McBain's Bride Page 3

  We made camp again that night. I was delighted it wasn't raining. Ian sent me to look for dinner while he took the saddles off the horses and set them to grazing near our secluded campfire. It took me a bit longer to hunt down our dinner but I finally succeeded in bringing back three ground grouse and I recovered all three arrows unbroken. The warmth of the fire was welcome; Ian had water boiling and some potatoes roasting. I watched as he plucked the birds and roast them on a spit over the fire. I deliberately kept my conversation to a minimum. I was unsure how much longer I could keep up this pretense. I longed to talk to Ian in my own voice. He seemed a fairly intelligent servant with a ready wit. Lairds valued resourceful men like this. We ate in silence and I washed up near the stream we were following. When I returned I was readying a conversational gambit I had been practicing in my head when he gestured at me to lie down. My bedroll was already laid out behind me, my bow always at the ready next to me. Ian sprang to his feet and reached for his sword when I heard a voice behind me,

  “Don’t be too hasty, my man.”

  “I am not your man. State your business.” Ian demanded.

  “I am in service of the king and I heard there were highwaymen about skulking in these woods and I find you and the young ‘un. Seems to me you might be thems what we’re looking fer,” the red coated soldier slurred his words and wavered toward Ian with his pistol cocked.

  “I doubt it. Now put the gun away before you scare the lad.”

  “I been watching the two of you for a while and I like what I’m seeing. I think I’ll take the young one with me, my cock beens a bit lonely for a time.”

  I couldn’t help but gasp, not only at the vile suggestion but at the thought that he knew me for a girl so quickly. Ian’s eyes darkened with rage. “Why you…,” he started for the soldier who quickly brought his pistol up and aimed it at Ian’s heart. The gun was rock steady in his hand now.

  “What are you really looking for?” demanded Ian again.

  “What I found apparently,” the soldier replied, “a highwayman, a brace of roast birds and somewhere to bury my cock. Say goodbye to your little friend.” He raised the gun to fire as I held my breath.

  “It’s too bad about predators in these woods.” Ian replied silkily.

  At that signal I grabbed my bow, raised it and loosed an arrow in a heartbeat. I hit the man square in the eye. He died as he stood there. It was an upwards shot from my position seated on the ground. I fell sideways to the ground and curled up into a ball when I began to sob uncontrollably. I put my hands over my head so no one could see me, could see what I had done. Rough hands gathered me up and pulled me into a lap. Ian pulled my head against his chest where I cried all over his shirt. My forgotten hat lay on the ground. He stroked my head and back and told me over and over how brave I was and how clever I was to have saved our lives. Finally my sobs turned into hiccups. I looked into Ian's face expecting to see disgust but instead he looked at me with caring and those green eyes locked onto mine. I had to get away from him before I did something, we did something, I would regret. I stood up and ran to a tree within sight of the fire, fell to my knees and was ill. Ian followed me again stroking my head.

  “Ah, my lassie, you are brave and beautiful, he was going to kill us for sure. Be strong now, we must keep going and leave here. I am sure he has companions that will come looking for him.”

  Ian walked over to the man, picked up the pistol from the dead man’s fingers and placed it behind his back, stuck in his trousers. Still leaning against the tree, I swiped my damp hair off my forehead. I stood up and turned away from Ian and the monstrosity on the ground and went back to the river for cool fresh water.

  I washed my face in the stream, trying to calm down as much as I could. I had killed an officer of the king. I was bound for the gallows for sure. I returned to camp to find Ian calmly eating the roast bird while sitting on a log on the other side of our little clearing. He had obviously dragged the body away from our camp. He saw me and invited me to sit down. I sat next to him and ate silently for a while as he offered me bit by bit my share of our dinner.

  “I’m glad to see you eat, lass, it will stave off the shock.” I cringed at the ever so slight emphasis on “lass”.

  “We need to bury him,” I stated. I felt outside my body somehow, distant from the scene and distant from Ian.

