Page 11 of The Unexpected Laird

Sighing, Elspeth confirmed, “Aye. This journey will be hard, but I ken we will be able tae survive. I raised ye tae be capable in such situations.”

“Ye did,” Florence whispered. “Ye prepared me for disaster, and I always thought ye rather silly tae do so. As it turns out, ye were no’ silly…merely insightful.”

“Just experience,” Elspeth murmured. She knew better than most that good things tended to come to an end at some point. One needed to be prepared for when they did.

Raising her chin, Florence declared, “The McClarens did no’ kill us…the countryside willnae either.”

Elspeth felt a strong sense of pride rise up within her, but also an equally strong sense of regret. Her daughter should not have to experience such heartache at so young an age. She had hoped to protect Florence from just how cruel the world could be, but Elspeth realized too late how foolish an idea that was. The world had a way of showing off its cruelty no matter how hard they tried to avoid it.

As they continued down the road, leaving behind the life she had worked so hard to build and the only home Florence had ever known, Elspeth told herself that she would not let this be the thing that broke her. She would remain strong for Florence and would make sure they found their way south. Just as her daughter had said, they had survived the McClarens.

They would survive the journey back to her home, as well as whatever it was they found there.

CHAPTER FIVE

Florence

F

or the first few days of their journey, Florence felt as though she were moving through a fog. Everything around her seemed dull and gray, and she was numb on the inside. That was likely a blessing, however. She was fairly confident that if she could actually feel everything she was feeling, it would drive her mad.

Her mother attempted to lure her from her numbness, but when Florence resisted, she did not push the matter. Still, her mother would talk to her and tell her stories, even though Florence did not always respond. It did not seem to bother her mother, however. She would just continue to chat away, as though she and Florence were engaging in an in-depth conversation of which they were both equally part of. It was strange, as her mother had never been the talkative sort.

They avoided other people until they were well past the McIntewars’ territory. Those first nights they slept outside, hidden away under the cover of forest trees. They did not even dare let a fire burn late into the night, as her mother worried it would draw the attention of anyone who might be hunting them. Florence had not argued the point, not really caring one way or another if she was cold or if they were caught. If it were not for her mother, she likely would have simply sat in the middle of the road and given up all her will to go on. Not just with the journey, but with her life.

It was as though her mother were dragging her along to safety, forcing her forward by her own sheer force of will since Florence lacked any will of her own.

Once they crossed the border of the clan’s land, her mother declared that they would find an inn that evening for them to stay in.

“A hot meal and a bath will do ye wonders, sweetheart,” her mother told her when she spotted the sign for the upcoming inn. “It is important tae feel like a person again.”

Florence glanced toward her mother and shrugged. “If ye wish, I have nae objections.”

Her mother frowned at her, her concern clear. However, she did not say another word as they made their way down the well-worn dirt road. The inn came into sight not long after, just as the sun was beginning to set, and it was a small building on the side of the road. They brought their horses to a stop outside the front door. Sliding to the ground, they tethered the animals to the posts and made their way inside. Florence followed her mother and kept her head low, not wishing to encourage anyone to try and talk to her.

Inside, they found that the first floor of the building was a tavern, and several guests were sitting, drinking, and eating. No one paid them any mind as they crossed to the long counter where the innkeeper sat. He was a large, round man with a shining bald head and long red beard. He glanced up at the two approached and arched a brow, not appearing particularly friendly.

“Aye?” he grunted. “Whit are ye needing?”

“A room for the night,” her mother stated. “Food, and water for a bath.”

“Rooms are nae free,” the man replied.

Elspeth gave him a cool look before digging out the bag of coins the blacksmith had given them. She opened it and dropped a few on the counter in front of the innkeeper. He grabbed them and studied them a moment before nodding.

“Aye, we have a room for ye.” He reached under the counter and produced a key, handing it over to Elspeth. “Up the stairs and doon the hall on yer right. Second door. Water will be sent up promptly, as well as a hot meal.”

Tucking away the rest of the coins, her mother nodded. “Thank ye. Yer hospitality is appreciated.”

He grunted again and turned away from them. Florence saw her mother roll her eyes, but then she whirled around and marched toward the stairs.

They reached the room and her mother unlocked the door to a small but clean room, with a single bed just big enough for two, a wash stand, and a table and chair resting beneath a small window. Shuffling her way inside, Florence made her way over to the bed and sat down, releasing a long breath. Her mother shut the door and Florence could tell she was watching her, even though she did not lift her head.

“Florence, we need tae have a conversation,” her mother said in a gentle tone.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Florence shook her head. “Nay…nay, please. I dinnae want tae talk about anything.”

“Ye cannae continue this way,” her mother insisted. “Yer a shell o’ yerself. Ye need tae figure out someway tae continue wi’ yer life.”

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