Page 40 of The Guardian's Witch

Alex read the agony on the man’s face.

Gareth continued in a hushed voice. “She stayed with Laura and Jamie. She was badly battered and bruised. When she finally came home no one could get her to talk.”

Alex remembered how he had mourned Wesley’s death. It must have been torture for Lisbeth.

“She rallied when the first of the king’s protectors arrived, but when he started to sell off the wares, Lisbeth packed up everything and put it in storage.”

“Yes, Jamie told me.”

“She’s been remote ever since.”

“Thank you for your report.”

“Sir,” he saluted slowly. Gareth inclined his head and slipped in with the troop.

Anger shot through Alex. He could see how some of the king’s men would take advantage. Not everyone was principled. Alex advanced the column forward.

They emerged from the forest and trekked up the road. One by one the wagons and families peeled off. Most would stay with relatives. The few that remained quickly found accommodations. The livestock was herded to the pen. Alex, Robby and Gareth continued on to the castle.

Alex entered the foyer and stopped. His gaze darted around the room alighting on one thing, then another. The magnificence struck him. The stone walls glistened clean and fresh. The aroma of lavender and spice filled the air. He entered the Great Hall. Each wall was adorned with a large silk tapestry. Some depicted armies and others gardens. They were filled with color and warmth. The sideboard, dressed in linens, proudly displayed the silver plate. The hearth was clean, the fire warm and welcoming. He turned to Gareth.

“This is reminiscent of the castle when Lord and Lady Reynolds were in residence.”

Alex thought the man soaked up the atmosphere. Some of the twinkle was back in Gareth’s eyes. How wrong he had been to think of Glen Kirk only as old stones. Lisbeth’s touch was everywhere. Any man would be proud to be lord of this castle. Glen Kirk was worth defending, not for the king, but for Lisbeth. He had to tell her everything. He ran his hand through his hair. Where to begin? By telling her she was his wife.

Ann rushed through the hall with filled tankards for Alex and his captains.

“Have Lady Lisbeth join me in the Great Hall,” Alex instructed his page.

Peter ran off, coming back a few minutes later.

“M’lord, Lady Lisbeth isn’t on the grounds, and she’s not answering her door.”

“Ann.” He stopped the housekeeper. “Where’s Lady Lisbeth?”

“M’lord, she’s been working night and day to get things in order before your return. I noticed her on the steps. I think she’s resting in her room. I’ll go fetch her.”

“No, let her rest. The morning is soon enough.” He didn’t have the heart to disturb her. Tomorrow. He would talk with her tomorrow.

* * *

Lisbeth avoided Alex and his troop on the road. She knew the forest and stayed well out of sight. She spotted the smudge of smoke from the lodge chimney and relaxed. Laura was there and she was safe. She ran up the path, threw the door open, and stopped.

“Bryce. What are you doing here?”

Bryce stood at the hearth, his back to the door, a tankard of ale in his hand. He froze at the sound of her voice. The tankard was halfway to his mouth. He straightened with apparent difficulty and turned to face her. He fumbled the tankard and sent its contents splashing into the smoldering fire. The resulting aroma of the hissing mist was a combination of wood and rich ale. His eyes swept up her body from her hem to her hair.

Her eyes were fixed on the red stain spreading across his white linen shirt, then flashed to his face.

Turning set him off balance. His legs buckled and he fell sending blood splattering over the floor.

“Bryce.” She dropped what she was holding and ran to him. She tore his shirt open and searched the wound. There were telltale signs of bark and moss. He began to move. “Bryce,” she said softly. “What happened?”

“I was going back to Ravencroft. My horse stumbled. The beast threw me and I landed on a downed log. One of its broken branches jabbed me like a lance.” He winced in pain. “The lodge was close. I came here thinking I could find something for the wound. All I found was your father’s ale.”

“I’ll help you.” She got up and removed her cloak.

“No.”

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