  “What?” Ian asked.

  “You need to dig a grave; about three feet deep should do it. I will take his boots and create a trail for his friends to follow.” I gestured to his feet. “Come on.”

  Ian helped me pull off the soldier's boots. He had on two different color socks with many holes. One would think we could outfit our own soldiers better than this. His left foot had an infected sore, most likely an untended blister.

  “May have been what put him in a bad mood.” I offered and yanked off the offensive socks. Ian just stared at me speechless. I was sure I was horrifying him but I had to do my best to insure our survival if a troop of the man’s cohorts arrived. I took the socks and boots and started away from Ian.

  “Dig,” I directed and pointed at the softer soil near the bank of the stream. I followed the stream into the woods, slapping the socks on the ground or on the trees as I went. After going about a mile downstream I pitched the boots and the socks into the stream with silent apologies to the villagers downhill who depended on this stream for fresh water. Luckily the moon was full and it was a clear night. I crossed over the stream and trudged back up hill. It took a while as several other brooks joined the stream from that side. I slipped and fell a number of times and was wet and dirty by the time I returned to camp.

  Ian had done as directed and the grave was nearly finished. We picked up the body with Ian doing most of the lifting. I picked up the naked feet and together we tipped the soldier into the grave. We started kicking the soil into the grave and soon he was lost to our sight in the dark night. We continued until the soil seemed level with the surroundings. As I stomped on the grave I intoned “Dear Lord, into your hands we commend this soul.” Ian backed away from me.

  “Afraid of being struck by lightening?” I felt my hysteria peaking.

  “No. Just truly amazed. Have you buried many souls before?”

  “Nope. First time,” I laughed nervously, “And first time I ever killed a man.”

  “He needed killing,” Ian observed.

  “If he didn’t before he would have afterwards.”

  “After what?” Ian asked.

  “After shooting you and raping me,” I continued to lose my slim hold on my composure. “But you could have avenged me.”

  “Not if I was dead.” Ian took a step towards me.

  “Not dead, injured.” I turned in circles not knowing what to do.

  “I would never let anyone harm you. Now, who are you really?” He said stepping closer to me.

  I couldn’t concentrate on what he was asking. “You will have to protect them from me, I killed him, I killed a man!” I was screaming and then suddenly I wasn’t. I was wrapped in Ian’s arms and held tightly to his chest. I heard his heart hammering in time with mine.

  “Auch now lassy,” the brogue was strong, “Calm yourself,” he murmured things to me as if I was a wild horse. He stroked my back and whispered things to me. I felt warm and safe. I stood straighter and Ian let me go.

  “We’d best be going; we need to get some miles behind us this night.” Ian commanded. He had saddled the horses before digging the grave so we mounted and rode off. Shortly, we made it to the road and rode several miles before turning into the woods on the other side of the road.

  “Know these woods?” Ian asked me.

  “Not as well. I think we are fairly near the coast. We could ride straight through to the coast and then head north. We would come out near to McBain’s Doom. It’s a rough go but harder for someone to track us.”

  “You seem to know a great deal for not knowing much.” Ian commented dryly.

  “It is good to
know your buyers.”

  “Really? I thought there was to be a marriage contract between your family and McBain.”

  “More like a bill of sale.”

  “Explain.” Ian demanded as we crossed the road and entered the woods at a slower pace.

  “One virgin in fair trade for a new roof and assorted other farm implements.”

  “You don’t think much of this marriage then?” Ian asked in a low voice.

  “It’s not for me to think on. I just do as I am told.”

  “I doubt that very much. Who are you really?” His laughed boomed through the woods.

  “Hush!” I silenced him with a gesture, “We need to go quietly for about a mile. There are some hunters’ huts nearby and I don’t know if any are occupied at the present.”

  Ian pulled his horse over to mine to whisper at me.

  “Do you think it’s time I learned who you are? You are certainly not young master Robert. McBain will be quite displeased when I show up without young Robert.”

