The Recruit (Highland Guard #6)(62)

Sir Adam held her gaze; the compassion she read there nearly undid her. But she could also see the anger. “I loved your husband as a brother, but he had all the sensitivity of an ox. He had no idea how to treat a young bride. I told him so, many times, but …” He shrugged. “He was stubborn and used to doing what he wanted. He said you would adjust.”

“I was very young and naive.”

He grimaced. “That’s no excuse. But are you so sure Sutherland will be the same?” He shook his head. “Lord knows I spent half my time pulling him out of fights when he was young, and he has always been quick to take offense and quicker to use his fists, but the lad always struck me as sensitive.”

Mary tried not to choke. Sensitive? “Are we speaking of the same man? Sir Kenneth Sutherland is too arrogant, too bold, and too popular with the ladies by half.” What does that have to do with us? Those were not the words of a sensitive man. “He would probably take the child from me out of spite for refusing him.”

Sir Adam lifted a brow. “So he did ask you to marry him? I was surprised to think he hadn’t. The lad always had a fierce streak of honor in him.”

Mary refrained from commenting on “the lad.” It wasn’t honor that had precipitated his offer—or rather, non-offer—but Robert the Bruce. Now that he was no longer Bruce’s man, pleasing Bruce would not force his hand. “Please,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Please promise me you will say nothing.”

His gaze fell to her hand. Mary felt her cheeks fire at the unconscious gesture, not realizing how it would seem. She moved it away as inconspicuously as she could.

“It is your secret, Mary. I will not interfere. Not unless you want me to. There are other choices, if you do not wish to marry him. I will protect you any way I can.”

She knew what he was offering, and was deeply touched by it, but she would not do that to him. She would not take advantage of his feelings for her and marry him just to give her child a name. She cared about him too much to hurt him, as her feelings—or lack of them—were bound to do. “I know,” she said softly. “And I thank you for it, but I can do this on my own.”

He nodded as if he’d expected her to say as much. “Then we will go to France in the spring as planned.”

Despite the fact that she had to leave Berwick, Mary felt a surge of relief knowing not all her plans had gone awry. And it was comforting to have someone share her secret.

Sir Adam stood. “I will have my men escort you to Ponteland tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said. He started to turn away, but she stopped him. She couldn’t believe she’d almost forgotten to ask. She took out two silver coins from the bag she wore at her girdle. “I was planning to send a man around to the local churches. Would you do it for me, and give him this for his troubles?”

Mary did not have to explain, and he didn’t have to ask why. Sending men to the local churches to inquire about her sister was a common request. He took the coins reluctantly but did not comment. He didn’t need to. She knew how he felt: that this was a waste of time and money, and that her inability to put her sister’s death behind her was preventing her from moving past it.

The subject of her sister had always been a difficult one between them. Ever since that night, he’d been uncomfortable speaking of Janet. Almost as if he, too, felt some of the blame for what had happened. But he’d had nothing to do with it. If it was anyone’s fault, it was hers.

She glanced out the window again and frowned. This time, it wasn’t just Sir Kenneth and her son, but Sir John as well. They seemed to be having some kind of argument, but after a moment, Davey left without the eager bounce in his step.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It seems Davey has taken a liking to Sir Kenneth, and I admit, it makes me uneasy.”

Sir Adam’s brow furrowed. “You mean you do not know?”

“Know what?”

“It’s the talk of the castle. Sutherland saved the boy’s life.”

By saving the young earl’s life, Kenneth had become an instant hero among the English ranks and, in the process, had made a bitter enemy. If Felton hadn’t liked him before, he despised him now. Not only had the heralded knight been bested by one of the rebels and suffered the indignity of being set on his arse, he’d also nearly been responsible for the death of the young Earl of Atholl. That Kenneth had been the one to save him, he seemed to take as a personal insult. The fact that the young earl seemed to have transferred his idolatry only made it worse.

Kenneth had just learned from the lad that his mother was once again intending to flee, when Felton interrupted and sent the boy on some fool’s errand. “Stay away from my squire, Sutherland. I do not wish the lad to pick up any bad habits, and you are keeping him from his duties.”

Kenneth quirked a brow. “Your squire? I thought David squired for Percy.”

Felton flushed angrily. “As his champion and the best knight in his retinue, Lord Percy has entrusted me with the earl’s training.”

Kenneth wanted to ask him whether that included falling on his arse, but he knew it was wise not to antagonize the knight any further. He was already out for blood as it was, and Kenneth knew Felton would be watching him closely. He needed to keep his temper in check.