Blake shook his head, and took one of her hands, pressing the object he’d fished out of his belt into her hand. “It’s nae. It’s nae a flower ye can put in a medicine, but it willnae wilt or go bad, either.”
Reyna studied the thin metal flower, suspended from a thin leather cord. “’Tis pretty. Where did ye find it?”
Blake flushed again and looked away from her bright expression. “Och, well, I had some time tae meself, and I started watching the village blacksmith. When he caught me watching, he offered tae teach me someat o’ the basics – said it was a good skill tae have, fer an emergency shoeing on the road, if naught else.”
“A horseshoe nail isnae a flower.” Her voice sounded amused.
“One thing led tae another... I have a bit o’ skill, and the blacksmith had some spare bits o’ metal lying about… and I wanted tae make ye something”
“It’s beautiful.” She lifted it and slipped the leather cord over her neck with a brilliant smile. “And I like it all the better now that I ken ye made it fer me.”
“It’s a promise, as well as a gift. I’ll dae me best tae change me faither’s mind and get his blessing. Tae court ye if I cannae convince him o’ more. I promise, I’ll make sure we’re both safe, and free tae marry as we like.”
Reyna’s eyes shone like stars as she leaned against his shoulder. “Ye give me yer word?”
“Me word as a Sinclair.”
Anything else he might have said, or any reply she might have made, was interrupted by the sound of hooves approaching rapidly. They were coming from the direction of Sinclair lands, following the same path Blake had ridden hours before.
Blake rolled to his feet, one hand on is dagger as the rider came into sight and splashed across the rill that divided their meadow from the main Sinclair lands. Reyna came to her feet beside him.
The rider came closer, and Blake relaxed a little as he recognized his cousin Hutch. “Och. Nae need tae fret. ‘Tis only me cousin.”
Hutch rode up, and Blake felt a slow, churning feeling of unease begin to creep through him. Hutch’s face was grim and pale, and his horse showed signs of hard riding. He was also carrying saddle bags, more than he could possibly have needed. “Blake. I’ve been looking everywhere fer ye. If I didnae ken ye liked tae meet yer lass here, I’d never have thought tae come this way, or this far.”
“Aye. But if ye kent that, ye might ken I wouldnae want tae be found.”
Hutch shook his head. “And I’d nae come looking, but ye’re needed back at Sinclair Castle. Yer faither collapsed.”
The temperature of the meadow seemed to fall, as if he’d been doused in icy water. “What are ye…?”
Hutch frowned. “I cannae say more than that. I only ken ye need tae come with me.”
He couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. It didn’t make sense. He’d known his father was unwell, but collapsing? Their argument couldn’t have upset him that much.
Suddenly, small hands slammed into his shoulders and shoved him toward his horse, which was grazing nearby. “Get back tae yer family, ye great lout. Ye’re needed.” Reyna stared at him with sharp eyes. She turned and darted away, toward her own horse, before he could say anything.
At least she’d managed to shock him out of his frozen state. Blake sprang after her and caught her arm. “Reyna, wait!” She swung around. “I dinnae ken what’s wrong, but…”
He took a deep breath, then bent to kiss her lightly. “Come back tae this spot, this same time taemorrow..” With another quick, chaste kiss, Blake darted away, to where Hutch was waiting impatiently.
Blake swung into the saddle of his own horse. He waited just long enough to see Reyna’s bay mare disappear on the far side of the meadow before he turned away and nudged it into a trot beside his cousin. “Does the healer have any idea what happened? Is Faither ill? Will he be getting better? When?”
“He willnae be getting better.” Hutch waited until they’d entered a stand of trees by the road, then abruptly nudged his horse forward, and swung it around to block Blake’s.
Blake pulled his horse to a stop in surprise. “What are ye saying?”
Hutch shook his head. “I didnae want tae say anything in front o’ the lass, but yer faither didnae just collapse. He’s dead. By the time the maid found him, it was tae late. He’d passed on.”
Blake reeled in the saddle. “Me faither’s dead…”
“Aye, and I wish that were all o’ it. Or even the first o’ it.” Hutch reached out to grab his arm. “I’m sorry, Blake, but the healer said he’d been poisoned. And mayhap the last dose wasnae the first.”
The cold feeling came back, fierce and sharp like ice in his gut and his bowels. “Poisoned? With what?”
“I didnae stay around long enough tae hear. Blake... I… I wish I didnae have tae be the one tae tell ye this, but…” Hutch’s facetwisted. “Och, cousin, I’m truly sorry, but the truth o’ the matter is, they’re after thinking ye were the one that poisoned him.”
The ice turned into a sword, lancing through his heart, and for a moment he could hear nothing save a roaring storm in his ears. He forced it back and held onto the saddle and reins with hands that were white-knuckled from the strain. “What? Ye cannae be serious.”
