Beyond a Doubt(3)

“Ye are alone?”

“I’m afraid so. Not by choice, mind you. The beggar swiped my clothes, horse, and food. It was by God’s grace I have a hearty constitution and the ample ability to walk or I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

Bryce said nothing.

“So what food stores do you have?”

He pinched a piece of salted meat between two fingers and held it up.

“Ah. We will stop in the next town for supplies, I suppose.”

He stopped chewing.

While she spoke, her hands nervously fluttered about. “Of course, my previous companion escaped with my funds, so I will have need of yours. Rest assured, once we reach my destination all will be repaid.”

“I have no funds.”

“But surely you’re not traveling without some means of monetary support?”

“Aye, I am. I have all I need.”

“What? A horse, a tunic, a soggy pair of trews, and salted meat? I refuse to live on dried-out meat for the continuation of this journey.”

“Verra well. I’m out of the meat, anyway.”

“What? Surely you jest, Mister Cameron.”

“Afraid not.” Bryce finished chewing the tough meat. He slapped his thighs. His eyebrow rose. “By the way, lass, I don’t believe ye gave me yer name.”

“My name? Oh, yes, of course. My name is Lucy Lom—“ She paused and gnawed her lip. Perhaps it was best not to give her real name. The less he knew, the better off he would be. She continued, “Bard, Lucy Bard is my name.”

“All right, Lucy Bard. And where are ye goin’ exactly in England?”

“Well I must hasten to London.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. If Bryce had been a talker, he would surely have protested, but instead he shook his head.

For now Lucy was content with the quiet acceptance. As long as she continued on course, she would arrive in London in plenty of time.





Chapter Six




Bryce slept away from the fire, allowing Lucy to be close to the blaze and its warmth. He folded his arms for a pillow. A cool breeze blew, moving leaves and limbs. Stars overhead twinkled; the moon shone brightly. Bryce was at an impasse. Promises were meant to be kept. Indeed the young lass had asked for his help, and he had readily accepted, before he knew the extent of the agreement.

Home had been within his grasp. If he’d walked on and forgotten the bath, he might have been there by now. A roaring fire would have greeted him. Back slapping, well wishes, and fond words would have been spoken. The Cameron laird, his uncle Valan Cameron, would have welcomed him. A feast would have been thrown in his honor. News of Grant’s impending return would have soared within their breasts and brought smiles to their lips.

But instead he slept upon the cold, hard ground. A foreign woman berated him for his lack of food and funds. How long would it take him to travel to London and back home? How long could they go without supplies? How was he going to feed them and the horse?

With a sigh, Bryce rolled onto his side. Perhaps tomorrow would look more hopeful. At last sleep overcame him.

****

They traveled by foot the next day, allowing the horse to rest. An uncommon heat covered the land. Inside a small leather pouch which dangled from her wrist, Lucy carried everything she owned. Tucked neatly away was the Chinese dancing fan, called the Mai Ogi, made with slates of tortoise shell and covered in thick fabric.

Lucy fingered the fan and sighed. Charlie may have stolen her trunk and everything within, but in leaving behind the fan, he’d lost the most valuable object of all.

She waved the fan, generating a breeze against her flushed skin. How could she have been so stupid? Charlie had obviously been a nefarious character. Tall and gangly, his black hair combed to the right and greased into place, his pencil-thin mustache turned upwards at the corners. She had thought him debonair, dashing.

The man had talked continuously, like a braggart. The boasting should have been a dead giveaway to his character. Or at least his knowledge and adeptness at thievery should have caught her attention. But Lucy had turned a blind eye to these things. Charm and charisma had overridden her common sense.

“Miss, would ye like to ride now?”

Startled by the question, she answered, “What? Oh, aye. I would indeed.”

Bryce shifted the pack toward the horse’s hindquarters and smoothed a blanket over its back before helping her mount. Once she was in place, he surprised her by slinging himself up behind her. Then Bryce reached his arms around her sides and grabbed the reins. He clicked his tongue and the horse trotted forward.

Lucy held her spine erect and leaned away from Bryce’s frame. Within minutes her back trembled with pain. “Do you mind if I lean against you? This position is terribly uncomfortable.”

“Would ye like me to move?”

“Nay, of course not. I’m sure you are as tired as I. But would you mind if I relaxed my posture?”

Time passed and there was no reply. A look over her shoulder revealed the huge Scot gnawing upon his lip. His eyebrows knitted together.

“Bryce?”

“Aye?”

“May I have an answer? My back is in a rather awkward position.”

“Aye.”

“Does this mean you will give me an answer or is that my answer?”

“I don’t think Crissy will like it.”

“Pardon?”

“Crissy, my lass back home.”

“Oh.” So Bryce was taken. With a sigh, Lucy shifted, intending to get off the horse. The young man obviously didn’t wish to be touched by her and to stay upon the moving beast in so awkward a position would never do. Feet swollen with blisters would be preferable to a stiff back.

“Where are ye going?”

“Bryce, if I cannot lean back, my spine will break in two. Therefore I believe I will walk, if you don’t mind.”

Before she could move further, Bryce pulled her back. Within minutes the sway of the horse and the warmth of his chest lulled her into a deep sleep.

****

All the way to London, ran over and over through his mind. When Bryce had promised to help the lass, he had thought about dropping her at the next local town. Although that didn’t seem possible, it would have to be. Bryce would tell Lucy he would deliver her no further than Carlisle. From there she could secure a more suitable escort.

As Lucy fell against him, a soft snore emitted from her parted lips. Shifting upon the horse’s back, Bryce wondered, Who is this woman? Lucy Bard, she’d said. She claimed her escort ran away with all her possessions. The escort probably left because of her sharp mouth. The woman didn’t cater to silence.

A smile tugged the corner of his lips as he glanced at the charge in front of him. Short and thin, with cute brown eyes which took on a golden hue when rankled, the lass might be considered attractive.

Brown locks caressed her neck and face, loosed from an earlier coiffure. A sniff of the air revealed that her hair smelled like a summer rain. The clothing the lass wore needed repair. The former rose-colored gown was spotted with tinges of brown and green, from dirt and grass stains. The lacy edge looked trampled and dirty. Shoes of the finest brocade, with a soft sole and a cork heel of around one inch, peeled apart. Pain emanated in his feet at the thought of walking in such finery.

Crissy would be appalled that he’d concentrated so intently on another woman and her clothing.

Come to think of it, he wondered what his Scottish lass was doing. The two of them hadn’t exactly spoken of commitment before he’d left. In fact, Crissy had stayed away during those last few days.

In all the time they had known each other, neither of them had come right out and expressed words of love. When he’d willed himself to discuss the issue, Crissy had changed the subject. His personal opinion on the matter was that she’d avoided a relationship because she thought he was leaving for the Sinclair keep permanently.

Bryce didn’t blame the hesitation. Crissy just didn’t understand love. Although young and inexperienced in the ways of men, she would understand in time.

Bryce had sent letters to Crissy time and time again. Within the pages, he’d expressed his feelings. Hopes and dreams of a life, a family, and a farm flowed from his hand. And even though Crissy never replied, Bryce’s hope remained high. The winning of the lass could and would be accomplished by his gentlemanly ways, of that he held no doubts.

The rest of the day the couple traveled in silence. Bryce thought of home. Who knew what Lucy thought on? The lass only spoke when she needed relief. Once that desire was fulfilled, they climbed back on the horse and continued on.

By afternoon they reached a small settlement. A few buildings dotted the area beside the road.

Within the dwellings, Bryce hoped to find food. Dismounting and helping Lucy to the ground, he bid her stay behind.

“I’ll ask around. Ye stay with the horse.”