Halvard had dreaded each passing mile on his way back to his home. The idea of taking a wife, not of his choosing struck him deeper than any open wound. But he was bound by duty. Duty, always duty.
“Found it,” Sten called tossing Halvard the flask of water. “If her breathin’ is fine, want me tae bring ‘round the horses?”
“Aye.” Halvard uncorked the flask and poured some of the cool water over a piece of cloth, before gently pressing it to her temple.
She flinched and a small moan escaped her lips. Encouraged, he continued touching the damp cloth to her cheek, then the line of her throat where her pulse beat strong. Her lashes fluttered.
“Come on, lass,” he whispered. “Time tae come back tae th’ world.”
She let out another soft groan, then her green eyes opened, dazed and slightly unfocused, but present. She blinked up at him, then frowned. “You again,” she chuffed.
Halvard couldn’t help it, he let out a grin. “Aye, still me, and ye’re safe, though ye gave me man over there quite the fright.” He pointed to Sten, who shrugged, not sure why he was being discussed.
“I don’t faint,” she whispered weakly.
“Ye just did, lass.”
“Doesn’t count.” She tried to lift herself from the ground, winced and dropped back down leaning on his arm.
“Ye were struck on th’ head, lass,” his tone softened. “Ye should rest a bit.”
Her eyes drifted over to the men lying dead in the field. “You killed them,” she said the same thing again. “For me?”
“They left me nay choice.” He did not feel bad about the outcome of the battle with the men. They were lower than the dirt on his boots, but he did suddenly wish that he could take that memory from her. She was a lady after all. Halvard hardly thought she would be used to such bloodshed and violence.
“I suppose I owe you a debt of thanks,” she said. “Though I’m not entirely certain how to thank you, for…um, would it be called homicide?”
Halvard had never met a woman quite like Elsie and could not help but smile at her description of how he had saved her. Rare as it was even to his own ears. “Nay thanks needed, lass, we dae our best tae stay alive.”
Sten walked up with the horses. “She’ll manage, then?” he asked handing Halvard another flask of water.
“Aye.” Halvard rose, watching Elsie’s attempt to keep her pride intact by straightening her skirts. She was a brave lass, even half-conscious and in pain. “We’ll head tae Brochel. Let the lass rest and regain herself. Then we’ll figure out th’ rest.”
Sten gave him a questioning look. “And the king’s envoy?”
Halvard cursed. He had almost forgotten, for a few blessed moments. “Aye,” he said grimly. “We’ll have tae think of somethin’”
“Ye ken,” Sten leaned in lowering his voice. “Ye could tell them ye’ve already taken a bride. Would be nay point in them stickin’ round after that.”
Halvard gave his friend a pointed look to which Sten shrugged.
“I’m only makin’ a suggestion. Claim th’ English lass as yers and the envoy’ll have nay choice. Nay man, nae even th’ English, would question a Highland marriage.”
Halvard had a slick retort on his tongue when the thought took hold. What if one simple lie could rid him of the leash of the English crown?
He looked at Elsie again. The proud jut of her jaw. She was bruised and dirty, yet she was not beaten. The woman had fought to save herself. She had clawed and kicked her captors rather than submit to an uncertain fate. She was trouble, there was no doubt in his mind. Every inch of her was treacherous, but she was also freedom.
“Me laird?” Sten questioned. “Ye’re starin’ at th’ lass.”
“I’m thinkin,” he blinked and turned away. “Dinnae pretend tae ken what I’m about.”
Sten smirked. “Too late. Shall I tell th’ lads ye finally met yer match in a woman who can out argue ye?”
Halvard snorted and ignored his friend, walking over to Elsie, he could not help but notice the wariness in her gaze.
“Can ye ride, lass?”
“I think so,” she replied, though he could hear the waver in her voice.
