Page 29 of Falling for His Cousin’s Betrothed

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Robert felt a swirling of emotions inside him. What was Laila’s fate now that Alastair was in a heap by the reeds? How long would he remain there, and what would happen when he came to his senses and eventually tried to break free? There was a pit in his stomach as he imagined Laila contending with his ire. As he walked to the stable to feed Bonnie, he tried to invent a plan that would save her, but his mind was too chaotic with worry.

“What can be done?” he asked aloud.

Only a few barn swallows twittered above, leaving his questions still unanswered.

* * *

At the castle, Laila prepared for a day at the market. She made herself rye toast with blackberry jam and paired it with a mug of chamomile tea. The sky was clear, and only a gentle breeze moved throughout the valley. She watched through the ornate, stained-glass window in the hall as a series of goshawks flew from one oak tree to another. The leaves were finally curling up in preparation for a long winter, and she wondered how soon before snowfall descended on the village. Her market wares had been packed early in the morning, and she sipped her tea, eager to get to the town square for setup. Lyall was still sound asleep and so Laila took it upon herself to thoroughly enjoy the silence, the peace, and the solitude that permeated in her absence.

“Morning, nature.” She walked outside and had a good stretch, her sinewy arms high above her head. “I plan to make this a wonderful morning.” She was feeling particularly lucky as she walked to the stable to check on her mare. She had prepared a wide selection of teas and jams to bring with her, and she had even added a few dried rose sachets. She figured if she only sold half of her goods, she would still leave with a sizable profit that would pull her through the winter months. Her father had taught her at age seven the value of money, whether it be for barter or for purchase, and she had always tried her best to emulate his practicality by engaging in activities that exercised her knowledge.

After packing a cart with three wooden crates of market goods and a small sack with fruit and water, she called on a garden hand to escort her to the moat, where she hitched up one of the Clydesdales and prepared her cart for travel. The sun was now bright, and a soft wind drifted through the valley as she climbed atop the velvet cushion that draped her driver’s seat. “Carry on!” She excitedly coaxed her horse to move forward and smiled as a small gathering of ducks drifted across the Eastern Pond.

* * *

When she arrived at the market, many vendors had already set up their tables. Rich tapestries of auburn, red, and indigo swayed in the breeze, and the scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the square.

“What a lovely collection of goods we have today.” An elderly woman smiled and walked with a willow bark cane. “Makes me feel proud to be a Scot.” She looked up at the sky, then picked up an apple from one of the vendors’ baskets. “These look as though they were just picked from the tree.” She handed the vendor five coins and took the apple, polished it on her wool petticoat, and carried on her way. Laila pulled her cart up to the stand next to the apple vendor and tied up her horse. She then hauled off her crate, set it next to some eyebright bushes, and laid out her butterscotch homespun linen tablecloth.

Just as she was about to remove her teas from the crate, she saw a group of market vendors gathering at the end of the square. Who are they speaking to? she wondered. The chatter of cordial greetings swept through the valley air, and she smiled, feeling relaxed and curious. As the people huddled around the man, she tilted her head. Is it Robert? She laughed softly to herself when she saw him dismount Bonnie and take the reins over her neck. What was he doing in the market? Her heart leaped at the sight of him, and she clasped her hands together in excitement. This was going to be a fortuitous day, after all.

“How are you?” Laila had just made a U-shaped spread of her teas—hibiscus, chamomile, tulsi, and rose. She placed the rose sachets in the middle of the U atop a small, decorative basswood tree round. Then she fanned out some tan, embroidered napkins and a small, ceramic plate of candied jam. It looked beautiful, in her opinion. “Your teas look perfect.”

Laila blushed. “Thank you, sir.” She lifted one of the tea bags up and handed it to him. “For you,” she said with a grin. “Best served hot with a dollop of honey or a splash of milk.”

Robert winked and tucked the tea bag into his shirt pocket. He gave Bonnie a pat on the neck, then walked her to a nearby pin oak tree and tied her loosely to one of the copper rings that was nailed into the bark.

When he ambled back to Laila’s display table, she’d prepared a small plate of candied jam for him to sample. “Here you go.” She handed it over, and he eyed it with curiosity. “A little treat to pep you up for your journey.” Robert smelled them, lifted one up, and took a bite, closing his eyes as he savored the delectable square.

“What do you think?”

“I think you are a multitalented artisan who ought to have her own space somewhere in Edinburgh or Glasgow.” Laila batted her lashes and swayed coyly back and forth.

“Edinburgh, you say?” She bowed. “I thank you for regarding me with such esteem.” Robert chuckled and took another bite of the candy.

“You know what they say. Edinburgh is the most renowned artists’ town in all of Scotland. Regarded highly for its glass-blown arts, in particular, it’s one of the most charming towns in the whole of Scotland.” Robert nodded. “Most artists colonized the town only a few years ago, including the well-known team of Hornell, Taylor, and King.”

“I didn’t realize you knew so much about art,” said Laila. “I mean, you’ve seen so much over the years, so I suppose I should have expected as much, but you never can tell.” She placed a lid on one of the open honey jars then set it next to the candies. “What brings you to the market on such a beautiful morning? I suppose you wanted to do something more relaxing than, say, hunting foxes with your cousin?” She laughed, then took a candy for herself, savoring each sugary sensation as it melted on her tongue.

Robert chuckled. “I must say that I’ve been wondering about him today. I have the strong inkling that he hasn’t moved much since the afternoon. What do you think?”

“I would like to echo the same sentiment, but I must admit he is quite the tempestuous character, so I can put nothing past him. For all I know, he’s trampled all the frogs in the reed grass and eaten them for breakfast.” Laila threw her head back with laughter. “And I do love frogs, so hopefully that isn’t actually the state of affairs over that side of the valley.” She looked up as a man with a long blue robe approached her table. He held a cane in one hand and a leather satchel in the other.

“Good morning, Lady. May I please buy a few of your chamomile teas?”

“You may, sir. Can I interest you in a tray of candies, as well?” asked Laila.

The man nodded. “They look lovely. Perhaps my wife might enjoy a few of those on her morning walk. I’ll take that ray on the right.” He pointed to the ones cut in maple leaf shapes.

“Good choice, sir.” Laila wrapped the tray in a piece of soft parchment and handed it to him just as the sky darkened with clouds. Robert had walked off to the side and was watching the market-goers, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Thank you, Lady. Enjoy the rest of your day.” The man in the robe wandered off with his goods, and Robert eased back to her table.

“I don’t want to take your attention away from your craft so I’m going to be stepping out, but I came here to let you know that I’m going to surrender.”

Laila’s heart sank. “Surrender? What on Earth for, Robert?” She placed her hands to her mouth and shook her head. A young woman with three small children approached her table.