Mother Serenity had been working with Mairin to form a list of possible candidates for marriage. Mairin hadn’t wanted a warrior, but she’d recognized the need to have one as her husband. From the moment she claimed her legacy, her husband would have to spend the rest of his life defending it from greedy, power-hungry men.
Wasn’t that the way of the world, though? Only the strong survived, and the weak perished.
She frowned. Nay, that wasn’t true. God protected the weak. Perhaps that’s why he made warriors, so they could protect women and children. Which meant Duncan Cameron could only be of the devil.
With a sigh, she planted her hands down on the sun-warmed ground, intending to push herself to her feet so she could return to her room to best plot her escape. Before she could fully rise, she saw Crispen running up the hillside, waving his hand to her.
She sank back to the ground and waited for him to catch up to her. His face split into a wide grin and he flopped onto the ground beside her.
“Are you feeling more yourself today?” he asked politely.
“I feel much better. I’ve been moving about to work out the soreness.”
He snuggled into her side. “I’m glad. Did you speak to Papa?”
Mairin sighed. “I did.”
Crispen beamed up at her. “I told you he would ta care of everything.”
“Indeed you did,” she murmured.
“So are you staying?”
The hopeful expression on his face made her heart melt. She wrapped her arm around him and squeezed tight. “I can’t stay, Crispen. You must know that. There are men besides Duncan Cameron who would abduct me if they knew who I was.”
Crispen’s face crinkled until his nose twitched. “Why?”
“ ’Tis complicated,” she murmured. “I wish it were different, but Mother Serenity always told me we have to make the best with what we have.”
“When will you leave and where will you go? Will I see you again?”
Here she had to tread lightly. She couldn’t have Crispen running to his father with news of her departure. Now that she’d made the decision to leave on her own, she didn’t want the laird interfering with his demand to trust him. She nearly snorted at that notion. He might be able to command his clan to trust him, and she was sure it did, but a woman in her position couldn’t afford to trust anyone.
“I don’t know yet. Departures take planning.”
He turned his chin up so that he was looking up into her eyes. “Will you tell me before you leave so I can say good-bye?”
Her heart ached at the idea of leaving the lad she’d grown so fond of over the past days. But she wouldn’t lie and tell him she would when she knew well that she wouldn’t be announcing her departure to anyone.
“I can’t promise, Crispen. Perhaps we should say our good-byes now so that we’re sure to say everything we want to say.”
He rose up and flung his arms around her, nearly knocking her back to the ground.
“I love you,” he said fiercely. “I don’t want you to go.”
She hugged him to her and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you, too, dearling. I’ll always keep you close in my heart.”
“Promise?”
She smiled. “That I can promise, and I do.”
“Will you sit by me for the evening meal tonight?”
Since she didn’t plan to leave until everyone else was abed, his request was reasonable enough. She nodded, and he beamed back at her.
A shout went up from the courtyard that Mairin and Crispen heard all the way up the hillside. She turned in the direction of the noise to see a procession of soldiers on horses parading over the bridge and into the keep.
Crispen launched himself from her hold and ran several feet before stopping. “A0;’Tis Uncle Caelen! He’s back!”
“Then of course you must go greet him,” Mairin said with a smile.
He ran back to her and grabbed her hand, attempting to pull her up. “You come, too.”
She shook her head and pulled her hand away. “I’ll just stay here. You go ahead. I’ll be along in a little while.”
The last thing she needed was to make the acquaintance of yet another McCabe brother. She shuddered. He was probably just as infuriating as Ewan and Alaric.
Ewan arrived to greet Caelen just as Caelen slid from his horse and strode in Ewan’s direction.
“Is it true? Has Crispen been returned?” Caelen demanded.
“Aye, ’tis true. Alaric brought him home yesterday.”
“Well, where is the little brat?”
Ewan smiled just as Crispen tore through the courtyard shouting “Uncle Caelen” at the top of his lungs. Caelen went white and staggered backward before righting himself and catching the mass of wiggling boy that hurled himself into Caelen’s arms.
“God be praised,” Caelen breathed. “You’re alive.”
Crispen threw his arms around Caelen’s neck and hung on for dear life. “I’m sorry, Uncle Caelen. I didn’t mean to frighten you and Papa. But don’t worry, Mairin took good care of me.”
Ewan’s eyebrows went up. Beside him Alaric also took note of Crispen’s slip.
Caelen scowled over Crispen’s head at Ewan. “Who the hell is Mairin?”
Crispen went rigid in Caelen’s arms, and then he struggled until Caelen finally put him down. He turned stricken eyes toward Ewan, torment in his gaze.
“Oh nay, Papa, I broke my promise. I broke it!”
Ewan reached for his son and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “You didn’t mean to, son. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll order Alaric and Caelen to forget it immediately.”