Satisfied, she left him just as the bell rang to raise the castle, letting everyone know it was six measures of time after the midnight bell even though it was still dark outside.
The six men from the scouting party were relieved they had been able to stay at the castle instead of returning to Halkerston’s encampment to escort him back. They had split their duties into three: midnight to morning, evening through to midnight, and after the noontime cannon had fired—with two of them patrolling in pairs. Some of the castle guards approached the McKays and Bruce Duncan when they sat down for dinner in the barrack quarters after the noon bell chimed.
One of the guards who had been on sentry duty at the gates swallowed his mouthful and then turned to Bruce. “Has the lady of the castle taken a shine to ye, Duncan? She has never wanted to ride out with someone afore.”
It was an honest question. And there was no insinuation in the man’s tone. Taking a shine to someone indicated friendship, but it could also mean that friendship had the possibility of turning into something warmer.
Bruce fixed the man with a long stare. “I injured meself on the way to the castle. I made inquiries to where I might find a healer. Lady Laura was so good as to point me in the direction of yer village apothecary. I was comin’ off duty and met her in the stables. She asked me to ride out with her so we could talk about how I was healing.”
The sentry guards seemed to accept this explanation as fair enough, and everyone went back to eating. But the moment the sentries left, the McKay brothers shifted closer to Bruce so no one could overhear them. “Comin’ off duty, ye say?” Roald smirked. “Yer shift ended at midnight. Did ye fall asleep next to the lady’s horse stall by chance?”
Bruce breathed deeply to keep his temper in check. “How many times do I have to school ye, Roald? When ye josh me about a lady, it’s no’ only me whom ye’re joking about. Yer words make a mockery of the woman herself.”
Roald winked. “That’s one fine lady, Bruce! An’ she’s tall enough for ye as well! She must stand at least six inches over the common height of a female. Takes after her brither in that regard, he being so lofty himself. Imagine the size o’ the bairns the two o’ ye might have together!”
Donald decided to put in his two pennies’ worth of ribald opinion. “Ooh aye, Brither! Can ye imagine the two o’ them in bed together? D’ye think Duncan here will break her? She’s hardly got any meat on her bones, she’s so delicate. Meself, I prefer a cozier armful, but I would nae turn down a buss or two from Lady Laura, maybe even—”
That was as far as the McKay brothers’ theories managed to go. Standing up with an exasperated sigh, Bruce Duncan placed his bowl down on the stool beside him, grabbed both men by the back of their coats, and banged their heads together like two halves of a gourd he wished to crack open. Then he released them and went back to his food. The men dropped to the ground with a heavy thud where they lay stunned. After a while, they stirred and groaned, crawling back onto the bench where they might hold their aching skulls in more comfort.
“Everythin’ all right there?” the captain of the guard wanted to know. The McKays waved their hands to show the man they were capable of lucid thought. “Och Brucie, me boy, when are ye going to learn to take a wee joke?”
Roald groaned. All he got in the way of a reply was a grunt. Unsure whether it was a negative or positive answer, Donald whispered, “Seriously Bruce, ye cannae keep yer ridin’ routine with Lady Laura a secret forever. Auld Laird Roy would have a right seizure if he knew about it.”
One of Laird Halkerston’s soldiers had been eating his dinner close enough to overhear the conversation. “Aye, lads, ye’re right there. His lairdship already considers the lady his own property. Ye’d be mad to go out riding with the girl, never mind bussing her. I heard the lady’s maid chattering in the kitchen. Lady Laura is as pure an’ untouched as the driven snow.”
“Imagine that,” Donald McKay mused out loud, with one eye cocked warily in Bruce’s direction. “Twenty years of age an’ never been kissed!”
“She must be aching for it,” the soldier said, which promptly made the McKay brothers warn the man to be quiet. “Davey Torrens, if ye wish to see yer next birthday, keep a respectful tongue in yer head.” Roald lifted his chin in Bruce Duncan’s direction.
Davey Torrens made a scoffing noise. “Ye’re protecting the lady’s virtue when ye ken naught of the situation, lads! She’s been kissed plenty o’ times before. The lass was in love, dinnae ye ken? She was betrothed some years back and went an’ got her heart broken. So there’s no need to get violent over the thought of planting a kiss on those ripe lips of hers.”
Bruce remembered the sad girl at the wedding reeling and knew Davey Torrens was telling the truth. “Poor lass,” he remarked, “but if she wears her hair down, it means naught has occurred to make auld Halkerston uptight. She’s virtuous and untouched in the right places.”
Davey Torrens shook his head. “That’s open for conjecture, lads. An’ that’s what’s worryin’ Halkerston. If the lady was free with her kisses then, she might be free with her kisses—and more—when the ring is on her finger.”
A growling sound came from Bruce. “If his lairdship is thinking that, he has a foul mind.”
Undaunted, the soldier continued. “I have gold that says the lady will give up a kiss for ye, Duncan. Who’s with me for a bet? Let’s make it a wager worth Duncan’s while. I bet ye twenty gold sovereigns, Duncan, that ye cannae give the lady a sweet buss.”
The McKay brothers gaped. “Where d’ye get such a fortune, Davey?” Roald wanted to know.
The man shrugged. “Me faither left me some gold, and this seems as good a place as any to bet it. If Duncan believes the lady is so good an’ virtuous, then he has naught to lose an’ I keep me gold. An’ if the lady is free with her kisses, then he stands to win a crock o’ gold! He cannae lose.”
“I can bet a shilling, I guess,” Donald said, “but I doubt ye’ll get the fish to bite.” He jerked his head over in Bruce’s direction. “Although I’ll go bail auld Halkerston will be happy enough to get proof of the lady’s purity.”
Bruce Duncan said nothing as he got up and left.
6
He was waiting for her by the stall the following morning with both horses already harnessed and saddled. The horse he had chosen for her to ride was a stately stallion, mature in years but still a powerful animal.
When they rode out of the castle gates together, Laura felt free to talk. “Me horse reminds me of Halkerston—Laird Roy, I should say. It’s auld an’ gray but still able to carry a load.” She watched him give one of his rare smiles, but he did not say anything until they were out of earshot of the sentries.
“I should breed Maegli. I got her as a young filly but could never put her in the breeding paddock because I always needed her for work. She’s nearly reached the age to be too auld for a foal, but I would like to continue me faither’s horse’s bloodline.”
She loved to hear him talk about the world outside of the castle. “At what age did ye begin yer soldiering?”
He told her in a few words. His parents passed away when he was newly come into youth—three and ten years old. The disease that had claimed them left his sister, Alice, in a permanent state of invalidism. His father had never wanted the life of a warrior for him, so he had apprenticed himself to the blacksmith for seven years. But he was too young to have thought things through; it had been impossible to earn nothing for seven long years, not with a sister to care for. He had taken to the road as a sword for hire: a mercenary. Word had spread about his usefulness in battle, and then he was able to leave the itinerant life of a mercenary behind and work for any laird offering him the most in payment. An elder named Agatha looked after his sister back at the village, but she was almost as frail as his sister herself.
