They crossed into Scotland in the early morning, and it suddenly occurred to her how selfish she’d been in allowing Miles to accompany her. There were too many Scotsmen who were like old Harben, who’d love to kill any Englishman on sight. She suggested to Miles that since they had no guard, they might be safer if he were to dress as a Highlander. Miles looked at her in an odd way that she didn’t understand.
Later, as they traveled north, she began to understand. Miles would always be safe wherever there were women. Pretty girls stopped and offered them dippers of milk, and their eyes offered Miles much more. One woman, walking with her four-year-old daughter, stopped and spoke to them. The little girl ran and leaped into Miles’s arms. Miles seemed to see nothing unusual about this action. He merely swung the child onto his shoulders and they walked quite some distance together.
Near sundown they came to an old crofter’s cottage, and an ugly, old, toothless crone greeted them. She smiled delightedly at Miles and took his hand. She rubbed it warmly between her own, then held his palm up to the dying light.
“What do you see?” Miles asked gently.
“Angels,” she cackled. “Two angels. A beautiful angel and a cherub.”
Miles smiled sweetly, and the woman laughed harder. “They’re angels to others but they’re the devil’s own to ye.” A bright streak of lightning flashed in the sky. “Oh, aye, that’s what they are. They’re angels of rain and lightning to ye.” She laughed again and turned to Bronwyn. “Now let me see yer palm.”
Bronwyn backed away from her. “I’d rather not,” she said flatly.
The old woman shrugged and invited them to spend the night with her.
In the morning she grabbed Bronwyn’s palm and her face clouded. “Beware of a blond-haired man,” she warned.
Bronwyn snatched her hand away. “I’m afraid your warnings are too late,” she said, thinking of Stephen’s sun-kissed hair, and left the little house.
They rode all day and stopped that evening in the roofless shelter of a destroyed castle.
Miles was the one who realized it was Christmas Eve. They made a celebration of sorts, but Miles recognized Bronwyn’s sadness and left her to her own thoughts. It occurred to Bronwyn that part of Miles’s fascination lay in the way he seemed to understand what a woman was feeling. He didn’t demand anything of her as Stephen did or try to talk to her as Raine did. Miles quietly understood and left her alone. She had no doubt that if she wished to speak, Miles would make an excellent listener.
She smiled at him and took the oatcake he offered. “I’m afraid I’ve caused you to miss Christmas with your family.”
“You’re my family,” he said pointedly. He looked at the black sky over the ruined walls around them. “I just hope that for once it doesn’t rain.”
Bronwyn laughed. “You’re too used to your dry country.” She smiled in memory. “Stephen never seemed to mind the rain. He—” She broke off and looked away.
“I think Stephen would live underwater to be with you.”
She looked up, startled, and remembered the kitchen maid sprawled across her husband’s lap. She blinked several times to clear her vision. “I think I’ll go to sleep.”
Miles watched in amazement as she curled up in her thin plaid and immediately relaxed. He sighed and wrapped his fur-lined mantle closer about his body. He didn’t think he’d make a good Scot.
It was still morning when they reached the hill overlooking Larenston. Miles sat still in astonishment as he gaped at the fortress on the peninsula. Bronwyn spurred her horse forward, then leaped into a big man’s arms.
“Tam!” she cried, burying her face in the familiar neck.
Tam held her away. “Ye put new gray hair on my head,” he whispered. “How can someone so little get into so much trouble?” he asked, ignoring the fact that she was a bit taller than he. Indeed, she was small next to his great mass.
“Did ye know the MacGregor has asked to meet with ye? He sent a message about some drink and a saucy wench who’d laughed at him. Bronwyn, what have ye done?”
Bronwyn stared at him in astonishment for a moment. The MacGregor asked to meet with her! Perhaps now there would be a way to prove to Stephen she wasn’t so selfish.
She hugged Tam again. “There’s time to tell you all of it. I want to go home now. I’m afraid this trip has made me tired.”
“Tired?” Tam asked, alarmed. He’d
never heard her use the word before.
“Don’t look at me like I was daft,” she smiled. “It’s not easy carrying another person all the time.”
Tam understood instantly, and his face nearly split with his grin. “I knew that Englishman could do something right without any training. Where is he, anyway? And who is he?”
Bronwyn answered questions all the way across the narrow strip of land and up the trail to Larenston. Her men joined her and fired hundreds of questions at her. Miles stood back, staring in awe at the sight. Bronwyn’s servants and retainers acted more like an enormous family than the classes of society that they were. The men greeted Miles affectionately, talking constantly of Stephen this and Stephen that.
Bronwyn left the men and went upstairs to her room. Morag greeted her.