The Scot's Pursuit - Keira Montclair Page 0,29
much as he did the prospect of bringing his wife home.
Chapter Nine
Branwen followed her wee brother outside, something she did every day after they broke their fast. Nab was always busy and it was her duty to follow him and see to his safety.
They’d been outside for nearly an hour, playing in the courtyard, when her sire came in from the stables. Branwen wasn’t sure where he’d been—he’d gone off this morn without a word, and he hadn’t spoken to her last eve either. She still didn’t know whether her uncle had told him about Alick’s request for her hand.
“Nab, go inside,” Papa said. “Branwen, you will come with me.”
The look on his face told her not to argue, and to her surprise, Roy came to get Nab and ushered him into the keep. Roy never helped with Nab, or with anything. The smug look on his face did not bode well for her. Once they were outside the gates, her father pointed to her horse and said, “Mount up. I had the maid pack your things. You will follow me to Osbert’s village.”
“But Papa, did Uncle William speak with you?”
Her father turned to her and actually smiled, something she rarely saw. “He did, but I just wish for you to meet Osbert’s bairns before you make any hasty decisions. A quick journey there and back.”
She sighed, giving in to the inevitable. She knew her sire well enough to know it was impossible to talk him out of something. Besides which, he could not force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. She was already married—although if she told him now, she feared how he might react. If he’d slapped her for dancing with Alick, what would he do if he found out she’d married him?
Mounting the horse, she glanced at the sack that hung from the saddle, surprised to see the size of it.
What had Fia packed for her? A sick feeling in her belly told her she might need some protection. She hoped her new dagger was in the bag.
The trip took two hours, but they rode in silence the whole way. The village consisted of about twenty huts clustered around a well and a small courtyard, a river not far away. A few people worked the land off to the side. She scanned the area for a keep or a castle, but the village was off the regular path, so she guessed they lived there without a laird.
They stopped at one of the larger huts, and Osbert came out to greet them, hastening to her side and grabbing her by the waist to help her dismount. She didn’t even like the feel of his hands on her clothing. He looked as if he’d cleaned up for her, wearing a leine shirt and breeches. His hair was neatly combed, and she realized he wasn’t a homely man.
Nowhere near as handsome as Alick MacNicol, but he appeared pleasant enough this morn.
“Branwen, go inside,” her sire said. “We’ll be directly behind you.”
Osbert said, “My eldest daughter, Lora, awaits you inside. She’ll introduce you to the others.”
Her stomach clenched, simply because she didn’t want to know his bairns, but she did as she was told. The lass inside couldn’t be more than a few years younger than her. Her straight red hair, nearly brown, was plaited back away from her face, and she had a lovely smile and dimples. “This way, my lady.”
Branwen said, “You may call me Branwen. No need for titles here.” Lora nodded and led her into the back chamber where three younger girls sat huddled on the floor while two lads fought off to the side. The lads she guessed to be seven and maybe five summers, while the girls were scattered around them in age.
The youngest was quite beautiful with angelic eyes. She stared up at Branwen and said, “Are you going to be my new mama?”
Startled, Branwen said, “Nay. I’m just visiting.”
Lora reacted in a way that told her that wasn’t what they’d been told. She grabbed the two boys and separated them, saying, “You are to greet Lady Branwen.”
They stopped for only a short moment before launching into an argument over something else. “Pay them no mind,” Lora said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They always fight.”
She sat on a nearby stool, wondering why she had been brought here. Something told her this visit was more than what her father had described it to be. Looking into Lora’s eyes, she