  “Call me Robin. I am just a nobody on the estate. I was dressed and ready to search for you that morning when you arrived. I offered myself in Robbie’s place because he’d been quite ill with a flux and could not have made this trip. That’s what Sir Robert was saying to me when he took me aside. His family is grateful to me and through him they made me a promise.”

  “Going to share?” he teased.

  “You know for one who so recently killed a kings guard you are remarkably chipper.”

  “I didn’t kill him, you did,” he pointed out.

  It was too dark to see his face clearly. I heard teasing in his voice but the message sent cold shivers down my spine. Would I face the gallows alone? Would my virtue count for naught? I held my silence as I wondered at the predicament: I was selling my virginity for my family’s good and then I killed a man intent on taking that virginity but doubted a court would see saving it as a reason to end a man’s life. Ian kept us moving through the forest away from the scene of my crime.

  At last Ian pulled us to a halt. We again unsaddled our mounts and rubbed them down but no fire was built.

  “We have but one or two hours until dawn, try to sleep. We need to cover long miles in the morning,” Ian softly stated.

  I unrolled my blankets and climbed in with my boots still on, my bow again at the ready and stared up at the stars. “I’m sorry to have gotten you involved in this. If we are followed you need to move on ahead and leave me.”

  “I’ll do no such thing, Robin. He would have raped and killed you.”

  “How did he know I was a woman? You didn’t seem to notice?”

  “He didn’t, lass, he thought you were but a young lad.”

  I gasped, “How can that be?”

  He laughed bitterly, “My dear child, there are things in the world that you’ve no concept of. I believe this is your first lesson.”

  “Surely you are wrong. It makes no sense, the bits don’t fit.”

  “I’ll not be the one explaining such to you. You can figure it out yourself being a farm girl and all.”

  “No, you are simply wrong. He identified me as a woman…”

  “Girl,” Ian corrected.

  “A woman, he saw in me,” I huffed.

  “You think he saw through your filthy clothes and that awful hat and was consumed with lust? You must have taken a blow to the head.”

  “Some men find me attractive, I’m sure.”

  “Some farm boy talk his way into those pants of yours and make you a woman?”

  I was shocked by his crudity and told him so. I rolled away from him and tried to sleep. I fumed silently, sleep evading me. How could he say such a thing? I thought he was handsome and elegant and smart but I was wrong. He was an idiot just like every man I had met except my brothers, an idiot who only saw women as, as……. what that soldier said.

