“Apologies, me lady,” she heard the deep voice say, and felt the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “I’ve kent some tiny horse thieves in me time, so ye cannae hold it against me.”
Actually…I would like to hold meself against ye! Och, what’s happening to my mind? I should nae be having such raw thoughts when I’m about to become betrothed…
“I-I’m no’ that tiny! I stand two-thirds of a rod above the standard height, sir. Surely one such as ye could notice?”
But all he said in reply was, “Ye still seem tiny to me, lass, as do most folks. What are ye about so early in the morn?”
“I like to ride early, and we dinnae allow lanterns in the stables…so I felt me way here.” Laura stuttered over the words.
They both became aware that he was still holding her wrist gently in his hand. The tall stranger stepped back. “It is understandable, me lady,” he replied. “It fair riles me up when folks are careless with the safety of their steeds.”
There was no moon to be seen in the steel-gray sky, but as her eyes adjusted to the gloomy conditions, Laura was able to see the man’s outline more clearly. “Would ye like to come with me?” she asked him. “I want to ride down to the village to shake the cobwebs out o’ me head, an’ we can bring back preserves for the breakfast table; our cook ran out. I love the taste o’ bannocks and fruit jams in winter, don’ ye?”
She thought she heard a rumble of laughter coming from his chest, but he seemed amenable to accompanying her, saying, “Aye, lass—lady, I mean. Does yer clan nae mind ye traipsing out so early in the morn?”
“To be honest, I have never been up this early before. I had to put on me own riding skirts! But there is something about the silence before the dawn that calls me.”
He held out his hand for her to hold so she would not fall, and she groped for it in the darkness. When her hand felt his calloused clasp, for some strange reason, Laura felt safer, warmer, and ever so slightly stimulated. Without being aware of it, she circled her finger on his palm to feel the heated roughness better.
They saddled their horses together, Laura running her hand over the destrier’s withers in wonder, saying with a light laugh, “The mare suits you. You are both immense dark shadows in the night.”
He did not reply and seemed to be considering her words. Laura strained her eyes to see if her honest opinion had offended him, but she could not read his expression in the morning twilight.
Only when they rode past the guard tower and the sentries raised the gates did recognition finally dawn on her as the stranger rode under the torches in the gate sconce. “Tell me yer name at once! Yer face is so familiar to me, and I only need a name to match it in place!”
He turned toward her, a crooked grin on his face. “Let me guess… I was also awake all night tryin’ to remember, ye see. I last visited this castle a while back when I was in the employ o’ yer neighbor, Chief Jameson, after he was invited here for that reelin’ ye had. Yer face and figure have changed dramatically, but I remember yer manners, lass. There can only be one girl in the world with such headstrong ways. I did nae get yer name at the time. Can ye remember mine?”
Laura was overjoyed to meet an acquaintance from the reeling again. He had been a bit younger then, but there was no denying this was the man from his physical resemblance.
“Aye. Ye’re Bruce…Bruce Duncan. We met at me brither’s wedding a few years ago now. You were kind enough to take pity on me as a conversation partner.”
The creases between Mr. Duncan’s brows cleared a little. He might have been wary of treating her in the same way they had before. He knew she was a lady now.
She reached out her hand to him. “I didnae think it possible, Duncan, but ye seem to be even bigger an’ taller since we last met.”
He didn’t take her hand and kept his eyes ahead of him, only saying, “I am glad to see ye in better spirits, me lady. Last time…” He could not finish what he wanted to say.
Laura had to allow her hand to fall back down. “Last time, I was not in a very happy mood,” she said in a toneless voice.
“Aye. I would go so far as to say neither of us were much good at talking back then, but still, I recall ye because of yer kindness and sweet voice, and…ye have a certain air about ye, lass.” His gaze skirted Laura’s hair. “Ye looked different. Ye were a wee slip of a lass then. Now, ye’re a woman.”
Laura had been more than young then. She had also been incredibly ill in both the heart and body.
Back then, Laura had arrived at the Henderson estate looking for a fresh start with a new family. Instead, rumors of her tainted past back home had followed her to the north, dashing her hopes and seeing her fall prey to a demon of illness. She had been tired and weak, barely able to tolerate the thought of losing her only family to another woman, regardless of Arabella’s sweetness of character.
Bruce had been one of the guests at the wedding for reasons she had not then known.
“This is true,” Laura admitted. “We did not speak together for more than a small part of the evening, but your company was much appreciated at the time. Ye managed to bring a smile to me face, as I recall.”
Upon finding themselves, by coincidence, in close enough company that they had shyly introduced themselves, Bruce had remained at Laura’s side for the length of several dance reels. They had exchanged a few pleasantries and then discussed the possibility of likely matches and future betrothals between the people in the ballroom. This kept up the speculation until it reached hilarious proportions. By watching the actions of the dancers twirling around the ballroom or standing to one side of the festivities, Laura and Bruce had amused themselves by imagining a portly farmer wanting to marry a sharp-elbowed spinster or a plump maiden falling madly in love with the spider-shanked castle steward.
What had begun as a disinterested conversation, with both of them only wanting the illusion of company so as to stave off other bothersome interested parties, had turned into an enjoyable exchange of jokes and lighthearted repartee until Bruce had been called away to leave with Chief Jameson.
For the one brief moment in their lives, it had been nice not to feel isolated.
Laura wondered if something bad had happened between now and then; Bruce seemed more somber since she had last seen him. Maybe it was the formal Highland jacket and neatly pleated plaid he had been wearing back then that had made him appear less formidable. She remembered the night of the reeling. When they had not been laughing together, Bruce’s face would return to wearing a careworn expression of sadness. And despite the bulky leather jerkin and fur cloak he wore now, she could see that subtle sadness was still with him, which gave him a slightly fragile air. Had some young village maiden broken his heart? It was hard to tell.
As the gray sky began to lighten in the east, Laura looked at Bruce and was startled to see him staring back at her just as hard as she was regarding him.
