Read Online The Border Lord's Bride by Bertrice Small - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bertrice Small
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illuminating the path through the forest. Just before dawn, when the sky had lightened to a pale gray, she crossed the meadow where they had camped the night before she reached Lochearn. She was gratified to have made such progress despite her slow pace. She stopped by the stream on the border of the meadow to water her horse and let it crop some of the green grass, while she tore off chunks of her loaf and slowly ate the bread. Then, relieving herself behind a bush, she mounted up again.
She rode the day long, never seeing a soul. Now and again she would see a deer, or a rabbit would dash from the underbrush into the deeper wood. There was sun, but it was a cold sun.
Ellen could already feel the Highland winter coming, and there was snow on the tops of the far, high bens. She did not relish spending the night alone, but as the autumn day began to wane she considered that she had best seek shelter. Ahead of her she saw a fox on the hunt, a sure sign of day‘s end. The light breeze that had teased at her hair all day disappeared, and above, in the blue sky, a hawk skreeked.
Then ahead of her Ellen heard voices. Her first instinct was increase her horse‘s gait, but she realized that while she might have finally caught up to the laird and his men, she might not have.
Dismounting, she led her animal forward, keeping to the wood on the edge of the track so she would not be easily detected. There was a clearing, a stone overhang, a fire, a group of travelers.
She counted the horses tied to the trees. Seven. Aye, that was right. The laird and his six men.
And then she saw him. He stood three inches over six feet, and when he turned Ellen saw his face—his handsome, familiar face.
She stumbled forward with a glad cry, dragging her horse behind her. At once the party of clansmen were on the alert, but the laird recognized her at once. He hurried forward to greet her.
"Mistress Ellen, what has happened? Are you all right?" And then he saw the bruise on her cheek. His blue eyes darkened with anger.
"Help me!" Ellen managed to gasp out the two words, and then she collapsed.
He caught her as she fell, gathering her up in his strong arms. "There, lass, there. Tell me what has happened." His face showed his concern as his arms tightened about her. "Give me some of your whiskey, Jock," he said to one of his men.
"I have killed Balgair MacArthur," Ellen said, and then she began to cry.
The laird nodded. "Are you sure?" he asked her. "Here, take a sip of this," he said, holding his clansman‘s flask to her lips. "You looked chilled through."
Still sobbing, Ellen swallowed twice, and then coughed hard. "He wasn‘t moving when I left him," she said. "Nor was he making any sound."
"Start from the beginning and tell me everything," Duncan Armstrong said. He set her down on her feet and helped her to sit on one of the large stones about the fire.
"After you left, the women and I prepared Grandsire and Donald for burial. Father Birk said the words just before the sunset. When I went back into the hall I found Balgair with Anice, a foundling raised in our village who had been my servant. I had to send her home from court for her wanton behavior. He has made her his mistress, and she is already with child. I asked Balgair if I might retire, as my day—the last few days—had been difficult. He agreed. The servants fed me, and I went to my chamber, where I washed and then went to bed. I had probably been sleeping no more than an hour or two when I was awakened by Balgair entering my chamber. I asked him to leave, and he laughed. He said he had promised not to wed me for my month of mourning, but he had not promised not to bed me. And then…" Ellen faltered. "I killed him," she finally managed to say, and then she began to cry.
He had to ask it. It wasn‘t the gentlemanly thing to do, but he had to ask. "Did he rape you, Ellen?"
She looked up at him, startled. "He tried," she finally replied. "But I have always kept my dirk
She rode the day long, never seeing a soul. Now and again she would see a deer, or a rabbit would dash from the underbrush into the deeper wood. There was sun, but it was a cold sun.
Ellen could already feel the Highland winter coming, and there was snow on the tops of the far, high bens. She did not relish spending the night alone, but as the autumn day began to wane she considered that she had best seek shelter. Ahead of her she saw a fox on the hunt, a sure sign of day‘s end. The light breeze that had teased at her hair all day disappeared, and above, in the blue sky, a hawk skreeked.
Then ahead of her Ellen heard voices. Her first instinct was increase her horse‘s gait, but she realized that while she might have finally caught up to the laird and his men, she might not have.
Dismounting, she led her animal forward, keeping to the wood on the edge of the track so she would not be easily detected. There was a clearing, a stone overhang, a fire, a group of travelers.
She counted the horses tied to the trees. Seven. Aye, that was right. The laird and his six men.
And then she saw him. He stood three inches over six feet, and when he turned Ellen saw his face—his handsome, familiar face.
She stumbled forward with a glad cry, dragging her horse behind her. At once the party of clansmen were on the alert, but the laird recognized her at once. He hurried forward to greet her.
"Mistress Ellen, what has happened? Are you all right?" And then he saw the bruise on her cheek. His blue eyes darkened with anger.
"Help me!" Ellen managed to gasp out the two words, and then she collapsed.
He caught her as she fell, gathering her up in his strong arms. "There, lass, there. Tell me what has happened." His face showed his concern as his arms tightened about her. "Give me some of your whiskey, Jock," he said to one of his men.
"I have killed Balgair MacArthur," Ellen said, and then she began to cry.
The laird nodded. "Are you sure?" he asked her. "Here, take a sip of this," he said, holding his clansman‘s flask to her lips. "You looked chilled through."
Still sobbing, Ellen swallowed twice, and then coughed hard. "He wasn‘t moving when I left him," she said. "Nor was he making any sound."
"Start from the beginning and tell me everything," Duncan Armstrong said. He set her down on her feet and helped her to sit on one of the large stones about the fire.
"After you left, the women and I prepared Grandsire and Donald for burial. Father Birk said the words just before the sunset. When I went back into the hall I found Balgair with Anice, a foundling raised in our village who had been my servant. I had to send her home from court for her wanton behavior. He has made her his mistress, and she is already with child. I asked Balgair if I might retire, as my day—the last few days—had been difficult. He agreed. The servants fed me, and I went to my chamber, where I washed and then went to bed. I had probably been sleeping no more than an hour or two when I was awakened by Balgair entering my chamber. I asked him to leave, and he laughed. He said he had promised not to wed me for my month of mourning, but he had not promised not to bed me. And then…" Ellen faltered. "I killed him," she finally managed to say, and then she began to cry.
He had to ask it. It wasn‘t the gentlemanly thing to do, but he had to ask. "Did he rape you, Ellen?"
She looked up at him, startled. "He tried," she finally replied. "But I have always kept my dirk
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