  “Well who got us out of that mess, I’d like to know?” I muttered as I went to sleep.

  ~~~~~

  I wanted a bath, a nice long hot bath with lavender soap. I wanted to wear clean clothes and put my hair up with a pretty bow. I was tired of mud. Mud on my boots, mud on my face and mud soaked clothes. All could be done without for at least a year. I was done with this adventure. It was not as fun as I had imagined. We broke our fast with the stale bread from the day before and the last of the delicious cheese from home. I saddled Thor somewhat more efficiently today and successfully avoided Ian’s glances. I was in no mood to talk to the oaf as we mounted and rode off. I allowed him to take the lead and decided he could do so until he rode us into a stream or got us lost. My unerring sense of direction would tell me when the idiot made a mistake.

  We rode fast and hard for several hours before slowing to rest the horses. The trees thinned to a lush plain. I figured we would be approaching the coast road soon and from there we could strike north. We could be at McBain’s Doom within a day at this pace. My rear end needed a break from Thor’s mighty back by the time the sun was overhead. Ian called a halt and we walked our mounts back into the shade of the alder trees lining the nearby river. The lure of the fresh water made me thirsty. I pointed toward the water; we moved the horses down the banks of a swiftly flowing stream where all four of us drank our fill. I removed my boots and socks to wade out into the stream. Ian followed still silent.

  The stream had a rocky bottom but was wider down a ways so I headed that direction. The bright sunlight sparkled on the water in spots so bright it hurt my eyes. I found what I was looking for and slowly bent over. Ian started to come up from behind but I held him back with a gesture. I slid my hand slowly into the water, “Come to mama, baby, my sweet baby,” I whispered. Quickly I clasped my hands together as a basket and brought them up out of the water. A trout came along for the ride. Ian caught it before it could jump back down into the cool water. He laughed at my smile.

  “A neat bit of fishing.”

  “I was hungry, or at least I know I’ll be hungry later.”

  “Can you catch another? We can build a fire right here and eat them now, ride longer after dark when the horses are rested.” Ian tossed the trout up onto the bank where it flopped about for a while. I got lucky for two more smallish fish. Ian lost a fourth on the catch but we had enough for a supper. I again gathered wood and Ian cleaned the fish. This time we toasted them over the fire on stout sticks. I salted them from my pack and shared my apples with Ian. I gazed at him openly now. His beautiful face with his cool green eyes, he could have been called Thor. He met my gaze and started his own perusal. I dared myself to be brave and withstand his stare. At home my brothers would have called him out for the audacity but here he thinks I am a strumpet or worse.

  “Are you about done?” I asked.

  “Not really, you are a pretty little thing.”

  “How nice of you to notice beneath my filthy hair and bad hat,” I quoted back to him.

  “Still mad about last night?”

  “Still mad about your assumption that I had marital relations with someone who is not my husband.”

  “My God, you are naïve,” Ian sighed.

  “I don’t know what you mean?” I was getting confused.

  “You don’t sound like a nobody, you don’t sound like a housemaid or cook, and you know so little about life.”

  “I know enough to keep us in food, to keep a wolf at bay and to kill someone in cold blood!” I jumped to my feet to face him. He slowly stood up and walked over to me. He towered above me in my bare feet. I hadn’t realized quite how huge he was.

  “It wasn’t cold blood, it was self defense. You are a brilliant woodsman and whoever taught you, your uncles or your brother, they should be proud. I am sure the ladies of your manor would have died of fright the first night. I admire your skills greatly.”

  Basking for a moment in the glow of his words, I smiled up at him and when he smiled back a funny feeling struck me in the pit of my stomach. I never felt this before and hoped I wasn’t going to be ill. He smiled d
own at me and kissed me on my forehead. Something inside of me was somehow disappointed but I couldn’t figure out why.

  “Ian, why did that man go after us like that? It doesn’t seem normal.”

  “It wasn’t. While you were laying trail with his socks, I removed his dispatches. He was on a mission up here, to bring back an enemy of the crown to London.”

  “One man, alone?”

  “I guess they felt he could do the job alone.”

  “But I killed him.”

  “That you did but I distracted him a bit.”

  “I thought it was my boyish charms that distracted him.”

  “Your charms are hardly boyish, Robin.” Ian held me away from him and gestured. I looked down at my sodden chest and noticed how clearly my breasts were outlined against the thin muslin of my shirt. I quickly pulled my vest together in the front and held out my hand.

  “Let me see those dispatches.” I demanded. He pulled them out and I read through them. Now I had a dilemma; if I was an uneducated house maid I could not show Ian I knew how to read, if I was a regular nobody I would know how to read a bit but certainly not in French and this page was obviously written in French. I spent more time deciding on how to continue my deception than in actually reading the French words of a traitor.

  “What are you thinking?” Ian asked.

  “It’s in French, I think,” I tried to sound confused. “Do you read French?”

  “You can read?”

  “We teach everyone in our estate to read. Don’t you? So yes, I can read but this I can’t make out at all.” I lied.

  Ian looked suspiciously at me. I don’t think he was easily duped. Damn, I spent too long reading the words before handing the dispatches back to him. How do I fix this? Ian helped me out by explaining to me what was written in the papers.

  “Apparently, a chain of safe-houses follow the coast road. Several of these houses shelter French expatriates and nobles who fled France from the new Republic. The secrecy of these houses has been compromised and there is someone who is heading north to arrange for the murder of the refugees and their families.” Ian added a few more details.