Scoundrel’s Redemption (Highlander’s Pact #3)

Chapter Twelve

G reer wasn’t sure why she said it, but she meant it. She wanted to know Teagan before marrying him. To spend time actually talking to a man and learning who he was. His likes and dislikes. If she were going to be forced into yet another marriage, she wanted to feel more connected than she had with her last husband and certainly more than she did with Bartholomew.

“Aye,” Teagan replied. “I would verra much like to meet ye here betwixt now and when we leave and get to know ye better, too, lass.”

The tension in her shoulders lessened at his easy response. “Mother said ’twill be a fortnight before Edmund returns with more men.”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

“Do you think ’twill go as smoothly as she hopes?” It seemed so many things could go wrong. “’Tis hard to imagine Bartholomew bowing out gracefully.”

He did nothing gracefully, and the proof of that was on her arm. She could only be grateful her mother had managed to keep somewhat calm when Bartholomew yanked her out of the gardens to speak alone. She could tell by the fire in her eyes and the clenching of her hands it had taken a great deal of strength, though.

“It may or may not go smoothly.” Teagan nodded with reassurance. “Either way, ’twill happen, Greer. Edmund and I will get all of ye out of here no matter what it takes.”

She glanced at him, curious, sensing something to his passion. “ You have an alternative plan, I take it?”

“Aye, because yer uncle isnae to be trusted.” He shook his head. “In fact, we’re counting on such.”

“I imagine you are,” she said slowly, thinking about that. “So, what is this plan?”

“To leave before Edmund returns,” he revealed. “If all goes well, he will be awaiting us in the woodland fourteen nights from now.”

“’Tis why Edmund took your horse this morn,” she murmured. “Because you will be sneaking the lot of us out of here.”

“Which makes perfect sense,” Margery would have reasoned. “How else would he have done it? In a covered wagon with Ada and the children hiding inside?”

She supposed that wouldn’t make sense, would it? For no other reason than her uncle wouldn’t spare a wagon for any belongings Greer may want to bring.

“Aye, I couldnae leave my horse behind,” Teagan replied. “He’s been a comrade-in-arms for far too long.”

“Though ’twas risky considering the stable boy could say something,” she pointed out, “I understand.”

“He willnae say anything,” he assured. “Like many here, he isnae a big fan of yer uncle.”

“Now that I believe.” While tempted to look at him, she kept her eyes averted out of habit, speaking more freely than she meant to. “So, we’ve a plan, then.”

“Aye, I’m sure Cecille meant to tell ye about it before Bartholomew interrupted.”

She arched her brows in surprise. “How did you know he interrupted us?”

“Because I was watching ye,” he replied more bluntly than she expected. “I was hoping ye might happen this way earlier. When ye didnae, I went in search of ye.”

So Ada was right. “You were waiting here for me?”

“Aye.” His gaze never left her face. “I want to get to know ye better, too, lass. If that means coming here as often as I can on the chance that ye might be here, I will.”

“Oh,” she murmured, not sure what to say to that other than it made her happy. “Then ’twas lucky Bartholomew got called away.”

“’Twas.” His grin told her Edmund might have had something to do with the fortunate timing. “Now, I can only hope the scout we have positioned beyond the castle travels quickly to Edmund, confirming his plan worked so that we might extend Bartholomew’s time away.”

She rounded her eyes. “Certainly, you do not mean…”

“Nay,” he assured when she trailed off, figuring out her presumption easily enough. “Though I admit the idea of ending Bartholomew holds appeal, ’twould be more along the lines of causing continued strife at his estate, so he was forced to stay on.”

“Ah.” Well, that made sense. “It seems you and Edmund thought of everything.”

“’Tis habit,” he explained, sharing how they had spent ample time together during the war. He also revealed that Edmund wasn’t his half-brother but might as well be.

“Then I’m glad Ada and her children have you two helping to free them.” Realizing her gaze lingered on his face, she averted her eyes again.

