The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(69)

It was Joan. She knew it was Joan.

And she was leaving.

Joan mounted her horse and started to follow the long procession out the gate. A bolt of panic shot through Bella.

She couldn’t just let her daughter go without seeing her. Her feet started moving of their own accord. All she could think was that she had to get closer. Just one look …

Following the path that Lachlan had taken, she shot through the trees. A moment later she heard someone hard on her heels.

Sir Alex grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. They were alone, as Boyd had taken the watch. “Where the hell do you think you are going?” The young knight’s face clouded with embarrassment, realizing what he’d said, he amended, “my lady.”

Bella didn’t care about blasphemies. Her only thought was to reach Joan before she was gone.

“My daughter is leaving.”

He frowned. “How can you be sure?”

“I saw her.”

He shook his head. “Not from that distance. It’s too far to make out her face.”

Bella’s heart was racing. She didn’t have time for this. By time she made it down to the road through the village, Joan would be gone.

She tried to pull away. “I didn’t need to see her face. It was her. I’m certain of it.” She looked into his skeptical eyes. “Don’t you think I’d know my own daughter?”

She heard the rising hysteria in her voice but didn’t care.

“It’s been a few years,” Sir Alex said gently. “She’s probably changed—”

“It’s her,” she insisted, tired of patronizing men, even those who meant well. “I know it’s her.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Please, Sir Alex, I must … I have to see her face. I won’t get too close.” She gazed up at him imploringly, too frantic to care that she was begging him and taking advantage of his chivalrous nature.

He looked torn. “MacRuairi won’t like it. He wanted you to wait here until he got back.”

“But he doesn’t know she’s leaving. He won’t have found her so quickly. He’s going to miss her.” She looked over her shoulder, seeing the party moving through the gate. “Please,” she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks as emotion rose inside her. “There isn’t much time. I can’t let her go without looking at her face.” Her voice caught. “I haven’t seen her in three years.”

Sir Alex swore again. “Viper is going to kill me,” he said under his breath. “Very well, but don’t move an inch from my side.”

Bella would have thrown her arms around him and hugged him, but there wasn’t time. She raced down the path, the grim-faced knight at her side.

When they reached the village, she feared she was too late. The crowd was so thick, it was hard to see the road.

Sir Alex grabbed her arm before she could go farther. “We stay here,” he said firmly.

Bella rose on her tiptoes, trying to see over the deep crowd of villagers, but it was useless. She wasn’t tall enough and the crowd was too dense.

She took a quick look around. The lad’s garb was working; no one was paying any attention to her.

She couldn’t stay here. But it was clear she’d pushed the young knight as far as he would go. Vowing that she would apologize later, the moment Sir Alex lightened his hold, she bolted through the crowd.

She received a few “heys” and “watch it, lads,” but eventually she made it to the edge of the road where she saw that the procession had come to a stop. The loud disgruntled voices behind her she attributed to complaints about Sir Alex, whom she could hear plowing through the crowd in pursuit. Unlike a small lad, the big warrior’s stepping in front of them wasn’t appreciated.

He came up beside her. She didn’t need to look at him to sense the fury emanating from him. “You and I are going to have a long talk if we make it out of this,” he murmured under his breath.

Bella bit her lip, knowing she would feel guilty later, but right now she was too busy trying to find—

Her stomach knifed. A soft cry tore from her throat as her gaze fastened on the achingly familiar face of the lady in the scarlet gown.

It was her daughter. She’d known it, but seeing her face …

Her heart clenched. It was different.

Joan stood not a dozen yards away, deep in conversation with a merchant who was holding a stream of colorful ribbons to her head. She appeared to be amused by the old man’s spirited attempt to sell her something, and a reserved smile tugged the edges of her mouth.

Smiling. Joan was smiling.

Some of the fear Bella had been holding inside let go. From all appearances her daughter was well.

But God, how she’d changed! The last time Bella had seen her, Joan had been like a colt: all long limbs and slightly too-large features, charmingly awkward as she stood poised on the cusp of womanhood.

But she’d still been a girl. Now she looked …

Bella’s chest squeezed. She looked like a young woman. Though only four-and-ten, Joan appeared much older. The large features of girlhood now seemed refined and perfectly at place in her gently sculpted, heart-shaped face. With her big blue eyes, pale skin, dark hair, and regal features, her daughter had become a beauty.

The resemblance to her father was marked. In fact, except for her eyes—which were dark blue and wide set like hers—she looked nothing like Bella. She was even built differently. Whereas Bella was of middling height and until recently had always tended toward the curvaceous, Joan was tall and slim, her curves undeniably feminine but more modest in proportions.