Highland Warlord - Amy Jarecki Page 0,10
from his thoughts.
“Oh?” James asked, annoyed. “Why the bloody hell not?”
“Och, she’s bonny and all, but I’ve more important things to tend to than women.”
“As do I. I’ll be riding for Douglas lands as soon as the king has received the oaths of fealty on the morrow.” With a wee detour, but Boyd doesn’t need to know about that.
“Douglas? What? Are you planning to face Clifford on your own?”
“I aim to assemble my men first. Then Clifford will wish he’d never set foot in Scotland.”
“You have a pair of cods, I’ll give you that.”
“Best compliment I’ve ever had from the likes of you.”
“Do not grow accustomed to it.”
“I’m nay planning to.”
Boyd yammered on, but James tuned him out. He was too busy watching Campbell take the lass by the elbow and accompany her out the door. If only James could follow and whisper a warning in her ear.
Blast it all, why did he care?
I don’t. Only after I regain my lands and rid Scotland of Edward’s vermin will I ever allow myself to care for any woman.
Chapter Three
After Ailish kneeled before the king and pledged to honor and obey his royal decrees on behalf of her brother and Clan Maxwell, she changed into her heavy woolen nun’s habit and readied the mule for the long return journey to the priory.
She tied her satchel to the saddle and patted the gelding’s hip. “I’ll walk for a time. The old nag will make it farther that way.”
Coira raised her skirts enough to reveal her booted foot. “I’m the one who ought to be walking.”
“Och aye? And annoy your rheumatism?” Ailish tugged either side of her attendant’s veil and gave a warm smile. “Ye ken you’d last but three-quarters of an hour afore your knees started swelling.”
“I am not an invalid, m’lady,” Coira replied as she turned in place. “I thought you said we were to be escorted by one of the king’s men. If I may say so, we’re all but being ignored.”
“Before I took my oath the steward told me a knight would meet us right here under this oak tree when the bell rings the tenth hour.” As Ailish spoke the words, the tower bell began to toll. “See? We’re exactly on time.”
Coira craned her neck, searching the clusters of people milling about. It seemed everyone was busy readying for their journeys. “Now all we must do is to find our escort.”
Ailish squinted, peering into the stable’s dark corridor. “I was rather hoping he and his retinue would find us. I see no other nuns about.”
“Does he ken we’re disguised as nuns?”
“I told the king we’d traveled to Scone wearing habits.”
Coira snorted as she pulled the bridle up over the mule’s nose and slid the bit into his mouth. “I’ll wager our man has no idea.”
“Patience.” A number of people came out leading their horses, but nary a one paid them a mind. Then Ailish’s breath stopped when a knight clad in full armor from head to toe led an enormous black palfry out of the stable. And once she saw him in the light, she recognized yesterday’s champion, James Douglas—the hero who had saved the king only moments after the Bruce had been crowned. Surely a man such as he would stride past without giving them a second glance. He might have offered her a wee grin at last eve’s ceremony, but the man was obviously far too important to be assigned to the ordinary task of accompanying a mere woman home.
Pretending to be unaffected by the braw Highlander, she shifted her gaze beyond him.
Goodness, her fingers trembled. What was it about Douglas? Several knights had already walked past, why did this one make her so self-aware? Truth be told, traveling with a man like Sir James would be distracting. And Ailish could not afford to be distracted in any way. She had protected her younger brother and sister for six years and they were her only care. Her sworn duty was to guard Harris with her life, and she must continue to do so no matter what may come.
Besides, the king was as intelligent as he was shrewd. Surely, he’d appoint an old knight—a wizened man, weary from years of battle—to see her safely returned to her kin.
“I beg your pardon, Sister,” said Sir James in a very deep-sounding brogue. He stopped beside her, though she didn’t dare meet the hard stare she sensed was boring through her veil. “You wouldn’t be the lass…er…the nuns in need of