“Ye dinnae need to do that with me, lass,” he said gently. “Ye dinnae need to look away.”

When she didn’t reply, not sure how she should respond, he made things surprisingly clear.

“Though yer dowry is important to helping my clan, please ken that after we marry, if ye wish to go yer own way, I willnae stop ye.” He shook his head. “I dinnae want to deny ye love if ’tis what ye seek. I can, however, offer ye friendship, respect, honesty, and protection.”

“I do not seek love,” she replied, shocked he made such an offer. “I do believe in friendship, though, and would…like that…with you. ”

She hadn’t meant her response to sound so stunted, but in all honesty, she wasn’t sure such was possible. Could men and women be friends? Had her mother and father been such? She supposed so.

“Good.” When he smiled, her heart skipped a beat. “Then, I look forward to getting to know ye better, Greer.”

She met his smile. “And I, you.”

“Ye ken what that means, aye?”

Her heart sank. What did it mean? What was he going to say? Was this some sort of pre-cursor to lust?

“Just hear the man out before jumping to conclusions,” Margery would say. “As it were, I think if he expected something more personal from you, he would be sitting a whole lot closer.”

“No, what does it mean?” she asked him, bowing her head.

“First, stop doing that as well.” When he tilted her chin up, she pulled back instinctively.

“My apologies.” His tone was as gentle as his touch. “I only meant for ye to look me in the eye as yer equal rather than at the ground as if ye’re my lesser.”

“I…” She searched for the words but simply couldn’t find them. So she fell back on what usually worked. “I’m sorry.”

“Ye’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Though she got the sense he wanted to sigh, he didn’t. “What I meant to say from the start and should have been clear about is that yer days of apologizing for nothing are behind ye. As are yer days of not saying what ye want to say when ye want to say it.”

She looked at him, unsure. “Truly?”

“Truly.” He smiled. “How else will I get to know ye? The real ye?”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure who the real her was anymore. The her before what had happened years ago. The her before her uncle, then her previous husband, and now Bartholomew. She recalled a time when she was more like her mother, but it almost felt like a different life.

“’Twill take time,” she murmured .

“Will it, though?” Margery would have said. “With a man like this, I would think it takes little time at all.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Take all the time ye need. Not just here but as we travel, then at my home. Yer new home.”

“In Scotland,” she said more to herself than him. It seemed such a foreign concept.

“Now, you are just telling yourself falsehoods.” Margery would have rolled her eyes. “At one point in time, we talked about living there. We were going to go on grand adventures, remember?”

She blinked back sudden tears, remembering all too well.

“Are ye all right?” Teagan asked, concerned. “I didnae mean to put so much on ye at once. Truth told, though, there isnae much time left if we hope to get out of England whilst Bartholomew is away.”

“No, all’s well.” She shook her head and stood. “I take no issue with leaving within a fortnight, nor of going to Scotland. I was just…” Though tempted to leave it at that, she found herself telling him the truth. “I just recalled a time when living in Scotland was not such a strange concept.”

His brows perked with good reason. “Really?”

“Yes.” This time she did leave it at that and asked him to join her on the path back to the castle. “Whilst I frequent this spot often, ’tis always best, as a rule, that I do not linger overly long.”

Teagan nodded in understanding. “Now that Bartholomew is gone and I am nae being watched so closely, I expect to be here more often until we leave.” He glanced her way. “How else will I get to know ye?”

She blushed, looking forward to it despite herself. When was the last time she had looked forward to something?

“It has been far too long,” Margery would have said. “And about time.”

“So how are we to sneak out of here with Ada and her children when the time comes?” she asked. “One can see a great deal of the surrounding countryside from the castle walls.”

“Aye, so we will keep to the forest,” he replied, “in the dark of night. ”

“Ah-ha!” Margery would exclaim. “Be gone riding off into the sunset! ’Twill be a gallant, dangerous hero by night after all.”

