Page 26 of Falling for His Cousin’s Betrothed

* * *

Laila went to bed with many thoughts weighing heavily on her mind. It was a wonder she could sleep at all, and as restless as her time under the silken bedsheets became, she nevertheless got what amounted to a solid six hours Dreamtime in which she traveled to distant seas, asking fairies, goddesses, and ancients alike if they had the answer to her question. “What do you need to know?” one maiden asked, her long, flowing locks like magnificent ribbons of caramel. Laila opened her mouth but every time she asked her question, the maiden frowned. “I can’t hear you, love. Speak up a bit?” Laila would open her mouth and ask the maiden how she could escape Alastair, but the maiden still was unable to hear. After much tortuous sleep, Laila finally awoke, a bead of sweat on her brow, and jumped quickly out of the bed.

“I wish to speak with you.” Before she even had a chance to put on her robe or brush her teeth, Lyall was at her door. Laila covered her face with her hands, still in that odd space that existed between the dream world and the conscious state. She envisioned the maiden coming to her aid, her long, honey-colored tresses rolling out on the hardwood floor like some sort of mystical, magical freedom carpet. Why can’t she come now and simply whisk me away? Laila shook her head and removed her hands from her face.

“Lyall, I haven’t yet dressed for the day. What is it you want?” Laila walked to her wardrobe and opened the doors, not particularly concerned with Lyall’s wishes or demands. She took a silk chiffon robe off the hanger and draped it across her milky-white arm, then walked lightly toward the washroom where she turned on the ivory faucet. She placed a finger under the stream of warm water then looked down at the rose-colored soap bar sitting on the porcelain soap tray. If only I could lose myself in a bath, she mused. Perhaps then the world and all of its troubles would simply melt away.

“I want to ask you something about Alastair. You do know that he wants to have lunch with you today. Correct?”

“Oh, Lyall. He and I have spoken plenty of times this week. There’s no need to rush our courtship.” Maybe, thought Laila, if I simply play the game with Lyall, I can find a way to remove myself from the constant microscopy of my every move. Was it possible that she could pretend to like Alastair? Maybe that would somehow ease the tension between her and Lyall. She figured it might be worth a try.

“Well, I still want to discuss a few matters with you. I can wait until lunch.”

“Very well, then.” Laila rolled her eyes and placed her robe on the brass hook beside the tub. Then she took off her nightgown, dipped a toe in the warm water she’d drawn, and settled into the bath. It is like being whisked away to another land, she thought, one where only sweet words and kind people dot the periphery. What a place to call my own! She eased her head back onto the tub pillow and closed her eyes in bliss. She imagined walking with Robert along a flower-painted landscape, both of them admiring the view. It was still worth having dreams, she thought, even if hers might be temporarily thwarted.

After what felt like a long and lavish soak in the rose-scented water, Laila stood up, reached for her cream-colored bath towel, then wrapped herself inside it and climbed out of the tub. She patted her feet on the velour rug and walked carefully across the washroom and into the chambers, where she dressed in a blue chiffon day shirt with a long, burgundy-colored skirt. She sat on her bed and tucked her wet tresses behind her ear, then reached for a pair of silk socks and placed one on each foot. Today, she was going to steal away and see Robert. She had decided this would be her project of the day after waking from her fitful sleep but now realized it would take some creative circumventing of Lyall to accomplish such a feat.

The sun was already high above the castle, and only a few scattered clouds floated through the sky. Laila knew that it would be best for her to take the quickest route to get to Robert’s cottage. She’d ride over the valley to the east, wind her way through the dotted scrub brush along the riverbank, then make her way west past the boulder field and up over the cobblestone drive that led to his gates. She had envisioned all of it the night before and told herself that she would let no one, not even Lyall, deter her progress.

After tiptoeing out of her room, she wound her way down the spiral staircase and into the foyer. She could hear Lyall clanging away with pots and utensils in the kitchen. It was the perfect time to open the large wooden door. Creak! It always had one hinge that liked to announce its existence.

She slinked through the tiny crack of an opening she’d fashioned, then closed the door softly behind her, the sound of Lyall’s excessive and clamorous kitchen prep still ringing in her ears. Once on the front steps, she sat down and put on her leather riding boots. Then, with only a quick glance over her shoulder, she walked toward the stable, quickly brushed her mare, then saddled up and mounted her at the gate. She gave her a quick squeeze on the barrel and steered past the paddock, along the fencing, and down toward the end of the drive until the castle became smaller in view. It wasn’t long before she could finally draw in a deep breath of relief and ride, at ease, away from the castle and toward Glencoe Village.

* * *

When Laila arrived at Robert’s cottage, he was nowhere to be found. She knocked, called, even flung a stone at his front door but to no avail. His presence, it seemed, was lacking. But where could he be? she wondered. Where else would a good warrior find himself on such a beautiful, quiet morning? Laila frowned, bit her lower lip, then led her mare across the tiny stream leading to the back of his stable. Is Bonnie here? Laila craned her neck, hoping to find his mare greeting her from a stall, but the long latch chain marked off with a long line of roping deterred her from going any further inside.

“What are you looking for?” Laila gasped and spun on her heels, sending her own mare into a pensive rear. When he saw her uncle standing there, she froze.

“I’m looking for…for Robert. What are y-you doing here?” stammered Laila, taking the reins tightly in her hands and backing up against the stable wall. Renfrew howled from the stables, and Laila paused. Why was he tied up like that? Robert usually let him roam freely.

