Page 70 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

“Och lass. Once ye reach Castle MacLeod ye can alert yer braithers. Mayhap they’ll ride out and add their strength tae ours if it comes tae a clash with Bairre.”

Then he pulled her into his arms again for a long, sad and lonely kiss.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

All too quickly Dahlia had bundled her few items into the saddle bags and was ready to ride. She spent a few minutes with Emilia and Beattie. The maid had happily took on the role of caring for Emilia with Dahlia gone.

Emilia reached a hand to clasp Dahlia’s. “I thank ye lass fer yer affection and care. I ken Beattie will tend tae me needs with great kindness also. It willnae be long before I am strong enough tae ride and we will all be reunited at yer family’s home.”

Tears were rolling down Dahlia’s cheeks as she farewelled Arran.

“I’ll nae pretend I am nae fashed fer ye. I ken Bairre will come with many guards, ready tae fight, and he’ll nae spare ye this time if he has a chance tae run ye through with his sword.”

Arran only laughed at this. “I’m a better swordsman than Bairre. I’m nae afraid of me half-braither. Me only concern is thevengeance he might seek on both ye and me maither. Ye’ll be safe with Craig and he’ll take ye tae yer braithers.”

The track they were taking was not far from the bothy. It would take them down the mountain and from there they would reach the main road leading them to into her clan’s lands.

He kissed Dahlia’s tears away and embraced her again for one last kiss. Then he hoisted her onto the back of her mare, giving it a slight tap with his hand on the haunches and she took off at a gentle trot down the track. He stood and watched until they disappeared into the woods far below. It came as a surprise to discover his own tears moistening his cheeks.

Dahlia and Craig had not been gone long when Nicol rode up. He carried a large leather satchel into the bothy and unpacked a selection of tiny clay bottles which he lined up on the table in front of Emilia.

“This one is a mixture tae give ye a good night’s sleep,” he held up the first bottle and lined up the others. “And these are special concoctions of Nell’s. This one,” he gestured toward the first, “will make yer cheeks glow, this next one will bring the breath back intae yer body, and this,” he tapped the largest, final bottle, “will make ye strong,”

“Mistress Nell says if ye take a spoonful of each of these before ye go tae bed at night, ye’ll be raring tae go come the morning.”

Emilia chuckled. “I cannae wait. I am eager tae be gone from this place.”

Nicol looked around and raised a quizzical eyebrow at Arran. “Melady Dahlia and melord Donald?”

“Craig is escorting the lady to her home. They should be there by nightfall.” He glanced at Emilia and Beattie, who were examining the bottles. “And if Mistress Nell’s potions work their magic, we shall be on the road north before morning.”

Once night fell, Emilia yawned. “I dinnae think I can stay awake much longer.” She rubbed her eyes. Although she was still weak, her voice was stronger and the color was back in her cheeks.

Beattie dished up the last of the rabbit stew which they washed down with a flagon of ale that Nicol had brought with him from the village. Once Emilia was asleep on her little pallet with Beattie resting beside her, Nicol and Arran wrapped themselves in their cloaks and settled down to sleep beside the shouldering remains of the fire. With luck on their side, they would be riding away at dawn.

The sky was streaked with palest pink and mauve by the time they were all awake and prepared for their journey. Beattie passed around the last of the bannocks and oat cakes for them to break their fast.

Emilia was up and helping Beattie, passing their water flagons so they could quench their thirst.

She took the last of the little clay pots and drank what remained of the potion. Grimacing at the taste, she managed a smile.

“I am feeling well enough tae ride. I dinnae wish tae hold us back any longer. We must be off before Bairre Mackinnon has another opportunity fer evil-doing.”

Arran studied his mother. This morning she was more like he remembered her. Busy, watchful and calm. His heart sang. His mother would be well again and free. Soon he would be with Dahlia, ready to greet her brothers.

Before they departed, they dragged the two guards inside the bothy. Both men had been tied to a sturdy tree, with just enough spare rope tae allow them tae relieve themselves a matter of a few feet away. They growled at Arran as he and Nicol let them into the bothy. “Our master will slice out yer guts when he catches up with ye,” one of them said.

Arran laughed. “Methinks it will be yer guts he hollows out well before then.”

They left the two men beside the embers of the fire and made their exit.

“Ye need tae ride me horse, melady, he’s a good, wise steed, sure-footed and cam.” Nicol passed the reins of his gentle chestnut to Arran who assisted Emilia into the saddle.

Beattie was already mounted on her mare and within moments Arran had swung himself onto the back of his stallion.

Nicol gestured toward the better-looking of the two horses tethered nearby that had belonged to the guards. “I’ll ride this one.” He mounted, taking the reins of the second horse and wheeled around to face the path with both horses.

Without any further delay, the little party moved off down the track on their descent from the mountain. The going was much easier than their climb had been and, with fine weather on their side, they continued without mishap. Arran kept a close eye on his mother, with an ever-watchful Beattie close by, but she kept up with them, uncomplaining, although at times he noticed her wincing as if she was in pain.

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