“What about the jewel?” she asked. “Randolph will pursue us if you don’t leave it. In fact, I expect both him and Bartholomew will be after us.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “Though Edmund will see it delivered to Randolph, we fully expect Randolph and Bartholomew to pursue. Randolph so that he might retrieve his other gems, and Bartholomew out of wounded pride. Therefore, we will be going on a wee bit o’ an adventure before we head to MacLauchlin Castle.”

“What sort of adventure?” she asked, a little breathless. She envisioned all sorts of exciting things. Stealthy, late-night attacks, then open battle in the bright sunlight. She would wield a blade as she’d long imagined, riding on a steed faster than the wind. Gone would be the time when she cowered to a man. Instead, they would cower before her, shaking and trembling and…

“Greer?” Teagan asked, looking at her curiously.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Nothing, ye just seemed somewhere else for a moment.” He smiled. “I do that often, too.”

“What?”

“Think more than most,” he enlightened. “Anyway, as to this adventure, ’twill keep trouble clear of MacLauchlin Castle. We will join up with and possibly fight alongside enough men to make it clear Randolph and Bartholomew best never seek ye and yers out again.”

“Your men, I take it?”

“Mine, Edmund’s, and an allied clan who have agreed to help us.”

“You understand my uncle and Bartholomew have a substantial amount of warriors, yes?”

“Aye.” He grinned. “But, we’ve got the MacLomains.”

“They count many, then?”

“Aye,” he confirmed. “And warriors dinnae come much fiercer.”

“We can only hope.” She shook her head. “Forgive me but— ”

“Nay, no more sorry’s or forgive me’s,” he interrupted. “Those arenae words ye need use with me.”

When she looked at him, still unsure, he reiterated that he wanted her to speak plainly without fear of consequence. He wanted her to speak her mind.

“I tend to agree with him,” Margery would say.

“Me, too,” Ada would add.

“No need for your input,” she said to her Scottish friend, chuckling. “I will talk to you aloud soon enough.”

Teagan merely smiled when she laughed for no reason. Like before, she got the sense he knew she was someplace else in her mind but didn’t make her feel crazed for it. Rather, his expression softened as if he knew precisely what she was about. Perhaps even understood.

“Thank you for that,” she said impulsively, mortified she had replied to her thoughts aloud. But she meant it. She was grateful for his kindness. For being the only other person besides Ada, and perhaps her own mother, who clearly didn’t see her as different.

He looked at her curiously. “Thank ye for what?”

“For helping my friends and me.”

“Quick thinking!” Margery would praise. “That makes sense.”

“Of course, lass.” He steered her around a root in the path. “Is that really what ye meant to say, though?”

How could he possibly suspect that? But then he did seem to understand her in ways most didn’t. Though it was on the tip of her tongue to say yes, she found herself saying no. More shockingly still, she was truthful. “Whilst, yes, I’m thankful for what you are willing to do for my friends, I’m even more grateful for your kindness when you need not be.”

“No need to thank me,” he replied. “Especially when I’m the reason ye have to break yer word to Bartholomew, however cruel he may be, and marry a perfect stranger. Ye do have my apologies for that. As to my kindness, ’tis just how ’tis supposed to be.”

Was it? She wouldn’t know .

She slowed before the woodland path ended. Though it seemed odd to say, she thrilled at saying it. “I will happen this way again in early afternoon.”

“I will be here.” He kissed the back of her hand; the contact and warmth of his lips startling her. More so, the way his gaze lingered on her face as though seeing her again couldn’t come soon enough. As if he genuinely enjoyed her company. Something he confirmed aloud. “And I look forward to it, lass.”

As it turned out, he was a man of his word, for he was there later.

Then later that day still.

Then again the next day and the twelve after that, each time more enjoyable than the last. Each one highly anticipated, every moment an absolute pleasure. Exciting and freeing.

It was the thirteenth day, however, that ended up giving her pause.