about her failure amusing and had to bite back a smile. “Nay, Ibelieve one is supposed to starve.”
“Weel,I cannae do that because I cannaenoteat. Hunger isnae a verra nicefeeling. I cannae just sleep my way into death because I keep waking up. Andthen, of course, I eat again. I even considered going to a nunnery, but Icouldnae. They dress so poorly, live in such dank places, and eat poor food asweel. I have failed at all the things ‘tis said a heartbroken lass does. Intruth, I think I didnae try verra hard. Then I begin to wonder if I truly loveBeatham.”
“Ofcourse ye do, and he would never fault you for surviving the parting forcedupon you.” She patted Margaret’s shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. “Since I amcertain he is still verra much alive, your pining away would only make him feelterrible.”