“Robert? He’s off hunting with his cousin. What do you need, Laila? Does Lady Lyall know you’re out here snooping around? I came to deliver some important missive to Robert.”

“Lyall is in the kitchen, apparently trying to concoct some sort of meal.” Laila regained her composure. She refused to let her uncle throw her off her square.

“I see.” Laird Fairfax placed his hands on his hips, then pursed his lips. He didn’t trust Laila, and he didn’t like her, either. “Well, there’s nothing to see here, so you best run along.” He walked toward her, and Laila could smell a port on his breath. She gulped and turned around. Her mare, still shook, neighed and walked alongside her until the two were situated safely beside an old oak tree. What will I do now? Laila wondered. For a moment, she contemplated venturing into the forest but quickly decided that would only invite trouble. She wanted to remain in the open, especially since, in the event Robert made his way back to the cottage, it would give him the opportunity to see her.

“I’ll be leaving now,” Laila called out to her uncle, who had taken to polishing saddles in the stable. He didn’t acknowledge her goodbye, which was fine with Laila. All she wanted to do was find out where Robert had gotten off to and carry on with her day. She certainly didn’t want trouble, especially from her uncle. She rode away, back toward the valley under the warmth of the autumn sun, then wound through the oak scrub until she’d found a gentle, sloping hill to trot along.

The further away she got from Robert’s cottage, the more she felt as if something was off. What was it about her uncle this morning that had given her pause? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she didn’t trust him. That much was for sure. She didn’t understand why Robert would be off hunting so early, especially since he didn’t particularly care for leaving his castle without Renfrew. She rode along, wondering what was amiss, and eventually found herself right back where she’d started. Hopefully Lyall would be out of the kitchen by now so she could at least sit and enjoy a cup of tea in peace.

Meanwhile, off in the thicket east of Glencoe Valley, Robert and Alastair rode on horseback to the Wall of Scry, a secret area known only to the lairds and a few select nobles. They galloped in the tall grass until their horses’ hooves could no longer be heard; thick in the earth, they sank.

Alastair drew back the reins on his stallion and looked up at the crumbling wall. He’d frequented this place as a youth, and the sight of it now brought back a stream of memories. Robert dismounted and walked toward some of the rubble that was piled along the base of the wall, then took a knee and touched the coarse, pebble-like remains.

“I see that the wall has come crumbling down.” Robert looked up as an eagle flew overhead. “I suppose that’s symbolic.”

“Who knows?” Alastair shrugged and got off his horse. “I know there’s a lot of history on these bricks. Humph.” He placed his hands on his hips, remembering when he’d come here to see the names etched into them before they were placed, with mortar, into the wall.

“Indeed.” Robert nodded in agreement, then stood up, the sandy rock falling loose from between his fingers.

“Speaking of history, you and I have our own to contend with.” Alastair tossed his hair out of his eyes and gave Robert one of his notorious toothless grins.

Robert chuckled and shrugged. “What is it today, Cousin? We need to hash out more discrepancies regarding Laila?”

“I’m of full belief that the past is behind us. The future is all that remains.” Alastair looked once more at the Scry Wall, then glanced back at Robert. “But I don’t want any more trouble. We’re clear on that. True?”

Robert nodded. “True.”

Robert walked to his horse and drew up the reins. He was relieved that he and Alastair could share a morning together away from all the chaos of the castle. It seemed to him that sometimes, all that was required to balance the familiar vibration was a change of scenery.

“Very well, then.” Alastair reached for a stone and inscribed something, illegible to Robert, into the wall. Then he placed his left foot in the stirrup, heaved his weight forward, and spun his right leg around the back of the saddle until he was seated properly and ready to go. Robert gave Bonnie a squeeze, and she trotted off, ahead of Alastair and his stallion. Tall reeds sprouted forth, and amber seed pods, a sign of autumn, burst forth at every turn. Robert, having been comfortable only minutes prior, now felt wobbly. Something had shifted. Or was it just his memory playing tricks on him? Suddenly, he felt a cold chill climb up his back. What was it? He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been to this area on another occasion and not as a youth. The wall, the reeds, it all felt eerily familiar to him now.

“Shall we ride to the heath?” asked Alastair as they rode among the reeds.

Robert swallowed but said nothing. That was when he saw it—a blunt piece of metal, forging like a welding tool onto the back of his head. Thump! He could feel it. Who was it? He shook his head, wanting to escape from the memories but they reeled forward as if propelled by some unseen force, and at a dizzying pace, too.

“Yes. Let’s take the heath toward the stream and head east.” Robert felt weak and wanted to dismount but opted, instead, for a sip of water from his canteen. Where were they? He looked up at the sky and watched a few clouds drift by. He knew this patch of forest, but it wasn’t from fox hunting. That’s when it finally crystallized. The blunt pole on the back of his head, the haunting grunt from Quest, the rain descending from the sky…

He looked back over his shoulder and locked eyes with Alastair, who was grinning again. Robert shivered. His cousin? Was he responsible for the attack?

“I think I see another rider in the distance.” Alastair’s words shook Robert out of his dream.

He took a deep breath, hoping it might make him feel less ill, but it did nothing. Another sip from his canteen seemed to do the trick, and he breathed a sigh of relief, feeling more confident now that he would not faint and topple off his mare. That was, until he saw that the rider in the reeds coming straight for them was none other than Laila herself.