Closing her eyes, her heart hammering, she murmured another prayer, a low nickering carrying to her on the breeze that stirred her hair.
She glanced to the east, relief swamping her to see a sod-covered farmhouse and a pasture beyond it where shaggy ponies were grazing on lush grass—aye,ponies!
Aislinn swallowed against a flicker of pain across her head and bolted for the farm even as she heard the thundering of hooves in the distance.
Her heart in her throat, she didn’t have to glance behind her to know that Aengus and some of his men were approaching the convent—God help her, how would she ever outride them on a pony?
Aislinn didn’t stop until she was almost to the pasture, but slowed her pace so she wouldn’t startle the creatures. She glanced at the farmhouse, though no one was in sight. A thin curl of white smoke rose from a hole in the roof that carried a whiff of porridge bubbling, mayhap the family gathered for breakfast.
Her own stomach growling, she prayed for forgiveness as she crept toward the nearest pony.
She had no time to seek out the farmer and ask for his help as the pounding of hooves and whinnying of horses grew louder. Even if she did, speaking to him would only point to Sister Agnes—no, no, the last thing she wanted was for that dear woman to suffer for helping her to escape.
“There now… easy…” She held her breath as the sturdy animal turned its head to look at her with deep brown eyes—all the while Aislinn praying he wouldn’t bolt. Still moving with great care, she grasped his thick mane and pulled herself onto his back.
She had no saddle, no bridle, no reins, only her years of loving and caring for horses to guide her as she urged the pony into a trot away from the commotion near the convent.
The trot soon becoming a gallop as Aislinn steered the animal north with her heels while she clutched the pony’s coarse mane more tightly.
Dumbarton behind her and the purplish hues of the Highland mountains in front of her… only for Aislinn to veer moments later to the northeast as she sensed with cold certainty that Campbell Castle was exactly where Aengus would think she was headed.
Tears filling her eyes that she would find her way instead to the small farm where she and Cameron and his men had spent the night… hot porridge covered in fresh cream and fresh baked bread awaiting them before dawn.
Chapter 17
“By God, Cameron, will you train us tae death? The men need some rest—I need some rest!”
Cameron scowled at Conall, who had thrust his sword into the dirt so he could wipe the sweat from his face. “They’ll train untilIsay it’s time tae stop, brother. Will the whole lot of you grow soft and when King Robert calls upon us tae fight, we willna be ready?”
“We’ll be ready, but mayhap half dead at this pace! You’ve been back for over a week and every day since, we’ve been up at dawn and training well past dark—like tonight!” Conall lowered his voice and came closer, scowling himself. “I’m truly sorry for the heartache you’ve suffered, Cameron. Aislinn was as bonny and brave a lass as any man could hope for, but you didna know she was betrothed and she didna tell you! I asked her, too, and would have warned you—”
“So she lied tae both of us, what does that tell you? We were both fooled, but it doesna matter anymore! She’s wed by now.”
“Aye, or in her grave because of falling from her horse and striking her head.Noman claiming her, neither you nor Lord Butler—”
“Enough, Conall, pick up your sword!” Clenching his teeth at the thought of Aislinn dead, Cameron swung his own sword before his brother was ready, Conall jumping out of the way just in time.
Blast and damn, he wasn’t working his men any harder than he was working himself—anything tae keep his mind from flying to Aislinn, always Aislinn!
Something told him that she wasn’t dead or he would have known it in his heart—aye, felt it in his bones, too! Yet she was dead to him all the same, for if she had recovered at the convent—as he had been praying with more fervor than he’d ever prayed before—then she would be married to Aengus Butler by now and lost to him forever…
Cameron drew a deep ragged breath and swung at Conall again, that thought almost too grim for him to bear.
The ring of sword clashing against sword echoed around the bailey lit by great, sputtering torches as a hundred men went at each other, thrusting, parrying, ducking, and even tumbling into the dirt to escape a blow… until at last, Cameron roared out for everyone to stop.
Aye,roared.
He smiled to himself in spite of the terrible ache in his heart at the memory of Aislinn teasing him—God help him! He would have given everything for more time with her… more teasing, more talking together, more embracing, more kissing, the sweet softness of her lips something he would never forget.
“Aye, I believe you did love her…” murmured Conall in amazement, followed by a low whistle that made Cameron sober at once and wipe the sweaty grime from his face with his sleeve.
“I love her still… though it will bring me nothing—och, release the men tae their supper and their beds!”
As Conall obliged him, his brother’s shouted command sounding so much like his own, Cameron sheathed his sword and walked wearily toward the keep.
He hoped Uncle Torence wasn’t awaiting him in the great hall. The man had arrived today with news of more hopeful brides—a half dozen of them, which made Cameron sigh heavily as he glanced up at the bright half-moon.
More than enough light, along with the torches, for training this late—but Conall was right.
