style="font-size:15px;"> The knight’s gaze immediately locked upon Tam, whom Iana could feel peeking over her right shoulder. He said nothing about the child, but looked somehow relieved and puzzled and disappointed all at once. Shifting slightly, she felt Tam curl into a ball against her back, hiding herself.
“Why can we not buy food?” the squire demanded, plopping down beside his liege. “You have the silver. Your village is nearby.”
Iana sighed. How could she explain why they must remain hidden without giving them the real reasons? If she were indeed a free woman, what was to stop her from adequately provisioning them for the trip and setting out upon it without this subterfuge?
The knight’s bargain was that she deliver him to Baincroft in return for the silver. If they did not want to trouble themselves with a runaway lady whose brother might be offended enough to punish them if they were caught together, she would be forced to relinquish what was left of the valuable chain, and remain behind. Newell surely would find her then, she would be wed and Tam would likely die when taken away from her.
Iana busied herself apportioning the food as she considered whether she should lie. She could sell the horses and go her own way. But no doubt the owners would be looking for them, expecting the one who took them to try to sell or barter them somewhere. Women did not make such trades or sales. She would be conspicuous, and therefore remembered.
Newell would track her that way as surely as if she left a trail apurpose. No, she must remain with this knight and squire, travel with them for her own protection, and do so in secret. Her brother would be searching for a woman alone.
They both watched her, waiting for her to answer. A half-truth, then, she decided, a play upon their knightly inclinations to protect the weak.
“There is this cruel man who wishes me to marry. If I simply disappear, mayhaps he will forget I exist. However, if he hears that I have acquired silver, the greedy fool might chase me to the ends of the earth.” Her brother might do that anyway.
And Douglas Sturrock might, as well. She still did not know what Newell had promised the man to make him consider the match. Her youth and beauty were gone now, and Duncan had left her nothing, not even her dower lands.
Neither knight nor squire said a word. They merely watched her as though waiting for her to continue.
“This is why I brought you here instead of to my cottage,” she added. “This man would see your presence there as a challenge. I do not wish to be taken by force and made wife to a man who would mistreat me and this child. Nor would I wish you harmed on my account. So we must hide.”
The one called Henri stirred slightly, resettling to make himself more comfortable, she supposed. His measured words surprised her. “This fellow you speak of has not forced you to it yet. And I know the law here prevents wedding a woman against her will.”
“Aye, true enough,” she replied. “But there are many ways to bend one’s will, especially a woman’s.”
“Some men are not kind to their wives, that is true.” He seemed to consider that before he asked, “But why would you worry for the child? Surely this man would not risk the wrath of your husband’s family by harming it. A clan war is nothing to court, so I understand.”
“The child is not of my husband,” she answered, offering no explanation.
“Ah, I see.” He cleared his throat and seemed at a loss for words after that.
The boy spoke instead. “Whose child is she?”
Iana pressed her lips together and looked away. Then she declared defiantly, “Thomasina is mine.”
“What would you have done had we not arrived and given you means to hie yourself away?” the knight asked her.
There was a very good question. Iana shrugged and grimaced. “Eventually surrender, I suppose.”
The lad laughed gleefully and slapped his upraised knee. “Ha! When the snakes return to Eire.”
“What mean you by that, Ev?” the knight demanded.
Everand turned to his master and explained in a condescending voice as he shoved his upraised palm in her direction. “Here stands a woman who has buried one husband, endured living in a hovel among peasants, and breached propriety by sleeping in the wild with two men. She also stole away three mounts from sleeping villagers. You believe such a brave spirit would lie down for some sluggard without stones enough to have taken her already?” He crossed his skinny arms over his chest and tossed her a wink, then added sagely, “I think not.”
Iana saw the knight bite back a smile. “Two men in the wild?” he repeated. “I would say that alone qualifies her as most daring. As you say, it appears she has spirit. Now eat your berries, Ev, and govern that mind and tongue of yours.”
The lad readily obeyed, wearing the smug expression of one who had divined all the answers necessary when no one else present was wise enough to do so.
“You seem much better, sir,” Iana observed, desperate to change the topic of their discussion. “How fares the wound?”
He lightly touched the wrapping, which remained free of new blood. “Painful, but healing, no doubt. I feel much stronger after sleeping for so long. Again, I thank you for your care and for agreeing to accompany us.”
She measured out the oats into her metal pan and added water to soak them soft. “I shall need more than the silver as reward for tending you on your journey,” she dared tell him.
His narrowed eyes warned her against greed, though she did not think what she would ask counted as that.
“I will require employment in this new place. You must speak for my skills with this lord of Baincroft who is your brother.”
“In all truth, we have no blood tie, save that we share a half sister. Our widowed parents wed when we were but lads. So we have a bond forged early that is as unbreakable as true kinship. Robert will make a home for you and the babe at Baincroft if that is your wish.”
If they could only reach the other side of Scotland, all would be well, Iana thought. Newell would never think to look for her so far afield. But the chain’s rich links would not last forever. “I must have your promise of this work, sir, for I shall have no other means of income once the silver you gave me has been used up.”
He looked offended that she would demand his word. “I give you my vow that I will ask my brother to make a place for you. However, he might already have a healer in residence. If so, I do swear that I will provide for you myself.”
“For what services?” she asked, sorely afraid she could guess. His brother was a lord, which meant he must be the younger, making his way as best he could fighting for the French. Such a one would not hand out his hard-earned coin in charity any more than she would whore for it.
Everand growled a suggestive chuckle. Apparently, the thought of her working on her back had occurred to him as well, but the knight’s hand on the lad’s arm cut short whatever he might have said.
“Whatever services you choose to bestow,” Sir Henri answered. “Have I offered by any look, word or deed to besmirch your honor?”
Iana would not be put off by his lofty
