The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(26)

Hell, he liked it better when all he could think about was swivving her.

Not wanting her to guess the force of his reaction to her, he managed to nod, more grateful for her help than he wanted to admit.

After some encouraging words from the countess, the woman was on the horse with MacKay a few moments later. As she seemed to have a good idea of the relative riding strengths of the rest of the ladies, he welcomed her suggestions as to the other pairings, and in less time than he would have thought possible they were on their way.

One queen, one princess, two countesses, five lady attendants, a young sister to a king, two earls—one only four years old—and a young knight anxious to prove himself.

Five members of the Highland Guard were all that stood between them and the army of the most powerful and vengeful king in Christendom.

Lachlan gave no acknowledgment of the sense of doom that came over him, but it followed them like a dark, maleficent shadow into the forests and hills of Atholl.

Five

Bella didn’t know how much more of this she could take. Three days of evading the English, while trying to keep more than half their party from falling apart in a panic, had taken its toll. She’d been stretched to the breaking point.

She told herself it was the ever-present fear of what would happen to them if they were captured, the pressure of keeping everyone’s spirits up—especially the children’s—and the bone-weary exhaustion of riding all day and being too scared to sleep well at night.

Her frayed emotions had nothing to do with the man who led them.

“I’m tired,” Lady Mary Bruce said.

Bella’s heart squeezed as she gazed at the girl riding beside her. Every time she looked at Mary she thought of her daughter. The girls were so close in age, even if they were nothing alike in temperament or appearance. Joan was as quiet and reserved as Mary was bold and outspoken, and although both girls were dark in coloring, Mary, at a year older, had already developed a woman’s body. The constant reminder of her daughter caused her pain, but she also felt a fierce protectiveness toward Robert’s youngest sister.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” They were all tired. But they had to keep pushing toward Kildrummy. When they reached the castle they would be safe. She hoped. “Do you wish to ride with Magnus for a while?”

Bella, Queen Elizabeth, Robert’s sister Christina, and the queen’s lady-in-waiting were the only four women who’d been given mounts of their own. The other women and the children were being shuffled around, at times riding on their own, at others riding with one of the men.

After so many hours on the road, certain preferences in riding companions had developed. The four-year-old Earl of Mar, Christina Bruce’s son with her first husband, had taken to riding with her new brother-in-law, Sir Alexander Seton. Christina’s second husband, Christopher, had been missing since Methven, and the fear of what had happened to him hung like a dark cloud over them all. He was one of the greatest knights in Christendom.

Robert’s ten-year-old daughter Marjory by his first wife had been taken under the protection of one of the most intimidating-looking warriors Bella had ever seen. Robert Boyd hailed from the Scottish Marches, and she doubted there was a man on either side of the borders more formidably built. If sheer brute strength counted for anything, the princess was in the best hands. Like Sir Alex, Boyd’s brother was also missing and feared dead.

Mary rode with Magnus or, at times, Lachlan—who seemed willing to share a horse with everyone except Bella. Not that she noticed.

Mary shook her head. “I’m fine. For now.” Bella knew who she was waiting for. She feared Mary had developed a young girl’s tendre for their disreputable leader. Big, anxious dark eyes looked up at her. Her voice came out in a near whisper. “Do you think something happened to them?”

Bella shook her head vehemently. “No,” she said firmly, hearing the fear in the girl’s voice that mirrored her own. “No.”

But where were they? They’d been gone so long. Too long. Lachlan had ridden out with Sir James Douglas and William Gordon after they broke their fast to scout for enemy soldiers or other war parties. It wasn’t just the English after them; their own countrymen were hunting them. The men were constantly taking turns scouting, but they’d never been gone for so long.

“Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

Bella heard her own thoughts echoed in her cousin’s voice. Though Margaret was riding behind them—the narrow mountain pass barely accommodated two—she was close enough to have heard Mary’s question. Her cousin, too, looked worried. And also, Bella thought with a touch of uncharitable resentment, very fragile and scared.

It was exactly how Bella felt, though she could never show it. The other women and children needed someone to be strong, and that someone had turned out to be her. They were looking to her, and she would do whatever she had to do to keep them from falling apart, even … lie. “I’m sure they’ll return soon,” she assured her cousin. “The captain said they would be gone most of the day.”

Mary gave her a look that suggested she was not as believing as her cousin, but neither of them pointed out the day was quickly fading. That it was the heart of summer was one of the only positives about their bleak situation. Unlike her last journey, there was little rain, and the nights in the mountains were cold but not unbearable.