The Pirate's Duty (Regent's Revenge #3)(86)

Angus cleared his throat and recaptured Marion’s attention. Without warning, his hand closed over her shoulder, and he squeezed gently. “I’m sorry te say it so plain, but ye must die at once.”

Her eyes widened as dread settled in the pit of her stomach. “What? Why?” The sudden fear she felt was unreasonable. She knew he didn’t mean she was really going to die, but her palms were sweating and her lungs had tightened all the same. She sucked in air and wiped her damp hands down the length of her cotton skirts. Suddenly, the idea of going to a foreign land and living with her mother’s clan, people she’d never met, made her apprehensive.

She didn’t even know if the MacDonalds—her uncle, in particular, who was now the laird—would accept her or not. She was half-English, after all, and Angus had told her that when a Scot considered her English bloodline and the fact that she’d been raised there, they would most likely brand her fully English, which was not a good thing in a Scottish mind. And if her uncle was anything like her grandfather had been, the man was not going to be very reasonable. But she didn’t have any other family to turn to who would dare defy her father, and Angus hadn’t offered for her to go to his clan, so she’d not asked. He likely didn’t want to bring trouble to his clan’s doorstep, and she didn’t blame him.

Panic bubbled inside her. She needed more time, even if it was only the day she’d thought she had, to gather her courage.

“Why must I flee tonight? I was to teach Eustice how to dress a wound. She might serve as a maid, but then she will be able to help the knights when I’m gone. And her little brother, Bernard, needs a few more lessons before he’s mastered writing his name and reading. And Eustice’s youngest sister has begged me to speak to Father about allowing her to visit her mother next week.”

“Ye kinnae watch out for everyone here anymore, Marion.”

She placed her hand over his on her shoulder. “Neither can you.”

Their gazes locked in understanding and disagreement.

He slipped his hand from her shoulder, and then crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture that screamed stubborn, unyielding protector. “If I leave at the same time ye feign yer death,” he said, changing the subject, “it could stir yer father’s suspicion and make him ask questions when none need te be asked. I’ll be going home te Scotland soon after ye.” Angus reached into a satchel attached to his horse and pulled out a dagger, which he slipped to her. “I had this made for ye.”

Marion took the weapon and turned it over, her heart pounding. “It’s beautiful.” She held it by its black handle while withdrawing it from the sheath and examining it. “It’s much sharper than the one I have.”

“Aye,” he said grimly. “It is. Dunnae forget that just because I taught ye te wield a dagger does nae mean ye can defend yerself from all harm. Listen te my cousin and do as he says. Follow his lead.”

She gave a tight nod. “I will. But why must I leave now and not tomorrow?”

Concern filled Angus’s eyes. “Because I ran into Froste’s brother in town and he told me that Froste sent word that he would be arriving in two days.”

Marion gasped. “That’s earlier than expected.”

“Aye,” Angus said and took her arm with gentle authority. “So ye must go now. I’d rather be trying te trick only yer father than yer father, Froste, and his savage knights. I want ye long gone and yer death accepted when Froste arrives.”

She shivered as her mind began to race with all that could go wrong.

“I see the worry darkening yer green eyes,” Angus said, interrupting her thoughts. He whipped off his hat and his hair, still shockingly red in spite of his years, fell down around his shoulders. He only ever wore it that way when he was riding. He said the wind in his hair reminded him of riding his own horse when he was in Scotland. “I was going to talk to ye tonight, but now that I kinnae…” He shifted from foot to foot, as if uncomfortable. “I want te offer ye something. I’d have proposed it sooner, but I did nae want ye te feel ye had te take my offer so as nae te hurt me, but I kinnae hold my tongue, even so.”

She furrowed her brow. “What is it?”

“I’d be proud if ye wanted te stay with the MacLeod clan instead of going te the MacDonalds. Then ye’d nae have te leave everyone ye ken behind. Ye’d have me.”

A surge of relief filled her. She threw her arms around Angus, and he returned her hug quick and hard before setting her away. Her eyes misted at once. “I had hoped you would ask me,” she admitted.

For a moment, he looked astonished, but then he spoke. “Yer mother risked her life te come into MacLeod territory at a time when we were fighting terrible with the MacDonalds, as ye well ken.”

Marion nodded. She knew the story of how Angus had ended up here. He’d told her many times. Her mother had been somewhat of a renowned healer from a young age, and when Angus’s wife had a hard birthing, her mother had gone to help. The knowledge that his wife and child had died anyway still made Marion want to cry.

“I pledged my life te keep yer mother safe for the kindness she’d done me, which brought me here, but, lass, long ago ye became like a daughter te me, and I pledge the rest of my miserable life te defending ye.”

She gripped Angus’s hand. “I wish you were my father.”